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We rolled back into town today after playing a strange show in Chicago with some awesome psychedelic bands.  Definitely felt out of place.  City folk have a way of making me feel overly earnest and naive, especially in Chicago.  The venue was built in an old warehouse covered in graffeti and some living space/ show space/ gallery space/ skate park/ garage sort of built into this old warehouse.  No one there seemed confident in what it used to be a warehouse for, they’ve just been hard at work making a beautiful space hidden behind dank nicked up bricks.

I’m feeling kind of bummed to be back home.  It’s hard leaving a surreal life style where I eat pizza literally everyday.  I show up in every city as a stranger with no history.  People crowd around and give me attention for something I genuinely enjoy doing.  Strange things happening at any given moment in everchanging landscapes.  Home can’t compare to that.  There’s no adventure back home.  I think I just needed more to get it out of my system.  I suppose I better get to work setting up another tour and better start running off my pizza belly.

-jr