There I am at the beginning, or pretty close to it at the least. In June of 2011 I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know how humans would react to me. I didn't know if I could completely control my Hunger, and I didn't know if I could make enough money on the street to pay the bills. But I was outside, enjoying the warm summer days, and fiddling tunes for anyone who would listen.
Four and a half years later, I still don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if I can keep this up indefinitely, or if outside pressures will collapse upon me and blanket me with too much doubt to shake off. I don't know if I'll ever be financially successful, by American standards. I don't know if I'll have big opportunities somewhere down the road, and I don't know if people will continue to watch and listen to my simple songs. But I do know I have the determination to give it my best shot.
For the past four winters, I've traveled south to continue to perform where the climate is warm enough for steady foot traffic. It's difficult to travel so much. Cherished relationships seem to change drastically when there are months in between. New ones sometimes aren't given enough time to blossom. But I've embarked on this journey, and I haven't yet reached my final destination.
I'm trying to hang onto what's important in life. To remember what it's like to be human. To believe that ten tender smiles are worth more than ten hundred dollar bills. But it's just so difficult sometimes.