Throwback Tale of Gratitude


It’s 2010, I tell myself “You’re living the dream, how could you be so down?!”, and it’s true. In a beautiful small town of Italy, I wake up daily to stroll through cobbled streets, chat with locals, enjoy my fresh pastry with a marocchino, and then proceed to rehearse and make music with delightful colleagues. Weekly, we perform warmly received concerts somewhere within the breathtaking architecture of town. Seriously, the dream.

But I cannot shake this feeling of being so alone. It’s gotten so bad I can’t even enjoy this whimsical existence, let alone feel like a quality musician, which of course makes me feel all the more guilty. What is my problem?!


An altogether proactive person, I am determined to solve this issue: Sunrise jogs around the town’s borders, a perfectly picturesque omnimax experience of the horizon; practicing my repertoire harder, learning music faster and cleaner each day, conversing longer in Italian, tasting every new gelato flavor (avocado is amazing). Nothing works, but damnit, I’m going to enjoy this experience if it kills me.

Almost a month passes. I cannot believe how much I have accomplished: my Italian is finally different than my Spanish, my capacity to drink wine and eat gelato has grown admirably, I have watched every full length Michael Jackson music video projected nightly in town, and I have at least 5 performed works of repertoire freshly under my belt.

That’s how I feel.

My colleagues and I are concluding lunch with a daily trip to the gelateria, there’s happy chatter about this or that. I blurt out:

“Guys, I just realized it’s been three weeks since I got a hug.”

Um, yikes. Hello Awkward. As I blush from the suddenly unbearable heat, trying to reclaim my words out of the air, I can’t breathe.

Not a panic attack, my airflow was indeed constricted. But it’s because of the crushing bear hug that so rapidly enveloped me, snapping me out of this crazy funk and affirming all this work to make the dream. Someone heard me. Who knew. A hug.


Fast forward: 2017

Bow & Hammer is our dream now.

Consistently presenting shows that are that click for people in just the way they need. Collaborating with other artists and businesses as collective humans to provide more affirmations than exclusions between us.

But amongst the rush and hulaballoo of providing others with this human affirmation, we can often feel like I did in 2010, needing a hug ourselves. As a small organization, it’s almost embarrassing to admit how much each dollar counts. We put on a good face, truly love this dream, and work to the bone to make it happen, but we can’t do it alone.


Your financial support would be the biggest hug to us right now. Whether through Patreon, a one-time donation, buying a million tickets, telling all your friends to do the same, it all means we might actually make this dream last for a while. And hopefully all of us can benefit from that.

Living the arts career can feel like such a saga, every trek worthwhile for the dream. Thanks for your consideration to support us in this time critical to our growth and survival.

Much Love,


PS. Thank you to Elizabeth for that hug in 2010, and all the hugs since. I don’t know where I’d be without them.