As Yet Unseen

I spent most of yesterday considering and re-considering my decision to try out for the subway again.

Upon reflection, I realized that I have received so much from the experience already, I could legitimately decide to step aside and let the project be a one-year-only event. As such, the subway year would have a neat, sewn-up quality to it. I would, perhaps, be able to see it as a distinct happening, one chapter in my ongoing story. It would be a chapter that ended when I wanted it to.

As I spoke to friends and family about this possibility, we all realized that my fear of not being re-accepted was a very real concern. If I wasn't chosen again, would that call the whole enterprise into question? Would it undermine my confidence in other areas of my musical life? At one point, I decided that the risk wasn't worth it and that I should call the audition off.

Meanwhile, outside, a storm raged. A tornado warning went into effect, as strong winds gusted from every direction, and pressure built up in black clouds overhead.

This morning, the skies are still cloudy, and my outlook still mixed. But at some point between yesterday night and this morning, one thing did become clear.

My experience as a subway busker has always been about risk.

I have never known, when I start to sing, what the people coming up the stairs will think: whether they will think my music is beautiful, or boring, or essential, or superfluous, or if they will even hear it at all. I've had no control over their responses. Even when I've thought, "ahah, there's a family approaching, I should sing 'Teach Your Children'..." and I've tried to do that (with mixed success) usually they haven't even noticed.

It has been the times that I've sung directly from the heart, from--and to--a place of more universal communication that transcends individuality and even time, that miracles have occurred.

The right music has in fact found the right ears.

Over and over again, despite my frequent doubts and fears, I have experienced those miracles. Singing to an as-yet-unseen audience is a risk, and somehow, it has been no gamble at all.