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Thursday Nite

When I moved back to my hometown almost twenty years ago now, I fell in with a group of artists. They were primarily musicians and, in time, they became good friends. I began to shoot music.

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Each of them has taught me something, some have taught me a lot about what it means to create art. Mostly they taught me that you have to be willing to work your ass off whether or not anyone gives a damn. Which is most often the case.

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It’s mind boggling what some have managed to accomplish. Two started a music festival with little more than a vision, a dedication to hard work and a couple of credit cards. They ran it ten years, filled hotels, and brought in bands from all over the world.

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Some have gone onto play in bands which have met with great critical national acclaim, if not financial reward.

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Others write: fiction, non-fiction and more than a few are poets. Several publish their own poetry magazine. Several run their own small publishing company. Some teach and some belly dance.

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That we have collectively managed to survive our occasional acts of stupidity is a testament to either good fortune or proof that God does protect mad men drunks and fools.

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Sometimes life intervenes and we don’t get together often enough.

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Sometimes we do. And when we can get together, I never think about what we have or haven’t accomplished, I just think that I’m happy to be able to call these talented people friends. I think that I’m grateful for Thursday night.

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