29. Running On Fumes / by Allie Farris

A few things:

It's 11:40pm on a Saturday.

I just got home, following my first show at all since Tartufo closed, and my first set of all original songs in over two years.

I am so, so immeasurably happy.


     Sharon and I drove together, and as I got home she came up with me and transferred the videos she took of my 30 minute set onto my computer, where I will hopefully figure out how to put them online. I'm watching them now, still so pumped full of adrenaline that my fingers are tingling as I write this; I'm proud. I can say definitively, after 15 years of doing this, I think I've gotten better since I started. It's been so incremental, year after year and show after show, but tonight I felt the stirrings of a new feeling deep within me: I think I actually have a clue of what I'm doing now.  

It took me this long to say it, but at least I've said it. If I keep going from here, I could really get somewhere. The important thing is finding what I did right tonight, using the videos my best friend took on her phone, and keep doing those things to the nth degree. Maybe then I'll find my p-p-p-poker face. Just maybe. 

The last important point I will make in this lightning bolt of a celebratory blog post before hitting my sheets HARD and rising early again on a Sunday morning for two piano tunings is this: I forgot how much I loved it. It had been too long; I had learned too many things, too many ways of connecting with people over my days at Tartufo not to remember vividly how fulfilling playing my songs in front of a listening audience can be. But I had. And tonight, thanks to forty or fifty kind, quiet people, I rediscovered my version of skydiving; my version of bungee or base jumping. I remembered why charmers tame snakes and why stunt jumpers fly their motorcycles over lined-up monster trucks. This is the breathless wonder that fulfills me, that keeps me from wondering, what if? If I remember this, I'll never have to wonder again.