The Spirit in Estes Park
I spent last week in Estes Park. It dawned on me several weeks ago that I could work from anywhere, and I felt the call of the mountains. I booked a bed at The Adventure Hostel. It was a test-run of this idea I have, to just travel all the time and work on my app from the road.
I work as a web developer and a street performer. In the mornings, I work on my software projects. My focus is an app called streetlight, more about that later. After a morning of looking at code, I feel a little bit like a crushed pepsi can. Playing guitar is how I uncrush. I ride the bus around town with my guitar on my back, stopping to play when I find a nice spot. My guitar puts a bit of color back into the world and the little interactions with passersby let me retune my heart.
When people ask me what I do, I say I am a street performer or a busker or a guitarist, but in my head I think of myself as a bard. What’s the difference? I will be honest, I think about being a bard while day dreaming and I’m not quite sure which parts are true. But I think of a bard as a summoner of spirits, they use music to call a certain spirit and invite it stay a while. Each person who connects with the music becomes a part of a network of hearts, like a spirit WiFi with an open connection to the moment.
Place and space are very important to a bard’s work. Some spirits wish very much to enter a place and they need only the slightest nod or smile or tip of the hat as an invitation. When the music is easy to hear and there are curious and open hearts nearby, the music just flows. Whenever I look up, I see people smiling, sometimes at me, sometimes at each other. I learn how to send a smile even when our eyes don’t meet, through the spirit WiFi. I know from experience that it is possible to go all day without a smile and… not on my watch.
In Estes Park, I find a beautiful place to play. It is right outside the patio of Mama Rose’s, an Italian restaurant. The walkway runs along the Big Thompson river behind me and hanging lights give a cheerful glow. I wish I had taken a picture, it is a beautiful evening and there are lots of people sitting on the patio across from me as I set up. I sit on a large concrete block and warm up, and a family across from me smiles and waves. When I finish my first song, a boy in an orange shirt claps. Although he is the only one clapping, he doesn’t stop. He gives me a thumbs up. He claps after every song.
On this night outside of Mama Rose’s patio, the spirit wears an orange shirt. I feel honored to have my part in the whole thing and I play my best.
It seemed like each group that left the restaurant stopped by to give support. Little kids ran around. I played each song I could remember and then played them again. A server from Mama Rose brought me some water and told me that I sound good and that he is a musician too. My tip jar is completely full and I am starting to lose steam, so I call it a night. The light breeze of mountain air feels great as walk back to the hostel, the light fading behind the mountains to the west.