Go.
Give.
Grit.
Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.
Go.
Give.
Grit.
Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.
….just how beautifully small the world is.
Chances are there is someone out there, close by, maybe across the table, hall, or street, that can help you get where you’re wanting to go with your music.
Shake hands.
Give some hugs.
Write thank you notes.
Check your ego at the door.
We call this ‘neighborin‘ where I’m from.
No matter your industry, passion, or art there’s probably something that gets most of the attention (the driver), but for those that see how things truly are they know it’s really about something else in the bag.
Every guy wearing a green jacket points the blame at his putter.
I’ve yet to experience a eulogy, acceptance speech, or award ceremony that mentioned Twitter.
Looks like this is becoming a tradition.
2013.
2012.
Keep calm. It’s Masters week.
Where the rubber hits the road.
Where the submit button sends your post.
Where the streets have a name and where the streets have no name.
Where the speech leaves the stage.
Where music hits the listeners ear.
Where hope is received.
Where an experienced is enjoyed and simultaneously joy is exchanged.
All…
…is…
…a by-product…
…of one’s romantic waltz in the trenches.
If you own a callus, it was not gifted to you, it was earned.
But you will call it a gift.
Purpose and Energy.
Persistence and Momentum.
Profitability and Frugality.
Preparation and Success.
People and People.