It’s just about the best feeling in the whole world. Being up on a stage, singing back out at folks who know and love what you’re feeling. Banging away at whatever you play, singing alongside other musicians who love what you’re playing and singing. Carry it through to a really long set. Sweating and crying inside because you really don’t want it to end; but, it’s OK when it does because it’s supposed to end at the end.
As a child, I studied classical piano for a decade. Then, moved to one side into jazz on a trombone. Left music for the Movement. Then, found myself in demonstrations where brothers and sisters sang together and the music feeling came back to my heart. Went for strings that next time, played big old honking 12-string guitar. And sang and sang. Did that for next to seventeen years.
Then, it got to where I had to decide if I wanted to try those next few steps up to fulltiming it. And I didn’t. So, I stopped.
Still remember what it felt like. The best part. Just singing up a storm.