We’ve all ridden to the present in our own homemade jalopies bristling and clanking and whistling with every bit of where we’ve been, what we see, who we’ve met, what we’ve done, why and how we’ve done it . The road ain’t always pretty or easy to travel. Sometimes it’s full of potholes, sometimes it’s no road at all, just trackless wilderness. Pieces fall away and new ones get scabbed in their place. And sometimes, if we’re lucky and we’ve endured, we come out on the other side with something to give.
Like these guys.
If you think this just applies to artists, your road’s been a tunnel or you slapped blinders on yourself somewhere along the way. If we can climb out of our own cavernous holes long enough to look around and survey the landscape, we can find it everywhere we look. And we should.