Standing here, in this quiet house where I can hear the birds chirping out back, I think I’m kind of getting the concept of closure. It’s no big dramatic before-after. It’s more like that melancholy feeling you get at the end of a really good vacation. Something special is ending, and you’re sad, but you can’t be that sad because, hey, it was good while it lasted, and there’ll be other vacations, other good times.

Concert' doesn’t mean standing up like a target in front of thousands of strangers. It means coming together. It means harmony.

Traveling is not something you are good at. It is something you do. Like breathing.

I've become to realize there's a world of difference between knowing something happened, even knowing why it happened, and believing it.

And something tells me if it matters, maybe it shouldn't be easy.

Because for that day, I really did become Lulu. Maybe not from the film or the real Louise Brooks, but my own idea of what Lulu represented. Freedom. Daring. Adventure. Saying yes.

He showed me how to get lost, and then I showed myself how to get found.