Nothing makes me more keenly aware of how difficult my line of work can be than seeing friends of mine buying houses. There are always two sides to the search for a new castle. For part of me it’s as torturous as window-shopping, looking at all the wonderful things I may never be able to afford. For the rest it’s just wonderful seeing my friends moving forward in their lives.

Fortunately, at least for the foreseeable future, my room mates have plenty of space in their new castle for me to set up a studio again. In fact, this place is so big we all have our own sanctuaries. We don’t even have to see each other that much any more. Which makes me kind of sad.

I realized this last night as I ate dinner. They had come home from an appointment and promptly disappeared into the house. I work alone for the most part, so being crammed into a tiny space with the room mates wasn’t as bad a situation as I’d initially thought. When they came home, I got to see people again. Now that may no longer be the case.

That isolation reminds me that my discontent isn’t as important as the interaction I get with real people. The frustration I feel as I try to shove my career forward one inch at a time and keep my fans happy seem inconsequential at the prospect of just being alone. She’s a big house, but bigger isn’t always better.

As long as she’s still small enough to see other people from time to time, then I’m home.

(Oh yeah… and if you want to see photos/videos of the new place, I might provide something soon. Gotta wait until we’re all done unpacking first.)

In his post-140 Characters Conference wrap up for HuffPo, Neal gives a few examples of the speakers from the event… including little ole me! Here’s a clip:

Matthew believes that musicians should be using anyway available to speak to their fans. The real-time web is a space with open lines of communication with fans. Musicians should be on it.

“I’ve been able to actually find places to stay on tour,” Matthew recalls. “Well I’ve got a show tomorrow and no place to sleep can anybody help me? My fans will tweet it out and somebody will retweet and eventually somebody will come in; it’s an emergency broadcast system of the new millennium.”

Be sure to read the rest of the article here.

The last week has been a double-down Dagwood crazysandwich of Painting on top of packing on top of moving on top of cleaning, but I’m now moved into the new house and the new studio. I’ve got less than 2 weeks to release 2 new songs for my Matthew Ebel dot net subscribers and get prepped for the big gig at Anthrocon at the end of the month.

Photos and video of the new place will not happen until the boxes are gone and the painting is done. This ain’t my house, peeps, it’s my room mates’, so I’m not showing anything they wouldn’t show to house guests. Besides, like I said, I have no time for photos. I have music to make.

There’s coffee in the pot, internet in the house… it’s go time.

Well, in this house anyway. Today I start dismantling the studio (a.k.a. the pool) and moving everything to the new house. Sorry if you wanted to hear new material this week, but I’ll be busy pretending I actually work for a living. Hauling boxes, moving furniture, this is the life I dreamed of when I took my first piano lesson at age five. Or something.

So I’m standing in a Marriott in Mt. Laurel, New Jersey, in half a bird costume with a drink in one hand. Next to me is an enormous black guy in a suit that cost more than my tour van, he works for the hotel. He’s not escorting me out. He’s not even eyeballing me with that “stay here, spend money, and gtfo” look. In fact he’s reminding me why I love my job more than anything else in the world.

I just spent a weekend in the garden state with people who oftentimes are more comfortable in ears and a tail than in a shirt and tie. They treat me incredibly well, but I get the feeling it’s because I’m a performer. The nature of my work affords me a cushion of goodwill that I don’t think most people enjoy. That may be why normal folks are willing to open up to me in situations that would make most others uncomfortable. When people talk, I listen.
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