Final day of the retreat! Returned to Wildcat Lake with my morning coffee.

Spied a Great Blue Heron and a little boy, both fishing. Daddy Bill would love this spot.

Today’s meal: pupusas con curtido and a spinach-blueberry-banana smoothie. 

Showered up and decamped to Poulsbo, to rendezvous with Jenny Davis and the band for our evening gig on Bainbridge Island.

Gratified to have spent the week up here, ruminating and rejuvenating.

Now returning home to Sass, the pups, and my own bed!

Life is good.

Got my morning joe from the roadside diner before decamping to Green Mountain and the Wildcat Trail.

Found a secluded spot lakeside to work on my arrangement of “Shelter” by Jay Thomas.

Shared the trail and spectacular views of the valley with a few ambitious kids on mountain bikes. 

Today’s meal: a mighty satisfying, spicy bowl of seafood pho with Vietnamese lettuce wraps and beer. 

Made camp among the evergreens in the secluded equestrian community of Bridal Trail. 

Grateful for the Icy Breeze, a tour bus air conditioner, white noise maker, and cooler, all in one (not a paid endorsement).

Tomorrow is the final day of this adventure. It’s been grand!

Woke up with the sun, grabbed an espresso from the bikini baristas, and hit the road for Seabeck, a mill town on Hood Canal.

Followed a beautifully maintained walking trail to a small waterfall. Not another human soul in sight.

Sketched an idea for vibraphone and double bass. Not what I’d planned, but could be something.

Today’s meal: steamed mussels with salad, bread, and wine. Almost as good as Bartje's!

Tonight’s lullaby: Clifford Brown with Strings.

Goodnight, Blue Moon.

Summer showers again last night as I slumbered, cozy and warm, under the covers. #vanlife

Woke up to the welcome aroma of freshly brewed coffee, then explored the forested hills around my campsite.

Nature walks really aren’t the same without the company of my canine companion (Scout stayed home this time), but at least I have the voice of Daddy Bill in my mind’s ear, narrating, identifying all the birds and plants! 

Played some long tones over the water at sunset. It’s good to get away and recharge. 

The writing plan, however, has been a bust so far — more “posing” than “composing,” sadly. 

Nothing but false starts, insincere, derivative melodies, and ostensibly original ideas that lead nowhere. 

Oh, well. Not giving up. Fail better tomorrow!

Today’s meal: mango salad with prawns and peanuts and a sensational rainbow roll. 

Tonight’s entertainment: a download of Blade Runner, an enduring favorite.

Even fired up the propane heater for a little extra warmth and atmosphere. 

I do love a rainy night.

Fell asleep to the comforting sound of gentle rain on the roof of the van. Pure bliss!

Enjoyed the morning java en route to a new encampment: the Stillaguamish River in Snohomish County. The wisdom of Matt Foley notwithstanding, I believe I’ll stay here awhile. This is living!

Walked around Lake Goodwin under stormy skies to work up an appetite, then visited the town of Stanwood to absolutely inhale a wood-fired pizza. So good.

Wrote no music at all today. Just listened to the rain. 

Read my book. Napped a lot.

My kind of day.

Woke up to smoky skies courtesy of the Canadian wildfires. 

Grabbed a coffee for the ferry and said goodbye, for now, to Whidbey Island.

Arrived on the peninsula just as a sudden cloudburst washed away the haze. Glorious!

Today’s meal, a frugal flugel favorite: teriyaki bento with sushi, sashimi, tempura, gyoza, and rice. Oishi!

Admired the sunflowers in Blueberry Park, then headed over to the pub gig with saxophonist Chris Bickley and his terrific band: Osama Afifi, Mark Ivester, and Brian Monroney, whose collection of guitar effects pedals delighted me.

After the show, in the mobile man cave, I finally listened to the SRJO recordings from our collaboration a few weeks ago. 

Forever grateful.

Started the day with a hot cup of local java and a long walk along the Langley seawall.

Found a lovely practice spot, serenaded the critters, and did a bit of writing.

Today’s meal: a delicious chicken bánh mì, loaded with pickled veggies, on a crusty french baguette. 

Returned to basecamp among the towering trees. No campfire allowed (burn ban) but I found a pleasant way to take the edge off the evening chill.

Life is good!

Getting away for a few days of writing, walking, and relaxing, as I van-camp around Puget Sound.

Visited the Seattle music studio of Bill Anschell for a little coffee and conversation, then continued north to Whidbey Island for a performance with guitarist John Stowell. So grateful to have these two wise mentors and good friends in my life.

Strolled around the scenic island town of Langley, where bunnies frolic among the whale skulls, then dined on rockfish, mixed greens, pinot noir, and cherry pie, overlooking the Saratoga Passage.

It was a good day.

Be a man. Cowboy up! Don’t whine. Don’t complain. Just do what needs to be done.

Accomplish more with less effort. Use the tools of habit and ritual. Be resourceful.

Book extended tours: midwest (2023), western states (2024), east coast (2025).

Recommit to meal planning, black coffee, portion control, and nature walks.

Use fewer words. Say precisely what you mean and then stop talking.

Update duo, quintet, and big band repertoire. Prepare new sets.

Make time for long, meandering conversations with friends.

Maintain tourbus in excellent condition. Service regularly.

Update home security and emergency response plans.

Boost income from workshops by raising fees 20%.

Seek a mentor, a drinking buddy, and a side hustle.

Make the composition retreat an annual event.

Schedule a full week of rest in every season.

Stay humble. Stay hopeful. Stay grateful.

Take Sassy on a birthday vacation.

Selectively apply for grants.

Reduce debt by 10%.

Listen to the rain.

Learn to bowl.

Prepare.

Adapt.

This has been one for the history books!

It may take a little time before we return to pre-pandemic levels of activity. Several of our favorite venues, both at home and on the road, were sadly shuttered during the shutdown. For those that remain, the struggle is real. 

But thanks to YOU -- the clients, customers, friends and fans who sustain us -- little-by-little we’re getting back to business.

In 2022, the YEAR OF CASCADIA, we: 

traveled 33K miles
charted 11K spins and streams
 added 4K followers and subscribers  
played 132 concerts
directed 41 workshops 
produced 9 album release celebrations
 accompanied 8 talented vocalists 
headlined 7 music and arts festivals
published 6 original compositions 
planted 5 douglas firs
 recorded 4 podcasts 
arranged 3 large ensemble charts
completed 2 artist residencies
enjoyed 1 epic year 

Thank you for being part of it.

Here’s to 2023!

Cheers, 

~Dmitri

Words fail to express how much we appreciate your generous support over the past year — the Year of CASCADIA — and the warm reception this project continues to receive from radio, retail, music journalists, and most of all, from friends like you. 

In the four months since its release, CASCADIA has been covered by dozens of online and print media publications internationally, garnering positive reviews from CD HotList, LA Jazz Scene, Earshot Jazz, Something Else, Jazz Views, Jazz Weekly, Midwest Record, and more.  

The album received 4-Stars from All About Jazz, spent over three months on the JazzWeek Top 100, is playing on radio stations all around the world, and was recently among the Origin Records releases submitted for Grammy Awards consideration. 

We’re grateful for all your lovely messages and social media comments about the album, too. But nothing compares to the thrill of performing live for folks who already know the songs because they’ve been listening to CASCADIA at home! 

Music brings us together and lifts our spirits. 

Thank you for lifting ours. 

We appreciate you! 

Dmitri

117 miles from home, one of my "new" tires came completely apart on The Lonesome Road!

I could see the circular tire tread rolling along the freeway in my rear view mirror, as Ella hobbled over to the side of the road. Fortunately my spare was in good repair and I made it home safely.

Having all the tires checked today, just in case.

#VanLife

Finished the tour in Ashland, only a 375-mile drive from home, and the rain began to fall, as if on cue, just as I crossed into Oregon. 

The Old Siskiyou Barn is neither old nor a barn. It’s a hidden jewel of a recital hall, tucked into the canopied woods in the hills just south of Ashland. It boasts exemplary acoustics, a terrific piano, the earthy fragrance of ancient wood, and a metal roof that sings when it rains. It’s perfect. 

Darrell and I first performed here back when Starlight Cafe was released in 1998, and we’ve been fortunate to return many times over the years with our duo. 

This weekend we played a few favorites from the old repertoire, some new selections from our current recordings, and a brand new piece dedicated to the beautiful souls who created this place. Our friend Ed, concert producer and guitarist, joined us for a couple of songs including the premiere.

It occurs to me that I’ve worked this same circuit, up and down the left coast, for decades now, yet this trip felt different. Emotions are heightened. Everything carries a patina of significance. 

For one thing, audiences are just so delighted to finally be out of isolation, enthusiastic about returning to live events, and eager to connect with the performers. The pandemic is far from over, however, so that enthusiasm is tempered with an awkwardness about intimacy and proximity. Every post-concert meet-and-greet now has this oddly nervous “first date” energy. 

Also, there is a weird apocalyptic undertone to everything now. The steady drumbeat of negative news over the climate crisis, wildfires, disease, war, economic hardship, political extremism and more, is creating an atmosphere of fear that these may be the end times. I exaggerate, but only a little. If you listen carefully, you’ll hear doomsday language sprinkled into even the most mundane of verbal exchanges. People don’t feel safe anymore, all situations seem tenuous, so we’d better get serious and make sure whatever we’re doing matters. Admit it, you feel it too. 

But what really made this trip emotionally rewarding was all the reconnections with important people from my past.

Someone once said “the best mirror is an old friend.” Many of us have reached an age at which we’re reassessing the past and rethinking our place in the world. Some of us are even starting to question long held beliefs. There's nothing like a conversation with an old friend to help you find your way.

I really needed these reunions. It felt to me, on this tour, as if we were drawn together magnetically. Our conversations felt somehow predestined, or guided by the divine, if such a force exists. 
 

My heart is full.

Traveled 300 miles today from Arden-Arcade to Ashland. 

California, I miss you already, but I’ll be back again in the spring. Try not to burn up or fall into the ocean before then, m’kay? 

Paused for the cause in the resilient town of Weed. Happy to report that both the Mill and Mountain wildfires have been contained, power is restored, and our friends at the Hi-Lo are back in business, serving up the very best pie a la road! 
 

Crossing into Oregon I swear I could feel the seasons change from summer to fall! 

Found a sweet parking spot (#MattFoleyForever) and spent some time with Darrell Grant’s tunes in preparation for tomorrow’s show in Ashland. 

Nice work if you can get it.

Traveled 225 miles from Santa Cruz to Seaside to Sacramento. 

Deja Blue, the Monterey jazz + soulfood venue where my friend Leon Joyce (“The People’s Choice”) leads the house band, is my kind of place!

Convivial atmosphere, lots of laughter with friends old and new (you're a jewel, Barbara), and I’m not sure which was tastier, the music or the catfish! 

The RV park by the Steinbeck House in Salinas didn’t work out, so I traveled north and spent the night in Gilroy, California. 

If you haven’t been to Gilroy, you’re missing out. The very air you breathe carries the mouthwatering scent of the little farm town’s most famous crop! 

How could I resist? Before skipping town I hit one of the roadside tourist traps and tried a little garlic ice cream. 

It was delightful! But it would be even better with bacon. Don’t judge. 

Now back in Sac looking for fresh vegetables.

Said goodbye to Sunset Beach this morning and headed down to Monterey. 

Listening to NPR on the drive, I heard the news that Ramsey Lewis has died. 

It seems like we lose another hero every few days, but this one hits hard. 

30 years ago in May of ’84, Ramsey Lewis came to Interlochen Arts Academy for a performance with our studio orchestra. I was a senior in high school and he was the first “big name” jazz musician I’d ever met. 

He made a huge impression. I was blown away by his infectiously joyful performance and his extreme generosity toward me and the other student soloists.

It couldn’t have been very rewarding for him, sharing the stage with a bunch of teenage amateurs, but I can still see his thousand-watt smile, still hear his howls of approval, as we launched into “The ’In’ Crowd” and “Hang On Sloopy” — big Ramsey Lewis hits from the year we were all born! 

After the concert Mr. Lewis took the time to speak with each of us individually, encouraging us to pursue our dreams. Yes, he did. And we did. 

After that I began checking out his discography in the listening library, beginning with Upendo Ni Pamoja, the album recommended by my classmate Frayne Lewis, Ramsey’s son.

Later I discovered Mr. Lewis' collaborations with Maurice White and members of Earth, Wind & Fire, one of my all time favorite bands, and I was hooked. 

I suppose it’s no coincidence that tonight it will be my privilege to work with Leon Joyce, Jr., a longtime member of the Ramsey Lewis Trio.

Or that this weekend in Ashland, Oregon, Darrell Grant and I will play Mr. Lewis’ theme song, the spiritual “Wade In The Water” — a staple of our repertoire for 25 years.

Ramsey Lewis was far more than a Grammy-winning, chart-topping jazz and pop star. He was a true Gentleman of Jazz, the kind of Great Man that Kipling wrote about, who walked with kings but never lost the common touch. 

Mr. Lewis proved you can be both a serious artist and a crowd-pleasing entertainer. His worldwide reach and influence as a performer, educator, broadcaster, and recording artist, is profound, deep and lasting. 

He was called, he served, he counted. 

His legacy is secure.

Put another 481 on the odometer criss-crossing San Francisco, Alameda, San Mateo, and Marin counties, giving school workshops and private lessons, and visiting friends whenever possible. 

Last week was a little too busy for my taste, but I only have one commitment each day for the rest of the tour, and that’s how I like it. Travel, make some music, enjoy a meal, take a walk, then hunker down with a good book, movie, or podcast. Is this what they call “quiet quitting?” 

The historic heat wave finally seems to be dissipating, thank goodness. Ocean breezes, morning fog, and cool mists are providing welcome relief from the summer sun. Now this is the Bay Area I remember! 

Since my next performance is down in Monterey, I decided to make camp in the seaside community of Santa Cruz. I have some history with this colorful little town, a favorite destination since my first Kuumbwa date back in 1989. 

You’d think I’d grow weary after all this driving, but cruising the Pacific Coast Highway is always rejuvenating and revivifying. This scenic coastline, with the dramatic sea cliffs on one side and the serene blue ocean on the other, never fails to feed my soul. 
 

The fish tacos at the Santa Cruz beach boardwalk are exceptional, and my campsite is so beautiful I feel like I’m getting away with something! 

I spent three glorious nights at Sunset State Beach, a peaceful hideaway under the pines overlooking Monterey Bay, on the very same playa privada as $ea$cape Resort next door. 

I watched the sun go down, took a luxuriously hot shower, then curled up in my comfy bed, falling asleep to the gentle rumble of ocean waves. 

I’ll bring Scout next time. 

She will love it here.

Logged 147 miles this weekend traveling back and forth from my base camp, a bucolic farm in Fairfield, to the bustling cities of San Francisco and Oakland.
 

Friday's venue was Bird & Beckett, a cozy Glen Park (SF) indie bookstore that hosts live jazz every weekend. Eric, the owner, is so hip that he named his shop for Samuel Beckett and Charlie Parker! 

Saturday was the Sound Room Oakland, my favorite music venue in Northern California (and I've played them all). Proprietors Karen and Robert just do everything right, and the sound engineer Carey is top notch.
 

Although the band had no opportunity to rehearse, everyone did their homework, listened to the album, prepared their individual parts, and showed up ready to play. We had a ball! Both performances went spectacularly, quite gratifying when performing for the hometown crowd.

Our drummer Deszon played especially well, later commenting that perhaps it's so easy for us to connect because we’ve known each other half our lives, playing together in different configurations for over 30 years! 

Between gigs I had a little free time in San Francisco, so I took a stroll down memory lane (aka Clement Street) and visited a few of my old haunts from back in the nineties.

Surprisingly little has changed! 

It’s comforting to know you can still pair a steamed pork bun from Wing Lee with a latte from Blue Danube, grab a slice from Georgio’s, or lose yourself in the stacks at Green Apple books. 

And it’s reassuring that the battalion of dusty Ultraman action figures still stands sentry, presiding over the Toy Boat gelato counter, silently awaiting your next visit.
 

Traveled 424 miles for jazz workshops at high schools and colleges in and around Sacramento, Silicon Valley, the Wine Country, and the East Bay. 

You never know what challenges or opportunities may arise on the road. I always try to have flexible plans that can adapt as circumstances change. I’m determined to enjoy every moment of this tour in spite of the historic heat wave. 

I love it here. I lived in the Bay Area for twenty years (1989-2009) so this trip feels like a homecoming.

Between gigs I’m reconnecting with old friends and my heart is full. 

Big thanks to Ann & Lalo, Mary & Peter, Julie, Tom, Ian, and Harvest Hosts for the hospitality!

Traveled 296 miles today from Ashland to Sacramento. 

The drive down was relatively uneventful. Saw smoky skies and plenty of fire devastation in and around the town of Weed. 

My beloved Hi-Lo Cafe was closed (sigh, no pie) and the entire downtown area is still without power, but the hot shots seem to be making progress. The Siskiyou Wildfire is now 40% contained. 

Out of the fire, into the frying pan! Northern California is experiencing record high temperatures this week. So grateful to have air conditioning 24/7 in the mobile man cave. Thank you IcyBreeze! 

Tonight’s encampment: a Harvest Host in Arden-Arcade! #AlliterationNation 

Traveled 448 miles today from Centralia, Washington to Ashland, Oregon. 

Easy breezy. Open road, sunny skies, no wildfires. 

And have I mentioned how much I love my little 12-volt coffee maker? 

There’s something deeply satisfying about brewing a fresh cup of hot coffee inside the van, whenever you want one, without having to pull over or reach for your wallet. 

Stopped in Ashland this afternoon for a short visit/rehearsal with my dear friend, guitarist Ed Dunsavage. I’ve known Brother Ed and his supercool wife Jen for 25 years, and they remain two of my favorite people anywhere. 

Now settling in for the night at a riverside spot just north of the California border.

Should’ve brought my fishing pole!

Packing up the tour bus for two weeks in Northern California!

It’s thrilling to return to road life, dodging fires, floods, and viruses to share our music with the people.

Seriously, some of these AP photos along I-5 look like something straight out of a Mad Max movie, so we’re mapping a couple of alternate routes south just in case. 

Today I'm grateful for the wise Minnie Pearl, who said it best:

“Take the back roads instead of the highways.”