"Wow you're getting stripped in many ways on this tour," Dawn said. I had just learned that the bag with all my clothes was not found at the hotel in Madrid. "How does it feel not to carry around a big bag," she asked.

My back answered first, followed by my brain, and both were in total agreement.

"It feels great," I said.

On the way to Castellon I had spent some of my perdiem on toothbrushes and deodorant. This was when I knew I had no toiletries (left 'em in Birmingham), but had not yet learned that my bag was not in the van. Now the toothbrushes (a 2 brush value pack!) and the deodorant were all I had.

"That's kind of all you need," said Dawn. She knows a thing or two about living out of bags. Her blue ASCAP shoulder bag has been her most reliable band member, making more tours and carrying more stuff than anybody. In the early days, Dawn's blue bag would house her guitar pedals, her toothbrush, and all of her clothes.

There's a book by Maya Angelou that we used to keep in our bathroom called "Wouldn't Take Nothing For My Journey Now." I love that title and thought of it on my last night in Bushwick when Traci and I were packing my bag. It had been years since I packed so specific and thoroughly, meditating on the need, mood, and weight of each piece of clothing. I was excited for every stitch. I have not been sad to see them go. Whoever possesses them next will enjoy themselves.

Besides, before we left Barcelona, our new friend Maria brought by some old shirts for me that belonged to her roommate. One of them (seen in the above picture along with Dawn's blue bag) says "Granada" and has a drawing of the Alhambra. That it is a little small in no way diminishes the warm reminder that I am, at all times, provided for.