I’ve happily become a pro at standing side stage. Whether it’s Red Rocks, a symphony center, a small listening room, or a stadium, I never grow bored of the beauty in that sacred space. I see a form of love that the audience has no perspective of, a glimpse of an under-observed community where service and vision are paramount. 

On the front side of the curtain is a curated and rehearsed offering to an unknowing crowd. Yet behind the curtain are the crew, family, lovers, teachers, mentors, guides – whether there physically, or simply there in spirit, all these characters have gathered their sources to pour into the front of the stage.

The contrasts between his world and mine

I’ve stood on loads of stages as an artist, but standing side stage as a partner to an artist is far more complex. In the early years of adjusting to my partner’s touring, I had countless ‘BUT WHAT ABOUT ME!!’ moments. If you’re living this life too, you’ve probably had plenty of your own. 

Our partners are away living a life that allows them space for creativity whenever it strikes, provides pleasant moments like a catered dinner eaten without interruption from a kid, an entourage providing on-demand needs, and adoring fans, poised at every turn.

Although I had already been a touring artist which allowed me the comprehension of road life, I wasn’t prepared for the irritation that emerged when I turned my focus to being a home partner and a mom. Those unmistakable contrasts in our worlds while apart became an almost-comical predictability. Without fail, I would be approaching a particularly annoying challenge as he was being wined and dined by the local contact in a quaint Italian village.

Collecting the tales of woe…

The time our toddler daughter was coming down with a stomach bug, complete with the all-night pukes while he was on tour in Scotland, spending two off nights at Aldourie Castle, the only habitable castle on the shores of Loch Ness.

I think a private chef was also included, but I was too busy scrambling to Walgreen’s for Pedialyte that I didn’t log those details.

Also, the time he was diving in the Great Barrier Reef off a well-stocked catamaran while I drove our SUV over an unmarked barrier in a parking lot where I was dropping off clothing for a video shoot. (And…. that meant finding someone to keep the kids for me to drop the car at the mechanic’s, find a ride back because it was pre-Ubër days, and then get a rental until it was fixed. Nothing simple, ever.) 

I have more stories, but I know you have a few also. You get it.

The dichotomy between the touring life of the artist and the home life of the partner is marked by a chasm.

On normal days it might simply feel like sluggish connection. Hard days can be anger and resentment, hiding their text alerts, crumbling internally from the loneliness. 

All our work feels invisible, the recipients at home (our kids, our community, our jobs) are clueless as to the level of the task, and the work in its entirety seems unglorious, well certainly unglamorous at the least. 

How the artist guardian concept was born

During a particularly intense time of disconnection between my world and my partner’s,  I knew I had to shift my perspective. It wasn’t a captivating morning-on-my-patio-with-my-coffee epiphany. Instead, it was a shattered “I won’t survive in this if I don’t change course now” moment.

I saw his trials and noted the sameness in our worlds. Flat tires, travel delays, sickness. Loneliness, a body that needs love and a good hug. Difficult people devoid of boundaries, characters who are unable to collaborate for the same goal, people who selfishly grab and don’t see the sacred human inside. 

We were both doing the same good work, fighting for the same things, and I saw it clearly when I looked at the heart of the actions and less at the components of the work. That vision of the larger image allowed me to see my more expansive role as a guardian.

You as a vision-holder

When your partner loses sight of their mission, who do they explore those fears with? Who provides a safe space in the wee hours when crippling doubt rises? When it’s you, notice how you step in to defend. Be aware of your ability to advocate for the music, the shaping of their craft, the importance of their platform. If instead, you’re fixated on the differences in your lives lived apart, you chance losing access to your relevance. Don’t pass off a powerful opportunity!

You are woven into their art.

xo, Sarah

photo: Weston and Maddie Holmes, side stage at Red Rocks watching their dad perform with Bruce Hornsby and the Noisemakers