The convict, the Senator, and the blues musician; A Day in Mississippi

Traveling outside your comfort zone

When I tell people in Los Angeles that my daughter and her husband live in Mississippi, I get the face. You know, the face, that look of disbelief, disapproval, or even character profiling.

My daughter was born in New York City, spent her school years in and around Beverly Hills, and attended high school in Dallas. Ole Miss was a natural choice; she fell in love with the state and a boy. They married at the Mississippi Museum of Art and have built a nice life.

I've enjoyed traveling to Mississippi and exploring much of the state for some time. It's beautiful, the food is fantastic, and I love its history, especially the history of music. I'm always discovering something that shifts my perspective.

My plane landed in Jackson, Mississippi, to visit my daughter. She has a cool job at the state capitol, and her husband is an attorney in a nearby county. Yesterday felt like Take Your Father/Father-in-Law to Work Day—I spent time with them and had an action-packed, almost red-carpet experience.

The convict, the Senator, and the blues musician; one day in Mississippi.

In the morning, I went to the courthouse and watched my son-in-law at work. There, I experienced the legal system in action—people who had broken the law were presented with options to improve or resolve their situations. We all have different backgrounds and experiences, but sometimes, you just have to wonder: How did you get into this? What were you thinking?

Next, we had lunch at a popular spot for networking government officials, where I met a Mississippi senator and the Secretary of State. But the real highlight was the blackened grouper with grits and a glass of Sancerre.

After watching members of the House vote on a long list of policies, we left the Capitol to pick up tri-tip and wine for dinner. On the road, I mentioned I'd never been to a juke joint, so we stopped at the Blue Front Café in Betonia, which has been open since 1948. It’s a humble place, to say the least. In the corner, by a giant heater blasting heat on a warm day and smoking a cigarette, sat Jimmy 'Duck' Holmes, a celebrated blues musician and owner of Mississippi’s last juke joint. A juke joint is a blues bar, often found in the rural South, where people gather for blues music, dancing, and socializing. According to Jimmy, there used to be a lot of drinking, fighting, and gambling.

I've been an amateur blues guitarist for years, struggling to improve despite the wealth of online resources. But, quite unexpectedly, I got a guitar lesson in the middle of the bar. Serendipitously, Jimmy provided precisely the kind of instruction that I needed.

I have a few days left here, but in one day, I had so many stories to tell, and experienced a unique perspective far removed from my life in Los Angeles.

Travel outside your comfort zone; you might be surprised by what you learn about yourself.

Several years ago, I attended an artist residency in Morocco. I had struggled to find the right fit, but I knew I needed to step further outside my comfort zone. Morocco was what I needed, and it knocked me on my ass. When I returned home, I had many ideas to paint and multiple stories to write, becoming more prolific than ever. It’s another example of how stepping outside your comfort zone can lead to unexpected creativity.