There is nothing like the acclaim of a crowd. It is a good thing to have the praise of a teacher or a mentor. It is a special thing to earn the regard of a parent. It is a gift to be applauded by a close friend or a spouse.
But the praise of a crowd is different. I grew up doing my share of singing and public speaking on little stages. But I don’t remember feeling that magical connection between me and an audience until I started fooling around with an electric guitar. I was never all that good at it, but I worked hard at soloing, and when I hit a good one--I can still remember the song, it was that old folk song “Hey Joe” that Jimi Hendrix covered--the reaction of the crowd was, well, electric. In my little band there was me, a bassist, a pianist, and a drummer. We told jokes at each other’s expense. How can you tell that a stage is level? Because the drool comes out of both sides of the drummer’s mouth. How does a guitar player change a lightbulb? He holds the bulb and waits for the world to revolve around him.
God's Work. Our hands.