To most of the 40 people sitting around me at Studio & that night in January 2014, Mike + Ruthy was just a charming folk duo passing through town on the way back home to Woodstock, New York.

To me, the concert was more. It was an omen, a massive coincidence, a sign I’d landed where I was supposed to be. I’d been living in Durango less than 72 hours and knew no one in town.

Mike + Ruthy wasn’t just any band for me. I owned all its albums and had been to five shows in recent years. They would recognize me, we’d chat, and they would ask for requests. Seldom touring west of the Mississippi, they were in Durango of all places, their familiar voices and songs as close to friends as I would have that night. One problem – the show was sold out. The best Studio & could do was take my number in case any tickets turned up.

Looking back, I shouldn’t have worried. Of course a ticket turned up. That’s how Durango has been for me, full of good fortune, happenstance, great people. Later, when Mike + Ruthy played the song I’d requested and told my story, the audience welcomed me with applause.

This was my introduction to Durango and a template for how the last year has gone. The lesson is this: If you get out, you never know what you’ll find. Surprises await, good times await, strangers who will become friends await. But first, you must get out.

My time in Durango has been full of the unanticipated as I’ve explored the cultural and artistic diversity we manage to pack between these parentheses of geography. Many times I’ve headed downtown not knowing what I’d uncover, armed only with mere suspicion of the eclectic possibilities awaiting. It’s always something, whether it’s walking on my dinner break and hearing Lacey Black’s ragtime pouring from the Diamond Belle. Or funking out to Red Eyed Djinn at The Ranch. Or making sounds not appropriate around children after inhaling food from the Ore House at Taste of Durango. Or going to the Dirty Bourbon River Show at Animas City Theatre and dancing to New Orleans brass that was not just dirty, but seriously filthy. Or belly-laughing at improv comedy at the Durango Arts Center. Or becoming inspired by the spirit and stunning work of artist Crystal Hartman or shoemaker Mervin Stilson. Or out for a night of “Because Snowdown” and finding myself taking in a booty-shaking contest. Or biking in costume in a cold, fall drizzle on Halloween after the zombie march, knowing that the wetter my clothes and soggier my shoes, the stronger the memory.

Those are the things that have made this place one I don’t want to leave. And as the new editor of this section, I want to hear about your experiences, too. I want to know what matters to you when it comes to our arts and entertainment scene. What excites you and intrigues you? What artists, musicians and performers have stories to tell, and what issues and challenges does the arts community face?

I probably don’t have to tell you that we have it all here in Durango, a town brimming with cultural and artistic vibrance and energy. There are more surprises out there, more people to meet, conversations to start, artists to support, experiences to create. But we’ve got to get out, out on the town, out of our comfort zones. That’s what I hope to bring to you, to this section, these stories and surprises. I hope you’ll join me.

dholub@durangoherald.com. David Holub is the Arts & Entertainment editor for The Durango Herald