I woke up with seventeen revelations
on the seventeenth floor
in room seventeen-oh-seven
early morning demons alive and well
reflections
Answer the Damn Call
A common question I get asked in interviews is “What made you choose to be a musician?”
I almost always start laughing. CHOOSE to be a musician? I didn’t CHOOSE to be a musician. Who would ever do this to themselves? In fact, I’ve quit being a musician five times I can think of and I’m sure there were more than that. I consider quitting at least once every couple of weeks to this day.
What Is Brave?
I was never taught to be brave. To my recollection.
It was more the opposite. Not cowardly, but timid. Don’t raise your voice, don’t handle things yourself. Always ask for help. Defer to men. Defer to adults. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Be a polite quiet lady. Demure. Graceful. I was taught to stand up straight, how to choose the correct china patterns, correctly set the table. How to correctly clean the house, and fold laundry. I was taught how to dress appropriately for specific occasions. How to place my hands and feet just so when having my portrait taken.
The Story Behind “Burst”
“Burst” was released to the world as a music video yesterday – this song is very near to my heart and I’ve been feeling super vulnerable for the last two weeks gearing up for it.
I wrote this song when I was at my most raw and I wanted to capture what was going on inside my head.
Insomnia
At night the ocean is a giant black void. It’s the beginning and the end. The future and the past. It’s every dream and every nightmare rolled into one. The waves are the sound of perpetual motion. Proof the world continues on around you – even when you hold your breath. You are small. You are insignificant.
How to Therapy
I want to talk about therapy. As of 2018, I have collectively been in therapy for 13 years.
You’re welcome, Earth.
I have a history of severe depression, anxiety, and a delightful sprinkling of suicidal tendencies, a.k.a. MENTAL ILLNESS. (Insert dramatic music and crowds running away in black and white b-movie terror). When it first showed up so many years ago I was very blessed that I had friends in my life who insisted I wasn’t okay and pointed me in the direction of getting professional help. I send them little prayers every day.
To say there was a lot of stigma around “going to therapy” is sort of the understatement of a lifetime. My parents even tried to talk me out of it because they didn’t want me to get a reputation. They meant well. Thank God I did it anyway because I was suicidal and if I hadn’t I’d be dead now.
New Year 2018
I’ve wanted to write this blog for about a year. I’ve been trying to come up with the right word. That’s what’s been slowing me down. After all that I went through from 2014-2017 (which I’m now coining “The Business”) I’ve been lacking the right…word…for what it is I’m doing with myself now after such extreme change.
