thoughts

I Am

I am an incorrigible daydreamer in designer shoes
I wonder if I’ll ever get better at spelling
I hear the fluxy-future constantly changing its mind
I see a million empty pages to fill
I want more time, more time, more time
I am an incorrigible daydreamer in designer shoes

I pretend not to notice absolutely everything
I feel the constant pressure of p-p-potential
I touch the web, the strands, the people, the heart song
I worry I will miss a step and fall, fall, fall
I cry because I’m overwhelmed, over-feelinged, and I’ve run out of real words
I am an incorrigible daydreamer in designer shoes

I understand what it means to let go
I say my secrets out loud in encoded songs
I dream about days when things will be effortless
I try to remember all of the places and names
I hope that there is meaning even when I can’t see it
I am an incorrigible daydreamer in designer shoes

Thunderstorms

Ever since I was tiny I always loved thunderstorms. Growing up in the midwest we had HUGE thunderstorms. The lightning would be so bright that the middle of the night would suddenly look like high noon and the thunder would crack so loud all the windows would rattle and you’d feel it in your bones.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Purging The Shoulds

Should.

That fucking word. I swear to Christ.

It haunts us with things left undone. With potential. An endless stream of what-ifs, could-haves, and maybes that meld into a theatrical chorus of “You are not good enough as you are”.

I’m not talking about positive self-improvement. I’m talking about those twisted voices whose only purpose is to torment. We all have them.

“The Shoulds”.
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