Happy New Year to you, my friends and supporters. You are the reason I get up every morning, and in 2017, together, we are going to be a part of a powerful outpouring that will move mountains. We mark the time to give ourselves a new beginning. Here it is, and it has everything we need. Our faith, our intent, our scars, and our innocence. I love you.
Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and any other reason we can find to celebrate and bring us through the dark night.
Here in Vermont we are nestled into the snowbanks that are piling up, finding friends, playing music, cooking up a storm and circling the seeds we want for next summer's garden.
Here is to the hope that we will each of us stoke the fires and burn our lights a little brighter. That we will do whatever it takes to wake our dreams to reality. Love and more love to you all!
I was once a part of a Peace Walk in Taos, NM. The leaders of the walk had come from Japan and they carried with them an alter like pan that held a small fire they kept burning. One of the leader's grandmother had started that fire, and they tended it so that it never went out. The grandmother had gone to Hiroshima right after the bombing, where her son was one of the deceased. They would never find his body, and so she took an ember from the fires that were still burning and brought it home to her alter. She tended it and kept it ever burning. The Peace Walkers had started their flame from that alter fire and brought it to the us on a ship. Then they had walked across the US carrying it and gathering people to walk some of the miles with them.
I was changed by those people, and now, 17 years later, I don't remember their names, but I vividly remember how dedicated they were to that flame.
I started a song right after the election about fire, because it is apparent to me that we need some passion. I was writing it in the middle of the chaos, the chaos in my heart and the chaos in my life, since we had just moved and I was trying to set up a mic amidst towers of moving boxes and piles of things with no shelves yet to put them on. But that is where the flame came from, that acute pain of seeing so many people vote against the well being of their neighbors. I took the flame from that moment, and now I am trying to best determine how to keep it going for a long time. It has to be kept going. I can't sleep in, I have to have my space orderly, I have to take really good care of myself. All these things are part of keeping a flame going for a long time. It is obvious to me now that all the songs for my next album will come from that flame, and when they are ready, I will walk them out into the world.
There is a tyrant who is a stranger. There is a tyrant in our bed. There is a Tyrant in our stories, There is a tyrant in our head.
We do it all up, we suck it all in, we smile and agree. We're the center of attention while we bind our own feet.
Damn that phony shine. I am after something brighter. I will stand up tall in my get it done boots, and I will set myself on fire.
I will set that fire, I am after something brighter.
In spite of the weeds, in spite of the ache- Today is a pair of hands and tomorrow is the clay.
What they didn't tell you, that's their biggest lie.
See, there is nothing like the way that your heart reflects the light.
Damn that phony shine. I am after something brighter. I will stand up tall in my get it done boots, and I will set myself on fire.
I will set that fire, I am after something brighter.
Hey everybody- Happy Thanksgiving! I hope that this Thanksgiving, we can say thanks for our friends and families, for each other. I hope we can also each call to mind the things that we do for others, that we can recognize ourselves as the generosity that the world needs right now. I love you all.
After something traumatic happens, when we are walking around in a daze, it is easy to neglect the basics. Friends, I am begging you, take care of yourself. Drink water. Eat Vegetables. Sweat. Breathe. We need this. We need to support each other in this. We can’t take care of anything if we don’t take care of ourselves. We need to be at our best. Our creativity needs us to be at our best. I also think we need to consider how the barriers to basic self care are damaging our democracy.
We are what we eat- yes? Malnutrition causes neurological disorders. I think that we really need to acknowledge the role malnutrition and mental illness have in the struggle for an enlightened culture. Michelle Obama made this connection in her efforts to end childhood obesity. You can eat too much food and still be malnourished. So much of our country does not have access to healthy food, and then even if they do, there are social norms and patterned behaviors that prevent people from taking care of themselves. In addition, access to mental health care is fraught with obstacles. Hillary’s focus on children mattered, because this problem is a generational cycle that is most effectively broken EARLY. This will never be on the Republican agenda, but it needs to be on ours. We will not have government support, but we still need to make progress on this front.
Our democracy can only be as healthy as the people it serves.
I cried alot yesterday. I cried because a platform of hate, greed, and celebrity strategically won over a platform of unity and service. It still isn’t the majority of us, but millions and millions of people were willing to align themselves with racism, misogyny, and the denial of science and knowledge. So many more than I thought could do that- did that. Yesterday was one of the darkest days my heart has seen. I, and so many of us, are grieving.
Grief can have transformative powers. There is such a thing as post-traumatic growth. When our hearts are broken, when our psyche is so broken up that we don’t even recognize ourselves, we have an opportunity. We get to choose how we will put the pieces back together, and we have a very real opportunity to become a better person. We don’t want it, we would give it back if we could, but that is what we must rise to. Jonathan Haidt writes about this phenomenon in his book “The Happiness Hypothesis.” (Very worth reading)
Friends, this is what this means. The stage is open and we have all just realized we are the ones who are supposed to sing. We are going to find strength we didn’t know we had. We will see more clearly who our real friends are and hold each other closer. What is actually important will come into clear focus, and the trivial will fall aside.
I would rather have the first woman president than this growth right now. Growth happens from joy and possibility too, and I wish with my whole broken heart that was what I was writing about.
So yesterday was for crying. Today, I am an artist, and I am awake early. I am working to heal the people I love and the culture of the world I live in. I will be working longer hours.
I am packing. We are getting ready to move all the way across the country. I am forced to ask what is important. Literally and metaphorically of course. It is coming down to space, and seeds.
I literally have to get my whole life into a van. It seems crazy hard. Then I remember that I moved out here on a greyhound. My stuff is not my years. My old journals are not my creativity. I have to trust that making space will make a home for potential.
I am feeling sad about leaving my friends, but because I tour so much, and we have the internet, that doesn’t seem to feel as painful as leaving Seattle itself. I am having a hard time leaving my home and the way it feels to wake up and walk to the sound and look at the mountains. I can’t bring the view with me, so I have settled on seeds. I have become the crazy lady taking seeds from all the roadside flowers I love on my way to the water. I have actually met several of my neighbors that I never spoke with all the years we have been here by knocking on their door and telling them how much I have always drooled over their hollyhocks or lupine and asking if I can fill my pockets with some seeds.
I guess I will have to do the same with the journals. I’ll flip through them today. I’ll see if there are any seeds. I’ll jot them down and leave behind the 50 notebooks that will not fit. The seeds are easy to carry. And they will grow well with all that space.
Before the guitar, my singing interest was mainly in musical theater. Those of you who have known me a long time remember. I started writing my own songs when I started playing the guitar. Youtube didn’t exist. I skipped over my adolescent cover song period. My inner 15 year old wants her due.
Making a cover album is about really tuning in to what moves me. It is about transcending the fear of disapproval. We can’t spend our artistic energy worrying about whether we move anyone else. We have to move ourselves.
Making a cover album is about listening more than I speak. When we are speaking, we say over and over what we already know. There are mountains that we can’t see past the valleys we are camped in. We have to be willing to know we don't know most of what is out there to know. (Don't you know?)
Making a cover album is about connecting deeply with those whose work I stand on. Every artist has a family tree of great influences, and each of those have their tree of influences. I want to dig into the roots of what moves me. I want to connect with my artistic family tree.
Also fun. It sounds fun. I like fun.
I will give it everything I have. I promise. I want to learn. That is a central value to me as an artist. I believe in my heart of hearts that we are always capable of growth. For me artistic growth goes hand in hand with spiritual growth and it is a lot cheaper than therapy. I will always be pushing myself to work beyond a censor and to tune into truth. I feel like it is time for me to really spend some time with the artists who have “brought me to church” over the years and learn what I can now at this point in my journey from them. I want to cover the artists that have sung to me at my highest and lowest. I want to cover the songs that I put on repeat while my head rested on the speaker. The ones in my headphones on the long Greyhound bus rides. I want to learn. I intend to take what I learn and let it inform the 2nd phase of this writing/recording project which will be a cycle of new original songs. I am calling this whole project “The Call and Response”.
Here is the thing- I’ll find a way to make what I need to make. All artists do. But in order to SHARE it, I really need support. If you join in and support me in this project before Sept 15, you will get your name printed in all the credits. Like the Patron that you are. You will be along for the whole ride, and we'll be doing it together. That will be fun.
Several years ago, I was playing a show in a nice venue in Montana. At the time, it was one of the nicer stages I had ever performed on. When we rolled in at about 2 in the afternoon, there was a man sitting at the bar who had obviously been drinking. He wanted to give me a massage. I was really uneasy until the bartender told me that he was a wonderful massage therapist and that he was here drinking today because his brother had died that morning. After hearing those parts of his story, and watching him give my boyfriend Jakob a massage that he was raving about, I let him give me a shoulder massage at the bar. It was a turning point for me. I don’t know if it was just his intensity or what, but it felt like his hands reached deeper into my body and pulled more tension from me then I could ever have consciously known was there. He told me as he worked my muscles, that I had to be free if I wanted to make the people feel free. It was the moment that concept came into my awareness as a singer, and I have been circling back to it for the past several years, finding ways to be more free both in my mind and in my body.
Singing is my spiritual practice. Studying singing has made me a better person. It is a humbling, unfolding study of your depths and a search for simplicity.
It is also all just muscles. We all have more or less the same equipment. We can all learn to let our voices resonate without tension, which is the foundation of the kind of singing that sends a chill down your spine.
My biggest leaps in performance seem to come from a deeper understanding and implementation of something really basic.
That being said:
I found a new level of release this week, just by adding a facial massage and tongue stretch to my warm up routine. (Do that! No really, don’t skip it!)
My advice for singers of every level: You are a singer. I am a singer. It is amazing how hard that can be to say. Say it. Then find a way to release tension. Repeat.
When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me'. Erma Bombeck
I am thinking today about the way I try to save things. I know it is cliche- but my grandmother only used the good dishes at Holidays and I have a whole lot of her in me. I've gotten past the good dishes thing by only having one set of dishes, but I am solidly guilty of hoarding ideas and materials. Projects and promises. This spring has been about relearning some old lessons, and this one is coming around again.
I can't wait until I am a better artist to paint the canvases that I have collected. I can't wait until I am a better singer or songwriter to get out the ideas I have today. Today's materials are the path to that artist, silly.
Besides, while I love the sentiment of this Erma Bombeck quote, she is wrong. I know there is no way to actually use it up. There are always more images and ideas and inspired moments. They will always keep coming.
Some of what I worry about, I could probably control. It isn’t real worry. It is anxiety coupled with procrastination. It hits me when I can’t do a thing about it, like in the middle of the night when I wake up and spin on how I still am not caught up with accounting. Or like when I need to do some emailing, but I have no internet connection. These things add up and then sit on my chest.
Other worries could have more concrete answers, but I can’t seem to go there. I feel sad about friends who I miss, but at some point, I have to acknowledge it is always me who calls them. But I can’t say it out loud. So it turns to worry, and lodges under my belly.
Sometimes the future feels muddy, and I don’t know which way to turn. I feel a lot of anxiety around this, but if I am honest, I am more anxious about the freak outs and reactions of the people close to me. I know how to flow with the river, but I am very sensitive to the emotional states of the people around me. I can’t control them, and so I worry, and it lays on my face and anchors where my jaw meets my ears.
I haven’t learned to stop it. But I can take it off and leave it for awhile. In the woods. In the water. On the yoga mat. With my notebook and my guitar. I forget I know how to deal, and then I remember, and then I forget, and then I remember ...
Maybe you can relate. Maybe we both need a deep breath. I am taking one now, and thinking of you.
Rhythm and repetition are the spine of poetry and music. We can find something familiar in something new because it hits us on the level of rhythm. We can sink right into it, so when we variate the rhythm, or we leave time altogether, then the return to rhythm is so much sweeter.
Like so many things that are true when applied to art, this is also true to our lives, no? When you practice something everyday, when you show up, the routine does alot of the digging for you, and you find yourself reaching new depth. Then something disrupts that routine. It might be something great like vacation, or something not great like grief, but life happens, everything gets turned upside down and the rhythm is gone. You find yourself looking for it again, and it begins to surface and then there you are, like when the bass finally drops, back in your rhythm with new eyes, and new energy, and new bravery.
We don't have to be virtuosic. We just have to groove.
Yesterday I was feeling the urge, all day long, to write a song. I tried some tricks. I did some excercises. I got nowhere. So I switched gears and made a linocut instead. I have been working on this one for awhile, but hadn't gotten around to printing it, and I added the sentiment I most needed to hear. I like how it came out, and this morning, that song that just didn't want to be heard yesterday is sneaking out.
Pretty often, I don't need new ideas. I don't need something new and profound to say. I just need another perspective from which to say what is on my mind and heart.
Also, if you would like one of these prints, let me know. They are $25 on acid-free lightweight printmaking paper.
Today we have the long night to renew us, and the sun returning to give us hope. They aren't cliches. They are the rhythms that we have always been a part of. I embrace the longest night. I embrace the solitude, and the unknown. I embrace the still point between breathing in and breathing out. I embrace the coming sun. I embrace the beauty that is coming that I can't even imagine yet. Death and Rebirth. Transformation and Renewal. Change is at hand. Happy Solstice Everyone.
When you need a rest, you need a rest. I took some days off from writing. But a rest is death if you don't come back, eh?
Sometimes, to get myself back in the groove I need to do some collecting. For writing songs this week, I picked up a stack of poetry books and opened my notebook. I then filled five pages with 100 beautiful rhymes. Then I made a list of 25 poetic lines that moved me. Then I pick one of those lines, and try to say the truth of it in my own words, with my own stories, my own details. From there, I usually find I have something to say. It is OK to collect inspiration with the intent to understand it, digest it, and reform it. When we are trying to put something as far beyond language as life into words, it is helpful to examine how words have been used well before, and then make those structures our hangers to drape ourselves on.
I love the feeling of new songs coming into form. They always surprise me with who they turn out to be.
The days are short and we are inching closer and closer to the tipping point. The darkest time of year, and the time when the light starts coming back. The time where we touch an end and a beginning. A time where we take a close look at what we are going to leave behind and what we are taking forward with us. It is traditional to imagine that we will leave all our baggage and take our lessons with us, but actually, I have found that to rarely be reality.
Most of the time when we go to step off that void into a new unknown, we are leaving behind some dreams and relationships, however tangled they may be that we had love and really good intentions for. And what we take with us for the time being, are imperfect wounded hearts that probably won't be able to learn the lessons they need to heal without time and space.
That is the nature of it. You can't plan for every move. If we knew what we needed to get somewhere, we would already be there. We take what we have. It probably isn't enough, so we'll have to find the rest along the way.
We live in a world with so much emphasis on productivity. The struggle for relevance in any field requires long, hard work. But after long hard work, and really as a part of it, we have to respect our need for rest.
Some days you don't have much to say. Maybe you are tired. Maybe you need rest.
Athletes know they can't train endlessly. Their strength is built in the recovery. It is often the same with music. We practice something new with diligence, but we can't really know it until we have stepped away and slept.
We can't create the kind of transformations and connections that make the work that really touches people without time for dreaming.
So get inspired, burn that oil way past midnight, and then sleep in.
Here is a kind of uncomfortable truth. We don't get to a new place without a storm. We all know that birth involves some violence. A chick has to burst through an egg. Even a seedling has to crack and destroy the casing of its seed.
That is the natural order. We need stillness. We need silence, and rest, and contemplation. We need the steady drip of the day to day, but we also need to recognize that we need the winter and the storms she brings. The pain of editing something we have created clears the way for the growth we need.
Perhaps our best work would not be possible without the death of our previous work. Our maybe we just need the space to see new possibilities. (Can you tell that I recently brought ALOT of stuff to the thrift store?)
I was reminded yesterday of a metaphor I heard once, about how we can let our ideas that don't work get given to bugs. Let the bugs tear them apart into little pieces and then carry them forward with you as fragments that may be just what your newest idea is looking for. Editing can hurt sometimes, but growth comes with a shock.
Just after a new idea hits me, I want to collect as much information about that idea as possible. I want to find images and songs and poems and books and do Tarot readings and take in as much as I can. It helps. I see what has come before me. I try to make connections. I swim around in a pool of inspiration.
But you can't take in forever.
At some point, the breath stops and rests inside you. It is the same for creative work. It rests there, flows through your blood and bones, all that inspiration.
But it can't stay there forever. You have to breathe it out.
My best work comes when I keep the rhythm. In and Out. I can refine it once it is out. Breathe it back in and back out again. The work is there - the in and the out. The muse is in that space between.
I just opened my email inbox to 250 Black Friday emails.
Luckily, I had already gone for a jog on this beautiful Seattle day and had my coffee. I was ready for the mass delete.
We all have to make a living. I don’t judge people for sending out sales announcemnets on this fabricated consumption day. If there is one thing I know from being self employed, selling is hard and we are all a part of it and connected to it. Art is not separate from it.
I also don’t judge people for wanting to find gifts for people that we love. We want to give someone something that makes them feel seen and known. We want something to represent our connection to them. There is love and devotion there.
The part that is a problem is how Black Friday plays on our fears of losing out, and not our desire to be generous. It makes total sense that the day after we reflect on all that we have and what we are thankful for that we would then reflect on what we want to give. That could be a beautiful thing.