I was born and raised on the corn-filled plains of northern Indiana, grew up in a small town, with close-knit friends and family. But I was not knit particularly close. Growing up in a community full of practical, conservative, wonderful people, I was the weird kid - artsy, temperamental, inattentive, obsessive, irrational, quiet, often gloomy and kind of scary - and to many well-meaning midwesterners, that all meant delusional. I spent most of my childhood in psychologist's offices, monitoring dosages and attempting to remain within the bounds of reality. Which didn't really work. Ever. At the age of 9, I began a decade long course of classical vocal training, and at the insistence of my Mum, also took some piano lessons. I gave piano up early because I honestly hated it, and I was better at the singing anyway. After dropping out of college and some spinning in circles, I moved across the country to Washington state for a fresh start.
My first few years in the Pacific NW were a blur of freedom, creativity, music, marriage, kids, divorce, a teeny bit more music - all spattered with breakdowns - in that order. I've always been pretty slow-going - even though I've been performing music since I was a kid, performance was always a chore, as the promise of "getting used to" stage fright never really came through for me. I've always come up with bits and pieces of original work, but basically scrapped everything the minute it started to take shape - the shape was never good enough. It took the loss of a friend, and a decent chunk of my own mind, for me to finally finish a full song (Z). In my opinion, it's the only song I've ever, all they way, finished.
I don't know what we're all here for, and I don't know what it's all about - but I know that if you spend your life spinning in circles, never allowing yourself to be pulled by what really pulls you, you'll probably never know anything.
Life and love are all you are given - and life will end. If we're being honest, love is all there is.