Music Projects
Songs. Stories. Soul.
Songwriting is where my soul work finds creative expression.
I don’t do it because I love performing. Or rehearsing. I definitely don’t love promoting.
I do it because this is where I put my money where my mouth is. To walk with others in their own wild and winding creative paths, I must be vulnerable enough to put my methods into practice.
My music doesn’t fit neatly into genres because the stories have lives of their own that I must respect. The music shapeshifts—from stripped-down folk ballads to haunting soundscapes that refuse to stay in their lane. If an image or a symbol shows up and wants to be a reggae song, I don’t ask, “Will this chart?” Or “Am I that kind of artist?” I ask:
“Is this in service to Soul?”
Then I go spelunking in the underbelly of creative practice to tell stories of love, grief, heartbreak, soul longing, and the terrible ache of being human.
And I bring my treasures back to share with my soul friends, with the hope that their own soul will stir and be inspired to co-create with me.
Juniper
“Juniper” is an end-of-summer anthem I wrote for my daughters—a love letter to the wild, sun-soaked summers we share and the ache of knowing none of them last forever. I use the beautiful last gasp of summer as a metaphor for how quickly they have grown up, and the feeling of wanting to hold onto the people you love while everything keeps changing.
Letter To My Heart
This song is a conversation between ego, and soul. The anxious, terrified heart beseeching soul for guidance, and soul reassuring it that everything has always been all right. It is the archetypal journey of letting go during life’s thresholds and trusting that everything is guided, nothing is pointless, trust the process, not the feeling, you ain’t damaged, you’re just healing. The culmination of the song being that in the symbolic “death” of life’s tragedies there is always the promise of better things to come.
Home
This song reconsiders the archetype of “Home” through the lens of wandering from place to place looking for friends, relationships, or peace, but finding no contentment. It isn’t until soul reminds there’s nowhere to go, you’re home. That we find that “Home” isn’t a place, but a state to be found within one’s inner self.
Alive
In the early month’s of the COVID pandemic while quarantined from my family, I received the news that a dear friend had passed away. “Alive” is a reggae song, inspired by his freewheeling spirit attempting to capture the reality that time flies and we never know how many days we will enjoy with those we love.
Goldilox
This song is a reimagining of the story of Goldilocks. The song questions the stories we tell about women who make messes while trying to survive, asking whether she was ever really the villain at all. Beneath the folklore, it’s a deeply personal song about loneliness, trust, and the ache of simply wanting a soft place to land.
Gone
The grieving process is very individual. And multiple people affected by the death of the same person can be in very different places at different times. I wanted to write a song that touched on each of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and eventually acceptance. “Gone” reassures the listener that even when others seem to need us to act or think a certain way, it’s OK to feel like someone shouldn’t be gone, for any amount of time.