Most of you probably know that I write a lot of songs. And I’ve written a lot of songs for quite a few years now. Early on as a writer, I was superstitious that, one day the gift of songwriting that had seemingly fallen from the sky, would disappear in the night if I wasn’t using it and spending time with it. Early on I wrote and wrote and wrote because I was fearful that if I didn’t, songwriting would suddenly vanish. It didn’t, thank you Jesus.
Of course, those first few years were spent woodshedding and writing all the shitty songs that need to come before the good ones start making themselves known so most of that work is gone forever. Then, in 2014, I did my first song a week for a year challenge called Real Women Real Songs and those songs are still up on the old youtube forever and ever if you’re curious.
Then more songs, then some EPs and records, then starting the podcast in 2018 and writing writing writing, then pandemic, then Monday night songwriters and writing writing writing.
So I have more songs than I know what to do with and I am getting ready to record again and I spend my daydreaming thinking about the different collection configurations and album scenarios. Think Fantasy Football draft but for folksingers. Think wedding reception seating arrangement but for folk songs and stuff.
And then I plan a trip to Nashville and then I remember how I did it last time and then I remember that two albums is better than one so why not try for it again? And I remember that the body of work is a story reflecting my story and I remember that I get to choose the narrative and I remember I can put chapter three in an underwater cave in the South China Sea if I think that’s the treatment it needs to be what I want it to be and what I need myself to be which is here and open and willing.
Willingness as a long-term plan. Willingness as a skill to be honed has been underrated much like caves on the coast of distant oceans. Willingness really does cover so much territory. Love: check. Patience: check. Honesty: check. Presence: check. Availability: also check. Willingness. I’ve been catching up after all those years I never used that word or thought of its power. It’s soft enough to hold me on bad days. It’s stretchy enough to help extend my borderlands when I’m in it. I like it.
I like a weekday where the music’s up and the car has gas and the calendar shows open days for a trip to Nashville. I like a weekday where it’s plain as Monday that what I really need is to get the hell out of here and find a there that fits for a day or five. “A There That Fits” dibs. I call dibs on that for an album name.
My last album cover for “Sweetheartland” was done by my friend Dave, a tattoo artist in Lincoln, NE. My husband, Jon, got me a gift certificate to Dave’s tattoo parlor for Christmas and it’s time to get some ink, my friends. When Dave made the image for the record, part of me thought I might get it tattooed upon my upper arm to commemorate the achievement, but I never did. Almost three years later and still no tattoo.
Maybe the other record’s called, “Mom Jeans.” Ya know. Really lean in to the notion that I am out of touch with the younger folks and that I’m making a record for people like me who like good reliable footwear and full coverage underpants? And why not? Will I win the game of cool? Probably not. Will I win the game of self-awareness while reaching the highest of heights? Also, hard to say. Will I win the game of willingness to try? Yes. There’s that word again. Because EVERYONE can win at willingness. That finish line is huge and they don’t cap registration numbers at all. And it’s free and you’re amazing, and I think you can do it and of course I want a donut but am I going to eat one? No. I am willing to forego donuts in order to achieve my goals and stuff. Or, ya know, maybe I will. I am WILLING to find out. peace.