Thinking About Running Away (aka the longest blog ever)

If I had a million dollars and if it were of no consequence to the environment, I think I would go on a perpetual road trip. When I start to feel overwhelmed by life, I tell myself that if I really wanted to, I could pack up and runaway to somewhere in the great wide open. Where I can remember how small I am, and how big God really is and all He is capable of doing.
The road tripping began at a young age. When I was in elementary school, our family vacations consisted of us piling into our silver station wagon and heading east to visit my grandparents in Texas, camping all along the way. I think I inherited the love of the open road from my dad the first time we set out. He was always so excited to show us his favorite national parks, favorite campgrounds, and favorite landmarks he had discovered years earlier on a cross country motorcycle trip he had taken. Taylor and I usually sat in the “way back” as we then called it. The seat faced out so we could watch the road disappear beneath us, and it also gave us an ample advantage at the license plate game, which we played furiously for a couple of years. (I still have a knee jerk reaction to hit someone when I see an out of stater) Our butts fell asleep about 30 minutes into the drive because we were forced to sit with our legs straight in front of us and across the ice chest. And truth be told, the seat in the way back was really not all that comfortable to begin with. But it was still the best seat in the house. We went on some great trips throughout Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas in this fashion. I knew something big was opening up in me during those long stretches, but I couldn’t quite name it. I haven’t been back to Zion since I was 9 years old and yet I still dream about it. I still call it one of my favorite places on earth. That says something.
After a particularly rough year at home in the 7th grade, my dad, Taylor, Dylan, Silas and I drove up to Montana for part of the summer. My dad had a big, red van then and the fight was always on for who got to sit shot gun. Silas sat somewhere in the middle and spent the entire time drawing maps for my dad so we wouldn’t get lost. The drive to Montana has become synonymous with and symbolic for many things. We began going there once or twice a year when I was about 11. My dad goes one of three routes to get there and each has their own set of milestones- favorite restaurants, pit stop Dairy Queens, dingy hotels, and most importantly- spectacular views. My most distinct memory of that trip though, was listening to my dad sing along to this Jackson Browne song called ‘Looking East’. At the time I had no way of understanding just how poignant the song was to him, all I knew was that he sang his heart out to us in that car while we barreled through Idaho. Especially during the bridge of the song where Jackson sings “How long have I left my mind to the powers that be? How long will it take to find the higher power moving me?” It feels liberating to me all these years later to remember us driving to solace in the mountains while listening to a song about “the power of a prayer released”. Now I finally understand the perfect metaphorical significance of that moment, and I know it has something to do with the stirring I feel in my own heart from time to time to start anew.
The summer after my freshman year of college, I told Silas I would take him anywhere he wanted to go if he did a research project of sorts on it. He surprised me with Mt. Rushmore (he was 9), but a promise is a promise. We somehow conned Dylan and Lauralee into joining and the research project began. We decided on all the places we wanted to see along the way, made several trips to AAA, stockpiled the camping supplies, and I started siphoning off a percentage of the tips I made waitressing to fund our little adventure. When we left my parents house on the first morning, I felt nauseous. WHAT was I doing taking these little kids on a trip half way across America? At this time in my life I was what I would call an extremely uptight and annoying control freak. Its kind of amazing to me I got these three people to commit to hang out with me for 2 weeks solid. I worried about my siblings constantly and I hadn’t quite yet learned how to just be a sister and not a faux parent. I’m pretty sure it was this trip when the tide began to turn. I felt like I was on the verge of tears (the good kind) every day we spent on the road. Everything seemed to remind me that there was still time to change, still time to grow, still time to enjoy everything that was in front of me that I sometimes couldn’t see. We laughed a lot on that trip, about everything from the Sturgis Rally we happened upon (of course our luck) to the inclement weather we happened upon to the very unfortunate head scarves and sunglasses that La and I thought were oh so stylish. And when we got home I knew I was different for the better.
My sister Sarie drove home with me to California from Nashville when we graduated college in 2004. She was more than a trooper for several reasons: a) I am a really slow driver and she hates that, b) I can listen to the same cd like 3 times in a row and she hates that, c) I got really sick on the stretch between Tempe, AZ and LA and she drove the entire way while I barfed intermittently into various plastic bags (one of which, I hate to say, had a hole in it), and the clencher- d) Sarie really doesn’t like roadtrips. However, this trip ended up being pretty glorious, mostly because I got Sarie to myself for a whole week. Earlier this year while cleaning out my closet at my parent’s house I found a list of funny quotes I had scribbled down when we were driving. I couldn’t remember what most of them referred to anymore but they made me laugh all the same. Highlights of the trip I clearly recall include: giving Sarie singing lessons late one night outside of El Paso (ask her to sing “Shadows” by Amy Grant. She nails it!), being the only two Sacramento fans at a bar in LA during the Kings/Lakers playoffs, laying out all day in Redondo Beach, and getting to visit a bunch of friends and family along the way. It felt like the last hurrah before the real world.
Since I moved to LA, I have made the beautifully scenic drive on I-5 a few times back up to the Bay Area, but my last real big roadster was in December when I left Nashville. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before and ended up leaving in the dark (before any Starbucks had even opened. Oh so tradge). It was freezing cold and I was so much sadder than I had planned on being. Everything I owned was in my car. I suddenly felt like I wasn’t ready to go. However in the week and a half that followed, I felt nothing but pure gratitude for everything in my life. My first stop was Dallas where I had a big pj party with Sara Joy, Pam and Shelly. We ate pizza and stayed up late into the night prank calling everyone in our collective phone books. The next morning I went to San Antonio to see my Noni and Papa. I think their house might just be the safest place in the world. A couple days later I drove to Tucson to visit Jen. She showed me all around the desert and her favorite nooks of the city. We watched Christmas movies and talked about life- marveling at all the great things we have been afforded and dreaming about what might come next. A few days after that, I drove to Phoenix and met my dad. He had decided to fly there and drive the last leg with me. He flew all the way to Phoenix just for me to pick him up at the airport so we could drive right back home. That’s my dad. We listened to Jackson Browne and Bruce Hornsby, we talked and reminisced, shared secrets and silence. I looked out the window into the dark at one point and felt completely satisfied, I didn’t know where we were exactly but my heart was at home with him there in the car. We ate In and Out late into the night and pulled into the drive at 9 Jeffrey Court at about 3 am. I felt like I had earned my way back home, driving all those hours and watching the countryside change across the miles. I had made a real journey to begin this new chapter of my life, and I somehow felt closer to it- it wasn’t just happening to me anymore, I was really in it.
This has turned into the longest blog known to man, which wasn’t really my intention when I sat down to ramble. Over the course of recounting these stories though, I can’t help but see the common thread of each experience. When you are on the road, you are always arriving, either to somewhere new and exciting that may potentially change everything, or to home, where you remember who you are. To arrive is to reach a destination, and to have a destination at all is to have hope and dreams and faith and all those wonderful, amazing things. I think it reminds me there is life out there, and life still in here too.

Musings

Here are some updates in no particular order:

1) Last week I teamed up with this great company called La'Fa'Mos (please check them out at: www.lafamos.com) They are a marketing and publicity firm that works with independent artists and they are going to help me promote the new record when it comes out!! I'm really excited and so thankful to have their help and expertise in getting the word out there.

2) As of yesterday, EIGHT of my friends are engaged. Not eight acquaintances or eight long-lost pals, but eight dear friends. For many of these friends, I remember gossiping excitedly over coffee or breakfast about this new guy they recently met who is oh-so-magic and low and behold, he ended up being the one. I have grown up with these girls, I've been through so much with each of them and it has been amazing to watch everything unfold. I am so happy for their happiness and just honored to share in this chapter of their lives.

3) Perhaps because I was sick in bed last weekend or because love truly is in the air for practically everyone I know, or because the holiday season is impending, I have watched the movie "Love Actually" pretty much every night while falling asleep. I'm thinking- not normal, but I'm letting it slide for now.

4) I have the distinct joy of singing harmony for one of my managers at Hugo's this coming Tuesday at The Hotel Cafe. His name is Christopher Dallman and not only is he such a talented singer/songwriter, but he is also one of the funniest people I know, and he does a KILLER impression of Annette Benning that is making me laugh right now just thinking about it. Check him out at www.myspace.com/christopherdallman and come to the show next Tues if you live in LA.

5) Josh Holtsclaw, who is doing all the artwork for the new record, sent me the first draft of the album cover. I'm thinking it might be the last draft because it's amazing and I'm obsessed with it right off the bat.

And now it is almost midnight, I'd better get crackin if I want to get in that nightly viewing of Love Actually. Hope all is well out there and stay tuned for more to come.

Fall is Magic

It's about 10pm on Sunday evening. I had some glorious plans to go to bed an hour ago but after some tossing and turning, I sat back up and started a blog. Haha.
Fall came to LA this weekend. I've been told it's a rare sighting and the weather channel even forecasts 90 degree days this coming week, so I have been trying to soak it all in while I can. This includes sleeping with my window open tonight and welcoming the chilly breeze. It also includes welcoming the sounds of all my neighbors in a 2 block radius. My street is essentially a row of apartment buildings and this is new to me. This means I am trying to fall asleep to various television shows (right now: Desperate Housewives and Southpark), cars speeding down the street, two people arguing, a close resident with a terrible cough, etc. I spent my last years in Nashville living in cute little neighborhoods and falling asleep to charming sounds like trains and insects whose names I never even bothered to learn. When I was back I took some time to marvel at these elements of a small(er) city life that I truly miss. I jogged through my old neighborhood that borders a real-live working mill! Jenny's house has a big porch with a perfect porch swing. One morning on my way to the studio, the sky just opened up and poured for about 10 minutes in typical Nashville fashion. It filled me with this silly kind of gratitude to just watch it all, remembering the smell of rain on warm days and the way the color of the sky changes for those 10 minutes while it thunders and yet remains blue. Nashville is perfect in the fall. Red, golds, greens, dark browns- they are everywhere and they know they are on display. On my second -to -last day in town I spent the early morning at Percy Warner park and it was just breathtaking. It was as if the trees had been saving up all their beauty and strength and were just letting loose before the sneaky winter comes in and turns everything grey. It was one of those times when you try to make a memory out of every step you take. I usually experience that when I'm travelling abroad or on a camping trip or a roadtrip or exploring a new city I've never seen. And yet there I was on a trail I pretty much know by heart. I guess there is always magic to be found.
Speaking of magic, LA for sure has its perks. I have to be honest and say that moving to LA and really loving it has totally surprised me, but love it I do. It has been humbling and gratifying to make a home in a city like this one. It is huge and sprawling and smoggy, it is scary to drive in, there are crazy people left and right. There are also a lot of awesome museums, great places to eat, landmarks up the waz, the beach, great places to hike and some of the coolest people I know. Yesterday after work I went to Venice Beach with Heather, Amir (her boyfriend) and Mohammed (his cousin). While the gents set off to surf, Heather and I rode our bikes (I know!!) on the boardwalk until we got to the Venice canals. I didn't even know these existed, but apparently Venice Beach was modeled after Venice, Italy, and as such has a series of canals with these adorable pathways and bridges and houses built all around them. Heath and I wound our way around the neighborhood in awe at this little nook of LA life that is so different from anything else I've seen here. I love making these kinds of discoveries. Living in a big city reminds you how small you are and that is comforting to me.
I started my third quarter at school last Monday and I just couldn't get over it- first I get to go to Nashville and now I get to come back to school and sing and play guitar everyday and hang out with all these ridiculous musicians? I spent a good portion of the day trying to figure out how I deserve all this and I finally concluded- I don't!! But it's here, I'm here and all I can really do is keep saying thank you and just enjoy my good fortune.
And now Corteen Place seems to have quieted- I hear only the distant murmer of 101. LA will never be Nashville, as Nashville was never the Bay Area, but what I have learned thus far is that a heart is capable of making room. It grows and expands and allows more places and people than you can imagine to feel like home.

Lucky Me

From September 28


I have been back in Nashville now for almost a week. As the plane landed at BNA last Monday afternoon, I was overcome with an unexpected feeling of nostalgia. Descending into the lush, green and gold trees of fall, I just couldn't wait to get back out onto the city streets, hug my old friends, drive by my old houses, eat at my favorite restaurants, and just soak in the remnants of the old life I once had here.
It has been an amazing week. My main purpose for coming back has been to record my second album. It has been nothing short of an emotional process. After running through songs on the first night in town I was feeling really nervous and anxious about everything. Would my new songs be good enough? Would the band be into them and have fun playing them? Will anyone care about what I'm inspired by these days? The plague of self doubt might be one of life's cruelest curses. Luckily, my dear friend Jen stayed up with me late into the night to talk it out. At the end of the conversation she said, ' This record is as honest as you can be about this part of your life' and suddenly, I was ready.
Being in the studio with the kind of musicians who played on this project is really overwhelming. It's a genius that I can't quite properly describe to those who have never seen it in action. But I will say that there is no feeling like playing your little acoustic guitar vocal to a room full of brilliant players and watching them transform it into something huge and beautiful and so perfectly fitting for what you intended the song to say. The record is again being produced by Matt Mangano and I am so thankful for it. He is a wizard. And in addition to all the magic he brings to the table, I've gotten to spend the week with Brandon Bell, Ben Shive, Justin Rosolino, Lucas Reynolds, Josh Robinson and Danny Byrne- and for one shining day- Stan Sonu. It's just the craziest thing. But I am thankful every minute for every part of it.
I got home late last night and was so tired but just couldn't sleep. I was still buzzing from the events of the week, from our last day tracking, from listening to the actual rough mixes that really are going to one day make it out into the world. I wanted to sit down and write thank you letters to everyone, to try and make these people understand that I will never, ever take for granted the fact that they shared their gifts with me. Instead I re-read some parts of 'Eat, Pray, Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert (it's a great book, btw) and the last paragraph sent me to bed. It reads, 'In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it is wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices"
I am such a lucky girl and I can't wait for you all to hear this record.
It's great to be back in Nash.