Table of contents
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March 15, 2023
“We’ll hang it on a wall. The unique relationship the two of us shared, the partnership, its patronage has ended. Not being able to play it feels like a death. I am learning slowly to think of it as a new thing. It’s still precious, it’s still how my father and sister taught me to play.”
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February 8, 2022
“I defied that little/big voice in my head telling me that every moment must be full of the most profound version of itself. In doing so I literally walked into the texture of sound and image I was craving. And what’s more, I made meaning out of it all the same. I don’t want to miss out on the beautiful moments in life, the inspired steps and sounds, by obsessively trying to find and/or create them.”
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January 30, 2022
“These are the last recordings I will have to share played on my dad's guitar. They have pops and crackles. One in particular is more put together than the others. And I love them because they are more than mine. My father's warmth lingers in them and they are special because they are the last of their kind.”
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April 7, 2021
“And so as we stand on the shoulders of the “unnumbered women dead” and we work to find new ways to resurrect the work of liberation for all those oppressed by systems of hate, greed and prejudice may we learn to stand in solidarity with fellow workers across a wide range of professions.”
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March 22, 2021
“I’m sure I’ll have more reflections in the weeks and months ahead about my time in that place. I’m sure I’ll write many more songs influenced by that time of deep distress, of quirky friendships and captivity in the months and years to come but for now I’m content to have written one song for and about those lovely people, broken, hurting, vibrant and tremendously resilient.”
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March 19, 2021
“Lullabies are written to put us to sleep. But what kind of sleep is up to the context. Sometimes we fall asleep out of exhaustion, physical mental or at times spiritual. The dark night of the soul might lead us into a yearning for rest, for hope, for dreams.”
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February 24, 2021
“Will you join me in the yearning of these undercurrents? A hope for substantial peace, for struggle that doesn’t bow to the powers of destruction in this world and eyes to see and hands to do. Our predecessors have asked us to go up to the mountain, to receive revelation and to struggle in this life for that which promotes thriving, love and justice.”
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February 6, 2021
“Water is falling on my head, I pull up the hood of my dusty pink blazer and listen to the quiet bubbling water. I can see bits of trash here and there and feel a twinge of homesickness for the Eno River and my favorite spots along the Westpoint trails. All the same I am grateful for this little wooded path and thin stream a 5 minute walk from my apartment. I know this will feel like home soon.”
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November 14, 2020
“But there is a maternal nostalgia I feel for those innocent, playful, tired, sad, etc. times of childhood. I hope regardless of your experiences, that this song can take you somewhere that you feel safe, some place that’s home.”
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October 17, 2020
“It fits that water would be involved on all sides of this adventure. A childhood started on a peninsula, riding on boats and living on a small island, moving to the big city and still finding myself living by a river— from which the subdivision got its name— and finally flying over all that water to get to my soon to be adult home.”
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September 18, 2020
“I wait in hope that the beauty that I see today — that I didn’t see a few weeks ago— is only just building. That I will again find myself awestruck, dancing under the stars, spending long twinkling nights creating something for us.”
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June 19, 2020
“It’s not destruction that should be denied it’s what we choose to rid ourselves of. Whether you want to think of it as a burning flame or open spaces my hope is that you would find ways today and the next to gain courage, to feel your value and to live an authentic life based in hope, passion and compassion. I hope you burn brightly and expand out and in. “
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May 20, 2020
“The backyard was the closest I could get to feeling a handle on where I was. Though, sometimes the trees have helped me to get lost at the right times for the right reasons too. Open spaces have expanded to include the sheltered reach of the tree branches and the expansive shadows they cast all around. I don’t see the horizon living outside but these tall trees and this open air will do.”
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April 26, 2020
“I offer these companioning images taken around my home this year. I felt astonished when I took them and I feel transported back there when I see them still. They are woven into my lyrics, melodies and rhythm guitar.”
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April 13, 2020
“So I will keep trying to be present with you, dear reader, in this time of exploration and vulnerability as I face the fear. Because it isn't only what I fear that waits...waiting too are hope and revelation and a life worth living.”
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March 27, 2020
“This ultimately led me to name the piece Easter Ideation. Even in the mud I couldn’t help but see the sprouts coming up and even during suicidal ideation something whispered “resurrection” in my ear. Not always and not often, but significantly enough that I was able to write this song as a suicide note with a counter melody of hope. In the end life won.”
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February 5, 2020
“As I started to sing, pounding on the guitar, I closed my eyes and tried to lean into the invitation as the crowd buzzed with conversation. At some point during the song I felt a calm settle in the room and suddenly I was singing to the quiet, with my eyes still closed, repeating “there are muses all around.” When I opened my eyes I saw them all around, standing with glasses of beer, wine and cocktails, gathered around tables with friends—I saw the muse in their eyes and I felt profoundly grateful for another night to share music and time with friends and strangers in a room filled with music.”
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January 14, 2020
“Maybe my soul hangs in the balance either way. Perhaps it is not about my soul being free—as if there is a fully formed agent that is pure and good waiting to be unchained—but rather a little bird, a child, a lump of clay that is waiting to be formed this way or that way. My hope, prayer and intention going forward is to uncover and practice art that grows and breaths and lives in the context of this truly screwed up world and that reflects my convictions and the respect and liberatory work I owe to others. “
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November 29, 2019
“I found myself swept up in the experience of being in this big city, navigating public transportation for the first time since my days in Manila and feeling all the feels of a city girl who has been too long away from the crowded and bustling metropolitan days of her youth. Since moving back to the U.S.A. for college I had always wondered when I’d finally get to NYC. I’m glad it happened this way. I’m so glad I got to play and sing and wobble around the Big Apple with the goal of sharing and hearing music.“
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November 19, 2019
“Time in Pittsburgh with new and old friends was the best way to usher in Fall season and my new album Open Spaces. Having time with the folks in Pittsburgh gave me some energy to keep trying and to take time to delight in the present work.”
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November 11, 2019
“The emotional labor of producing something so intimate for others to see— to “put yourself out there”— has left me feeling embarrassed at times. Then there have been the moments when I have laughed, danced and literally twirled in circles under the stars as I gave myself permission to celebrate and anticipate producing art of my own making and letting it sing to whoever will listen.”
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August 25, 2019
“So, one month from today I’ll be releasing these well-worn songs as a full length album. I’m excited, nervous, and a bit scared. There’s a lot that is good about this process, though, and grace abounds, as they say.”