It’s the time of year for wondering if anyone remembers the dresses you wore last time and a lot of singing along ✨ #awardseason
Went to college for a night. Thanks @writerfestnsh and these two songwriting giants for the inspiration and inclusion 🖤
Moved by joy this morning. #music #higherbeauty #monday #thenewyorktimes
Music and friends and our first @listeningroomcafe standing ovation. It’s a good life. (Also we need more guy friends, we love you Dustin.)
hugs for everyone included w/ ticket
Little girl, soon to be a woman, You will grow up hearing about yourself, and once you are grown up, you will still hear, What you are, What you are supposed to be. Sometimes, it will sound beautiful, the poems and the songs and the essays and the books, describing you. Describing what you are, What you are supposed to be, In your womanhood and your glory. Little girl, you will hear often that you are “both” and “all.” Both soft, and strong. Both pretty, and smart. All of creation. All of the universe. Both sharp, and moderate. A challenger and a comforter. A crusader and a compassionate shoulder. A lover and a fighter. A ball cap and high heeled shoes. A prayer on Sundays and a cuss word on Mondays. An adventurer and a homemaker. Sexy and demure. A powerhouse and a mother. A creator and an achiever. Pure and exciting. Independent and approachable. Humble and well-dressed. Imaginative and practical. Fierce and forgiving. Wild and steady. Free and still. Both and all. Both and all. Little girl, soon to be a woman, Let no one tell you that you cannot be both. Let no one tell you that you cannot be all. But here is something else (listen closely, and lean in): Let no one tell you that you have to be. Just be, little girl. Just be girl. Just be woman. One, or both. None, or all. You are enough, crown of creation, on top of God’s head or laying at His feet. And. Or. Whatever. You are enough. . [painting: Sugar On The Floor, Kimberly Potts]
// You can’t catch a spirit in a cage, Or put perfection on a page, And you can’t feel the breath of God, Until it’s running through your veins, Like the secret song of a hummingbird, Truest sound I’ve ever heard, In the night, a song He speaks, When deep calls unto deep // - “last night God sang me a song,” by @thewhistlesandthebells; the song that plays in my mind every time I see a sunset and naively, compulsively, millennially, attempt to take a photo of it, for what end, I can’t be sure. You had to be there. You ought to be there. I hope you will be, and that I will be, and that even if we can’t do it justice, we’ll keep taking knock-off photos as a reminder that the sunset exists. That its painter exists. A glory pleading to be beheld. #whateveryoudo #dontsettle
Listening to this podcast alone on my porch on an off day, my heart so full with no one to spill over onto, and Instagram exists, and you all are now the recipients of my joy and gratitude, and anyone who is in the music business or wants to be or is not and doesn’t want to be, listen to this and be inspired. Somehow, someway, after overcoming my biggest fear in the world (“moving on”), these two incredible men became my mentors and friends. Here they are being transparent and brilliant as always. But on the internet this time. Enjoy.