I wasn't dreaming. When I began to write the words came easy. The songs came like they do in the moments when I am staring at people, wondering about all of the things that have happened to them in their life. Rolling their potential tragedy or triumph around in my mind until it falls out on paper. I never wanted to be a songwriter, I also never thought I could sing. On the day the black night sky shared with me my path in this life, I was relieved and terrified. I drove my old car all the way from Alaska to Nashville. I began there in 2008. Fumbling with my self confidence, herding a band together, anxiety and small victories. Around Christmas in 2009 I moved to Austin with my then boyfriend. We spent Christmas day eating on a camp table in a small house we rented by the week and shared with a giant rat. I kept singing and writing and changing. I write about my small Illinois town where I grew up. I write about people who affect me and places I've never seen. After I let go of my old life of solitude in the wilderness, I began to embrace the quickness in which I was required to live, to be a musician in Austin. I sound like everything I've ever seen. I speak from the echoing chambers of my hope filled disillusionment. I want to be heard as more than a girl songwriter because there is a sexless grit behind my words and band. I want to move you.