unwanted things

There is no burden like unwanted things. Which is sad because, against all real evidence, things have feelings too. They don’t love in the human way, still: That blue thrift shop sweater out at the elbows has a story. I try to imagine the places it has been, and who wore it before it was mine. Those rundown cowboy boots slouched in the closet talk in …

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shameless

My songs are unapologetically intimate and unfailingly hushed. To me, quiet, sparse and unadorned just feels right. My recordings and live performances, too, a ritual of simplicity. I want you, the listener, to feel each heartbeat in the wake of every heartache. It’s what I’m about. That margin has always been mine, and I have never let what’s happening in the mainstream …

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finder’s reward

When I'm making up a song, I keep an ear to the ground for what people cast off. An overheard remark in a train station, the half-sentences of friends workshopping love’s particulars in the local coffee shop: They’re the finder’s reward. I listen in like an ecclesiastic to the human heart as it bares its splendor and its brokenness. I listen, and write. And as I write, I …

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