She was born a fisherman’s daughter
and spent her childhood cradled in the arms of the Great Lakes, where an endless infusion of musical influences found their
way into a young girl’s bloodstream. From the classics in rotation in Mom and Dad’s small-town Michigan
living room (Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, Louis Armstrong, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass)…to the FM radio staples
blasting from siblings’ bedrooms (Boston, Fleetwood Mac, Steely Dan, Linda Ronstadt)…to the a cappella harmonies
filling the house during neighborhood gatherings under a harvest moon…genres swam together every Lake Michigan night,
often less than an hour after dinner. Because rules were made to be broken.
She got tough and musical, choosing trumpet lessons over cheerleading, peppermint Schnapps over pep rallies, wood
shop over home economics. She cut her hair short so there’d be less to pull when she got caught stealing her sister’s
sweaters. She honed a trademark husky croon singing along to her brother’s endless guitar-slinging lessons.
She got her knuckles rapped by a piano-teaching nun who didn’t appreciate her casual attitude. And in time, she
got bored up north. Because she was born with a restless soul.
She ran to Seattle, took up guitar, and married a man with a floor-to-ceiling vinyl collection. She loved the
man. She loved the mountains and the ocean. She didn’t love the clouds, because they stole so much light
from her life. She escaped to the wall of vinyl and discovered World music, Patty Griffin, Lucy Kaplansky, Iris DeMent,
Eliza Gilkyson, Slaid Cleaves, and a fresh wave of restlessness. She wrote, played, sang, and toured. She increasingly
resented the Seattle rain for diluting the music in her blood. So she broke her own heart voluntarily, clutched her
guitar, and ran to Nashville. Because she wanted more from life.
She fell into a chosen family of top-notch singers and songwriters who shared her blood type. Unobstructed
at last, music poured in from all sides and lifted a craving soul to the surface where it could breathe. She toured.
She loved. She lost. She loved again. She lived. She adopted a pug named Lovey. And she wrote,
played, and sang until life became music and music became life and the two became one and the same. Because, sometimes,
what’s always meant to happen eventually does.