It was an industrious week.

On the restaurant front, our staff made a few video cooking demonstrations, and we started a big clean-out for reopening.  On the home front, I planted the rest of my garden (helloooo rhubarb and concord grapes). And on the music front, I wrote a few new songs to see if any of them would help round out the new record.

Then I looked at my website for the first time in a long time, and I realized it needed some updating.

It's been 5 years since I've had pictures taken of myself. And with a new album on the horizon, I figured it was time.  So I called up Mindy Young, and--keeping on our face masks--we walked out into the world to take a few pictures.  Nothing glamorous, just two women trying to capture the city-at-night feeling of the new album.  

I thought it would be awkward.  I haven't worn make-up in years, let alone entered into a photo shoot. But I slipped into that shoot like it was a pair of old brown shoes.  It was easy and comfortable and a lot of fun. 

When I got home, I felt instantly guilty and questioned myself. (Isn't that just like guilt to swoop in and ruin a good time?)  I wondered: can I really walk around claiming to be a down-to-earth humanitarian and still enjoy getting my picture taken?

Yes. Yes I bloody can.

Reader, I gotta say: I'm tired of guilt. The jig is up, and the illusion is shattered.  I'm not just a woman who puts all of her efforts into helping others. I apparently also like to have my damned picture taken.

As I evolve during this quarantine, I'm finding tremendous relief in breaking character.  If you also find yourself having a hard time holding yourself to the persona you've invented, I invite you to join me in reinventing it.  It's a waste of time to beat ourselves up for stepping outside of a role that we didn't need to hold in the first place.

With that, this mama is off to make a little supper.  Go easy on yourself this week.  I'll see you on Monday. -Em