Happy belated Mother's Day to you all. I spent the day working at my restaurant and then having dinner with my mom. My husband got me a badass garden rake, and my kids made me cards. I picked wild violets to make violet syrup. It was a nice day.
Then today, I got an extra surprise when my new record arrived in the mail. I plan to play a release show for it--and the album I released but couldn't perform in 2020--on June 5th at 6 pm at the Belvidere Bandshell.
Writing music keeps coming naturally to me. But putting it out there has become increasingly awkward. Which feels backwards. Shouldn't I feel more confident the older I get?
The thing is: my relationship with music is more personal than ever. The piano knows some pretty dark stuff about me at this point. I tell it everything. It's like a guidance counselor (the fun counselor that tells you to scream and pound things). And the better I get at talking to it, the more vulnerable I realize I am.
And being vulnerable in front of a crowd doesn't sound as fun as it used to when my only worries were break-ups.
But then I remember the power of vulnerability. Reader, with it being Mother's Day, I've been thinking about the kind of mom I want to be. And it's fair to say that I want my kids to have a role model that's good at being human. Not the kind of person that hides her humanity while putting on a good face.
And so for myself--and my kids--I'll be playing the deep, dark secrets of my heart for the world again this summer. Stop out and see me if you're in Northern Illinois!
Have a great week, and I'll see you next Monday. -Em