(Dead) Mom’s Day, aka Mothered by the Void

Also being back on tour, new music, and some recommendations.

Just a heads up, I talk about losing a parent to suicide in this post. There’s not detail, but if you would just rather not, which is totally understandable, scroll past the photo of the moon to skip ahead.

If you’ve listened to any of my records, and paid attention to the lyrics, you might already know that my mother died by her own hand when I was 4 years old. I have come to process a lot of my latent, unpredictable and ever evolving grief though writing songs. I wouldn’t assume that anyone knows anything factual about my life after hearing a song, as songs are so often exaggerations of the truth, or complete fabrications, or a combination of both-short stories neatly tucked into the barriers of bar lines and carried along by melody.

A photo of my mother, and the cover of my first ever HH release.

Having lived essentially all of my life without the person who gave birth to me in it, every time the second Sunday in May rolls around, I am more acutely reminded of my void. On Mother’s day I sometimes let my mind wander a little further, testing the edges of my grief… This year, I did something new-revisited some of my songs that I consider to be about my mother, about the void, about my relationship to these things. These feel very close to my heart, and often when I sing them I feel her, or something connected to her, almost as if she can hear. I wanted to tap in to the feelings I had when I wrote them, connected to her and holding my grief close. Those who have lost someone to suicide know- it’s a unique, complex hue that surrounds this grief -different from losing someone by sickness or old age, or even an accident. Because I was so young when she died, I learned about her slowly, information trickling in as I became mature enough to hold it. Images pieced together over the years after asking distant family members to share their stories of her. I learned so much about her in the last 5 years that changed the way I thought about her as her own person-not just this ghost I live with. I also let myself fantasize about what my life would be like had she stayed alive, if depression and mental illness wasn’t extremely taboo in the early 90s, if she had gotten the help she needed. What would our relationship be, who would I be? I’ve come to accept that the way the path unfolded was the way my soul chose, something my partner says when we talk about the unfolding horrors of our generation-she says, “Our souls chose to be here now” and I find it comforting. If my mother had stayed alive, I often wonder if I would even write or play music, since most of my drive to create has been fueled by the motherless path, propelled by the void.

Flower Moon in Healdsburg on Mother’s Day

Although I have never experienced the seemingly specific maternal bond, and am reminded of this every spring, I’m also reminded of the women who graciously, messily, occasionally selfishly but lovingly stepped in to fill that Mother sized hole I carry around with me. (And no, I’m not talking about all of my exes here) I have been grateful enough to have lived with a few different caregivings as a child who treated me as their own. Aunts, by marriage, opened their Italian homes to me. 3 Sisters with homes that already had children, homes that were not paid off yet, homes that were often empty because these women were at work, providing for us. I started working for them at age 13, waiting and bussing tables at the diner off of the freeway next to the gas station, then at 16 bussing and bar backing at the Italian restaurant. I learned how to work hard, how to talk to strangers, how to be responsible for myself from these women. They often took care of me by showing me how to take care of myself. I wouldn’t be who I am without them.

An article about the sisters and their family business.

Because of my void-music for me has always been a place for accessing some kind of divinity. It’s how I can disappear into myself, yet at the same time how I can feel the most connected to something bigger, to others. Songwriting started almost in spite of myself, my deeper feelings and questions aching and desperate to be heard-and in a song one can be complex, symbolic, one can be confessional, never finding answers to grief or absence. In music there is always a place, and how lucky we are to share it. How lucky we have this realm to collectively sit in the questions. I’m reminded of the music that inspired me to write my own songs, specifically my dear friend Emily aka Florist. Music that isn’t afraid to ask always makes me feel a little less isolated, up to my knees in questions.

There was a dog at the Fillmore soundcheck, and I think she liked what Pat, Tim and I were playing. Enjoy this unflattering angle of me enjoying music.

I’m writing now from tour, currently in a hotel in Sacramento, but I began writing in Healdsburg, CA- on the road with Perfume Genius. We’re at the beginning of a very busy year of travel, between PG‘s record being out, and HH gearing up to release new music very soon. We had a day off in Healdsburg and were totally spoiled with our accommodations. A large estate, rolling vineyards in wine country, a pool, sauna, flowers….the works. We cooked a big family style meal, everyone helping out in the kitchen, and I felt, as Mike calls it when we are all tapped in musically at a show, the circle. Being on tour with people creates a microcosm and I’m feeling thankful for this one, thankful for moments like these where I’m not too tired and taking things for granted. At the best of times, being on the road with people creates a little bubble where we all help each other, share meals, ask each other how they slept. I took a walk, listened to the birds, thought about writing this, recorded some walking on gravel sounds.

Big majestic Oak tree on the property that hosted us

The show in Healdsburg was small compared to some of the other shows we play in this band, but I felt the electric current from all of us being together on a small stage. I like when the crowd is close enough that we can actually feel the energy in the room. Sacramento was also a high energy show, surprising us all. We played in a seated theater and didn’t know if people were going to be mellow because of the setting, but they turned it up! And before we went on stage for the encore Mike said to us “That was fun! I felt like Molly Shannon!” and I came back on stage giggling. Tomorrow is Kilby Block Party in SLC. I’m going to try and catch label mate Youth Lagoon’s set after ours. Let me know if you were at any of these shows in the comments?

Something I enjoyed reading. Two of my favorite writers talking to each other.

Something I enjoyed listening to. Phil just plays the right notes.

New Music out produced by me (guitar bass and vocals too). I loved working with Dave and I’m excited to do more together. This song will get stuck in your head! We recorded it at Tropico Beauty, where I recorded my new record.

For the people who want to pay for more, I’m going to post one still from a music video that will come out next month. I might even post some clips from the song in the next few weeks for those of you who pay money for the special stuff. I keep my word!

As always, thanks for being here.

md

As promised… a still from a video I made with Otium, who shot, edited, colored, and directed (wowza) the Private Life video. We made 3 more for the new record! And this one is my favorite so far. I’ll definitely talk more about making them once they’re all out. But you, special investor in me, get a sneak peak first. I can’t wait for you to see them! Thank you.