I didn’t have/know my voice until a cousin introduced me to the folky tunes of singer-songwriter Ani DiFranco. I was 20.
It started with an EP of “Joyful Girl” remixes, and next thing you know I own damn near all of her music. This white woman from Buffalo, NY, with the funny face and marginally tolerable singing voice and basic guitar skills but KILLER pen, she got me. Got into my soul. And reminded me what English teachers had been telling me all my life: Raquel + words = true love.
I am desperate to get back into a head-space where nothing matters but the stories I’m bursting with. This desperation pointed out that, back when I first ended my marriage and began blogging full time, I used to write best to [what is now] a 25+ hour playlist of Ani’s music. And that I used to create soundtracks for my stories*. And that I found the kind of peace in music that was lacking everywhere else in life.
And if I’m going to barrel forward with my craft, it’s
probably definitely wise to go back to the beginning.
So go ahead
Make your next bold move
What’s the next thing you’re gonna need to prove
*The story associated with the Three Seconds playlist can be found in the 2016 New Voices Anthology.