There have been many think-pieces on how we've all been subject to a sort of time distortion as a result of COVID and the collective trauma we all faced. 

I am no exception. 

Since 2021, the short story is that I got diagnosed as neurodivergent (in hindsight, duh), my husband quit his day job, and together we scrambled for a new means of survival amidst shared burnout. Through a bizarre, farcical series of events, calculated risks, epic fuck-ups, and ridiculous luck, we have now built our own business. 

I quit my day job in 2023, and am now a recovering cubicle zombie. The millennial grey office is always there, a growling chasm, that I could slip back into at any time. But I never want to work for anyone else ever again.

Quietly, slowly, I'm trying to reassemble the pieces of an album half-finished. Reached back out to Peter. Taking a class at Berklee on music production in between candle pours, cashflow analysis, and inventory management. Trying to reconnect with why the fuck I did any of this in the first place. 

Meanwhile, a geriatric lunatic threatens the world order. Several songs I had in process seem prescient. Adapt feels prescient. Hopefully these are the death throes. So let's brace ourselves, put in the work, and hope for a better life on the other side. 

Been quiet for a while. A long while.

2020 was going to be the year I busted out my second album.  Had a game plan and everything. I remember sending P a note in January titled “Weather 2020 - Let’s do this!”

I don’t create songs for fun, but to express angst, frustration, doubt or pain. It’s how I’ve processed the world since I was 12.  I rely on the tidy format of a song to package and distill my visceral reaction to unpleasant events in my life.  With my first release, I hoped in some small way to help others currently struggling through similar situations process how they feel.  

We squeaked in a few sessions in 2020 before the world started melting down then abruptly froze in stasis. Singing and coproducing songs are not activities conducive to zoom. Tried one in person session in the summer for a very specific song (cover for a potential sync submission) which required extra planning and safety precautions. But despite this glimmer of progress, I just could not continue.

While most of my new songs are just as vitriolic and cathartic as those on Cubicle Zombie, dealing with death, sexism, politics, relationships… these struggles seem trivial given what we’ve all just been through. Right now they feel like dropped coins, relics from a bygone era, frozen in a thick layer of ice.  As the world starts to thaw, I don’t know if I’ll recover them.  

I've taken a long break from social media over the past few months.  Uninstalled Twitter and Facebook from my phone.  I was emotionally drained after the chaos at the end of last year.  Couple that with major surgery for my mother (and the looming possibility of losing my other parent), and I needed to conserve my emotional resources this spring.     

It's been refreshing and healthy for me, but counterproductive for the music.  My streams have dropped off.  I haven't connected with my fans.  I squandered opportunities from the attention I received at release.  Kicking myself.  But my mental health was the priority.   

Peter and I are taking a studio break this summer due to conflicting schedules.   I'm torn between promoting Cubicle Zombie / finding my fans, or focusing on the album in process (which is about 35% complete).   I'd rather do the latter (comfortable! songwriting! art!) versus the former (new and scary! awkward self-promotion! stupid fucking branding and buzzwords!).  

At some point, I'll see you back on social media.  

I cannot recommend this podcast enough.  I'm an Aimee Mann fan ('Til Tuesday's Everything's Different Now album will be forever burned into my brain), so I was intrigued when I saw it pop up on Twitter a while back.  I'm not much of a podcast person, as I prefer to spend my commutes/workouts listening to music or practicing my own.  But as the name implies, The Art of Process is about the creative process.  Creativity is not just this mythical lightning bolt.  It's a combination of practice, observation and pattern recognition.  It's fears and channeling those fears.  It's working through the doubt and trusting in the process itself.  It's been fascinating to hear how some of these patterns transcend the medium (she and Ted Leo have interviewed comedians, musicians, physical artists and even critics), but I've taken lessons from every one of these podcasts.

Listen!  Seriously!  

I posted this on social media, but feel the need to include this here as well.

6 months ago today, Cubicle Zombie was released into the wild. Last night, I spent a few hours hand-writing thank you cards to the radio stations that have supported & spun the album....but I ran out of cards about halfway through my list!  Until I really sat down to go through this exercise, I didn’t realize how much support this debut EP from a totally unknown artist has received. 

Have I been too focused on the new album, or too distracted by streams? Too often we get caught up in the numbers and lose sight of the humans behind them. 

For anyone I miss (or who gets a card a little late), THANK YOU for supporting independent music!