The Music of Motherhood
People ask me if I miss making music now that I'm a mother. I usually respond with, "You mean, spooning with my bass player in a Best Western in Salt Lake City because there weren't enough beds for the band? Or getting on stage at 4AM in New Orleans with my sunglasses on because the sun would come up during our performance? Nah!"
Just kidding, I loved every moment, even white-knuckling the van through a blizzard to our next gig. There were some pretty extraordinary moments. I wrote music with my heroes who became mentors. Little girls would come to my shows, inspired to learn the guitar. My songs were played during people's weddings. My music touched people, it was a soundtrack to people's lives, if even a small part. I'm lucky I was able to share it. Most importantly, I loved it fiercely.
The thing is, though, I haven't stopped making music now that I'm a mom. Music just plays a different role. I hear the same hooks in Music Together songs as I did writing in studios, except with "ears and noses" in the lyrics. We sing and do sign language. I've swapped out my guitars for a ukulele. Do you know how many lullabies there are out there in the world?
I don't miss hustling for gigs in LA or even being on stage. In fact, I relish my privacy, my anonymity living in Europe, being a foreigner, speaking another language. Maybe it's just the next chapter.
When I think back to my 15 years of touring, writing, performing, recording music, I'm grateful that this little person can show me a beautiful side of something I struggled so hard to succeed at. With her, it's effortless. And the joy of creating something from nothing, creating a melody from quiet space, well, I do that every day with my daughter. For this chapter of my life, it's the best kind of music.
Photography by Kristy Walker / Studio Vérité