There is something reassuring about the waltz of a field of goldenrod in the late summer - the bees and the breeze and the slow mirage of time like heat rising off a curving road winding high into the mountains. A feeling that the moment might be capturable, maintainable, fixed in a golden memory. The in-between moments in the seasons are my

There is something reassuring about the waltz of a field of goldenrod in the late summer - the bees and the breeze and the slow mirage of time like heat rising off a curving road winding high into the mountains. A feeling that the moment might be capturable, maintainable, fixed in a golden memory. The in-between moments in the seasons are my favorites. When the blinding heat of summer is fighting the giving way to gusty autumn evenings and bright crisp mornings. As much as I enjoy the tension of those moments in nature, I am less of a fan of it in my own life. Change - even chosen, planned for change - is incredibly difficult for me. My fears always seem to center on “what else is going to change in my life if I go through with this? Who and what might I lose?”. Moving through change and fear and continuing to find stability inside those moments feels key to me. “Goldenrod” holds both certitude and utter fear in the same broad armed embrace.

We are all made up of past selves - ghosts that either haunt us or hold our hand as we walk forward into the next set of memories. Some we love and are proud of and some we want to trim out and pretend they aren’t part of our stories. It’s a balancing act that I will be practicing for the rest of my life - loving and letting go of deep hurts and

We are all made up of past selves - ghosts that either haunt us or hold our hand as we walk forward into the next set of memories. Some we love and are proud of and some we want to trim out and pretend they aren’t part of our stories. It’s a balancing act that I will be practicing for the rest of my life - loving and letting go of deep hurts and fears. Ghosts always carry these dark connotations. And those nebulous imprints of memories and events can definitely weigh on a person for a long, long time. It takes a lot of courage to stop trying to shore up every little crack to keep them out and instead open the door, reach out a hand, and let the story shift and settle so that it can be carried in a different way. There is so much “new” information to process every day and sometimes it feels easier to pretend that a past story only lives there - in the past. I’ve learned for myself that those stories can become particularly chatty in the present too when I don’t give them the air time they need. Cold Wind is a journey from allowing ghosts to hold me apart from others to integrating everything that makes me who I am and leaning into love.

Cold Wind is a journey that will never end. A balancing act between living in the present and safely reabsorbing and processing past events, memories, and moments that are stuck and leave both stagnancy and panic. Warming musically from beginning to end, Cold Wind is a reminder that change and integration can happen. Steel guitar from Past collaborator Roger Gustafsson compliments slow and thoughtful cello from GRAMMY nominated Dave Eggar and breathing guitar from GRAMMY nominated Phil Faconti.