Why a Diary? (aka it’s not a blog) When I was fourteen I tore my diary into pieces and flushed it down the toilet. It terrified me that my most vulnerable self was documented somewhere that people could find. Years later a friend gave me The Diaries of Anais Nin, another the Journals of May Sarton. Their vulnerability wasn’t terrifying. It was a comfort and inspiration and I fell in love. I found a place where my stubborn honesty, instinctual vulnerability, and relentless analysis of myself and the world in which I make music could be an offering. I began the day my favorite classic rock station went off the air. Soon after, wildfires circled my small town, then my mother died, then my debut album was released. Joys, sorrows, madness, awe. I write about it all as a letter to you — as it is happening. You are with me always. Each juicy excerpt begins with a “Now Playing” playlist— forming a soundtrack as you read. You are invited inside of the constant, entertaining, maddening, illuminating mental dialogue of being an artist and the sounds that inspire me. Make yourself a warm beverage and sit down with me for a while. — LC