Slow Leaves

I write songs primarily about the vulnerability of being a human. I don’t write sad songs; I write lonely songs. To be here is to be lonely. We’re so desperate to belong, desperate to know love, even in its most deceptive forms. I think people make art to feel less lonely. I do. I’ve somehow made a career of self-perceived failure. I’ve often reflected on whether that mindset fulfills its own prophecy: quite possibly. But I think at heart, I’m not seeking greatness, at least not outside my own little world. Or maybe I’ve simply given up on previously misplaced ambitions. My ambition now is a life of greatness in small spaces, a private fame in close quarters, a life so intimate it need only whisper its declarations of love and victory. That will be my success. When there’s not enough of one dream to go around, you choose another.