i t s . t h e . l i t t l e . t h i n g s . a n d . t a c o s
I’m literally sitting in the back of the bar at the Knitting Factory as I type this. Crying my eyes out…
Josh Radin is on stage talking about driving convertibles around Malibu, new albums and singing his heart out. The audience is the most amazing. Spellbound, silent, attentive… They are an artists dream. This tour is my dream. These people come to listen and that is the nicest thing ever.
I played my set, and came out to the merch table, as I always do, as long as my voice is feeling good. I met a whole lovely bunch of people. Josh started his set, and out of respect, I generally don’t sign or take pictures during another artists set.
But as I stand there, this girl comes up to me out of nowhere. She is young, she is shy. She looks vulnerable. I’m behind the merch table and she says, ‘So…What should I buy?’ I say, ‘Well that depends. Do you want something you can listen to? Or something you can wear?’ She says, ‘I have to tell you something… I was engaged and my fiancé just broke up with me. I’ve been in the same bar for the last 8 nights. And tonight I wandered in here cause I needed to get myself out of the bar. I’ve never heard you or Josh’s music before.’ I lose it.
The story, it is my own. It never doesn’t resonate. Its heartbreak. And to be in front of someone as they muster up the courage to share these words with a complete stranger, I just lose it. In the rawness of something, the newness, the minute you say it aloud, the minute it all becomes real.
I see myself in her. And, Oh…the things I want to tell her. It reminds me of the journey I’ve been on. And I know that she will be ok. And I know deep down she knows that, even though she doesn’t know that she knows that yet. And I just want to hug her a million times. And sit with her and have coffee or a lot of whiskey. And discuss. Cause us girls, we like to discuss. And we must stick together. us girls must stick together.
I don’t tell her to ‘feel better’ or anything like that. I simple say, ’ keep going…’ and I give her my email. We are both crying. And what I really want to do is give her my new record. I can’t believe she wandered into the Knitting Factory of all places, on a Sunday night. I tell her it’s all meant to be. And I tell her to love and feel and scream and not resist anything that comes up.
I tell her to remember her beauty, and her strength. And I tell her to go get this book im reading, called ‘Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed. I tell her she will not be able to put it down.
This is why I do what I do.
I am so grateful for these moments. Snot and all, im gonna need a Kleenex sponsorship.