Today is the kind of day

When all that’s left to say, is oh well

Oh well, anyway

Come sit down, breath and sigh

It might be hard, you don’t want to cry

But if you let go and breath again

You’ll know this is not the end

The wind, the wind blows me around

I can’t seem to stand up or sit down

My hair is all over in my face

I’m running, I’m running, I’m running

I’m running, I’m running, I’m running

And I can’t win the race

Oh well, anyway

I wrote this song back in 2003, but it’s relevance keeps surprising me over and over again. Just when you think life is gonna be okay, another challenge, another storm, another slap to the face. All in the name of keeping you humble, right? And also, how come it always feels like it’s the last time?

This thing about getting caught up in the race, letting ourselves get entangled in comparison and competition and being the best and current and all caught up with WHATEVER is a total sham. We really badly need to sit down and breath and find our own center. I can’t help but wonder if that’s why God gave us a little covid kick in the butt.

Find out what’s really important to you, and be there. Don’t be where people tell you to be, be where your absolute heart of hearts tells you to do. It’s okay to disappoint people and retract from their expectations. In fact, it’s completely necessary for you do this. Your self worth and dignity are only useful if they’re intact.

Also, this song may seem like I don’t support a good cry every now and then. On the contrary, this song is validating that sometimes we become so caught up running around that crying feels impossibly inconvenient. That sucks, and it’s not healthy. You have to cry sometimes. To release the fumes, let that stuff outta there. Otherwise it stays and grows and becomes loud and fussy and toxic. We may try to make quiet with numbing addictions, but it will just continue to grow.

Why not just let it go?

Let go of feeling like you can’t feel. Let go feeling like you have to be perfect. Let go of trying to measure up to measurments that aren’t yours. Let go and find yourself.

Sit down, breath and sigh

This album encompasses the pain from my childhood, never intending to paint a rosy picture. The sentiment behind Unpainting Roses is about the meticulous effort required to remove red paint (secrets, lies, and unrealistic expectations) from delicate rose petals. The roses representing my heart.

The queen sees a plain white roses as weak, so she tries to cover it up. However, it was the heavy, synthetic red paint that made them weak. Reducing their ability to grow, breath, and pollinate, not to mention their deadened fragrance and glow. We all battle with these suffocating expectations. Whether from a parent, our culture, or our own imagination we all battle our inner Queen of Hearts. Our goal is to be like the Alice I imagine, who willfully disobeys the orders and even gets friends to help her carefully remove all the paint from these once pure roses.

Many of the songs are abstract letters to myself. I’m the girl who “Sits Alone”, “Your Jail” is actually my jail, and those dark blue “Studio Eyes” are mine (even though my eyes are sorta yellow). Unveiled in the fresh air, the power of the dark vanishes. What a relief, and also magic.

Writing and releasing this album felt like a true release. The resolve I felt afterward created a whole new flood of songs. This time they were humming tunes of light and love. My hope is that the new songs will heal hearts in the same way they have healed mine.

As you listen to Unpainting Roses, consider it a dusty letter from the past, and look forward to the fresh morning rays of a Saturday Sunrise.