Welcomed to Cartinglee. I am grateful that you're here.
I don't fully understand what my vision is with these letters, not yet. I think it will reveal itself over time as long as I keep showing up to the practice of writing them. If you've known me as your teacher, you know that over the years I learned to co-create with my students a little haven, a shelter from the chaos (which means of course that we acknowledge the chaos) in my tiny French classroom. I have a growing sense that the freedom and spirit of that space is waning, as my power to protect it diminishes. Even if my time there is still long, it's losing something special. I can't simply let that energy slip away. I want to transform it somehow, liberate it to stretch out beyond the cinderblock boundaries of 213. So I suppose this letter is an invitation to engage that energy yourself, to experience artistic relationship and community in whatever small way feels joyful and good. These letters will be vulnerable and honest, but I write how I write, so sometimes they may be stories, songs, or poems. Sometimes they may be updates on shows or invitations to read/listen to conversations/content where I've been privileged to contribute.
For me, Cartinglee is more of a place than a person or an artist. Cartinglee represents room to feel safe, a place I go to heal, create, and rest. Sometimes that means inviting heavy shadows and brilliant joys to all show up at the same table, which is why my music is increasingly eclectic and nuanced. When I think of Cartinglee I picture a forest floor with a nearby river, somewhere deep in Appalachia beneath the shadow of green mountains and wrapped in a heavy blanket of mist. In reality, it's an artistic space where I imagine and express with abandon. I hope that my own vulnerability and creative energy extends an invitation for you to join me here, and show up as exactly who you are on any given day.
I would absolutely love for you to write letters back to me. You can reach me via the contact form on my website. Sometimes I hope to share various creative projects with many of you, if you're up for it. If I could I would gladly spend my days deep in discussion with any one of you, listening to the way your soul pours out to meet someone who will see you. But for now, I will write you letters.
I believe that art is most powerful when we offer it up straight from our deepest center, craft it with adoration and lavish it with our gracious attention. When we lovingly fine tune each detail, encourage growth, and allow time to smooth rough edges. Then, when the moment is right, we must release our art entirely, offering it up with love that has no expectation.
I do have hope though, and this is what I hope for: that when you hear my voice or read my words, you recognize something in yourself both familiar and new. That I would help you wake up hidden parts of you, that you would grow aware of spaces you can offer yourself more love. And that through these gentle movements, a thread would extend through the chaos and connect us in simple, universal understanding. We belong, both of us, all of us, in the deepest and fullest expressions of ourselves, everyone of us a necessary star, every one of us magic dust.
This is the spirit with which I am sending you my songs. If you joined my mailing list, you can download Star/Dust, the first single off my new project, for free. You can also purchase a download from my website or from Bandcamp - you can decide how you'd like to reciprocate when you experience my art. Funds given here will help me build this project, and I'm grateful for any way you choose to participate. Star/Dust will be available for streaming from all the places on November 11, 2021.