To Georgia, with Love

Here I am in Atlanta, Georgia. Day 4 1/2.

Monday I went to Eddie's Attic and I got to see the Indigo Girls play 2 sets on the patio. There was no better way to begin my time in Georgia. Many people associate this state with peaches. I associate it with Savannah. Love. Decatur. Eddie's Attic. And the Indigo Girls. There's something about their music that takes me back to the first time I fell in love, the whirlwind of it, and the complexity of it. And I feel as though a number of their songs belong on the soundtrack of my life. To hear them play Ghost, Romeo & Juliet, Kid Fears, Three County Highway, Shame on You all in one night--it was like taking a trip down memory lane and I genuinely loved every minute of it. Listening to them sparked a new and pretty meaty thought. I turned to my friend Christina and said, "I love how they love. I honestly believe that it's only through loving as intensely as they do that they are capable of writing and expressing music as good and as intense." She nodded and smiled. She understood. It doesn't take a singer-songwriter to get this--it just takes an individual with the capacity to feel love and feel hurt and not run from these feelings.

Suddenly I was realizing something about myself while recognizing this in them. For years, I've had friends and family tell me I let myself get too consumed with love. I believe it's a protective reaction when they see me light up about someone. Because when someone can become so lit up about someone else, they can also become that broken-hearted if things don't go well. And I get this. Lordy, do I get this. But without becoming so lit up about the possibility of love, without letting my heart get so wrapped up in loving another person, there would be no songs. There would be no Dirty Blonde. There would be no Karma. There would be no Damn Angels. There would be no Swan Song. There would be no Doot Do Song. There would be no Try. There would be no Lullabye. Essentially there would be no songs, because LOVE is my inspiration for music. It's what compels the melodies to surprise me in the shower, it's what compels the lyrics to stir while I'm in my car driving. Sure, I could write about other things like politics, or goats, or coffee. But I write about love because that's what I do best. And I'm hopeful that I will know and experience love again. That I will be lit up again. And maybe, just maybe it will work itself out so that my family and friends can rejoice and not worry too much about me. I finally feel enough love within my life to not lose myself over the loss of one love. Because I have learned that loss can lead to gain if you play your cards right.

So thank you, Georgia. You continue to faithfully support and nurture the love I have within me.