In one of my favorite songs of his, John Prine says, “blow up your TV, throw away your paper.” While there’s privilege in that sentiment for sure, I think it’s true that our brains did not evolve to be able to handle the never-ending consumption of events, perspectives (she says with short-sighted conviction in her new blog), and crises we can easily access today without some cost to our wellbeing. It’s hard to find that balance, isn’t it?

Two years ago, Anthony and I decided to start a band. It felt small, local, and therapeutic. We could write about our dogs and our house and our experiences here in Carroll County. It was something we could do together, and I took it as a personal challenge to learn to sing loud enough for others to hear after singing quietly to myself for 30 years. He had previously walked away from the music industry after being involved for nearly all his life, so Ties That Bind was something of a new start for him as well.

In the early days, the band felt self-indulgent to me in the best way: writing and learning instruments for no reason other than to do it, because I wanted to. There was no end goal, no test, no check-in, and no grade. There was just us and whatever we could come up with. But then, we started playing gigs and going to open mics and meeting a lot of cool people, and suddenly, there wasn’t just us. There was a community of people around us – writers, musicians, poets, and family – who encouraged us to keep at it. It felt weightier – more centered and more intentional. People came out to our shows and then came back for another. In March, we went to Eddie’s Attic (iykyk) and won the open mic competition, and we’re going back July 19th for their Bi-Annual Shootout. It took us three tries, and the first time I was so nervous I could barely sing. Now, I feel ready to go back, knowing how many people are behind us and supporting us.

There’s so much in the world we can’t change and can’t respond to in real time, but we can spend our time together, writing and creating. We can ask others to join in and sing along. We can throw our lot in with friends and family and create the balance that is so hard to find. I’ve come to view every song as a chance to put something good into the world: a hopeful sentiment, an understanding, a moment to pause or reflect on our pain while knowing we’re not alone. Making music feels radical. Forming community in a culture that centers individualism feels radical. And it feels right. And it is with that community that we move confidently into this new space as a band.

See y’all at the Shootout 🤠