24 minutes

the low hum of dryers. I am here, pajama fabulous, watching the time tick by. I feel the warmth of the day pulling my attention away from the stench of laundry detergent and fabric softener. I sit inside the walls of this establishment hoping I can write something. I wait the 24 minutes it takes to clean the week out of my clothes as a heaviness sits right in the centre of my sternum like a shotput ball balancing there to slow my breath. How can I feel this when there is sun on my back, love in my house, blossoms on the trees, and music being made? Why do I question my existence so constantly when I should just be living it. connect the dots. do something to feel different. maybe I will today. maybe I will tomorrow 

the quiet here

I feel as if my mind were caving in on itself

the quiet here

I am alone and colder than yesterday

it is not dark, but spacious and full of choices

this alone causes the compression

and my mind to act out 

pull focus

come in

look inside

in there are castles and clouds 

and flowers to pick

their aromas feel so far away right now

and I can’t 

I can’t understand what I want to hide

why I look away from the source

and how I let days go by as I sit still


The floor lamp is steady, so why do I falter?

it brings light to the room

and yet I don’t

I feel like I need an instruction manual

to know how to turn it on

and someone to stand outside the door 

checking on me

making sure I don’t get distracted

I want this writing to feel good to feel easy

but the glue that covers the floor of my mind is thick

and in it, I get stuck

and I push through and every so often it breaks

I feel some freedom

say what is really happening

and then I go back

into the hold 

my hands feel weak and kind of crampy

and my legs don’t move like they used to

so I stay still

hoping oneway I will learn to jump again

jump at chances

jump out of bed


Girl Power: Women in the Music Industry Conference

Today, I attended the Girl Power: Women in the Music Industry conference. As a woman working in the music industry, I walked away feeling a sense of empowerment and possibility. I also felt a little bit overwhelmed by all the things that I learned, but I take that overwhelm as a gift and now all I have to do is sift through and see what I can do right now to move toward my goals.  

Currently, I wear many hats within the industry. I straddle the creative artist side, the production side, and the record executive side. I am a singer-songwriter and vocalist, performing and creating my own music and music in collaboration with others. For my day job, I work as the production manager for the Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir. And in yet another life (oh wait—it is actually just this life), I work as the creative executive for Waxsimile Productions, a new record company started by my awesome father, Tim Boyle. I also teach vocal lessons and workshops, and work as an executive assistant. Phew!

With all of these roles, I struggle to find focus—to find balance. I find I spend most of my time working and very rarely really get to write. In fact, I just had to book myself four days alone in the woods to be able to find time to focus on my writing! No phone, no internet, just me and my guitar and any creative impulses that come for four whole days. It will be heavenly. Or really hard...or probably both. 

But I digress...

I guess I am left with this question: what is the next small action I can take toward creating what I want my life to be? I am an artist. I am a singer. I am a songwriter. I am a manager. Because of all of the different work I have done, I possess many skills and now I am really ready to take a look inside and figure out what I really need to say in this lifetime. With all that is going on in the world, I feel we artists are called upon to stand up, make our art, create something new, and foster understanding and love. 

Here is my artist commitment for the week: I will play my guitar every day, and write my morning pages. I will update and share my SoundCloud. I will research preamps for my guitar. But most of all, I am going to attempt to treat my artist like she deserves to be heard and to know that every day comes with a chance to do something toward making my art. 

outskirts of my skin

Today I sit

still in the outskirts of my skin

With each moment that passes, I feel it coming loose

as my mind threatens to leave the room

the deeper part holds tight

stories I create to make my escape

quieted by the sounds from people surrounding me

I sit and sit and wait for the miracle to happen

Today it came a little closer

I, a little bit stronger than yesterday, am starting to see it

I look deep into the day ahead, into time, into the future

just when it is all too much, I am reminded that now is the time

now is the moment that I have been waiting for

without this moment there can be nothing else

there can be no yesterday or tomorrow

no kisses, no kind words, no pain, no loving glance

no smile flashed from across the room

only absence

In isolation, the mind withstands very little

There must be padding to catch the inevitable fall

today, that is why I sit

that is why I hold on for dear life to the moments that pass in the room

sun blinding me as it reflects off the wood floor

I close my eyes

as if somthing told me to look inside

to feel my skin from there

and to know that I am held

that this day is as it should be

that when I want to run, I should sit

when I want to shut down, I should shut up and listen

it forces me into presence

forces me into breath

guides me into stillness

leaves me with right now

So, today, I sit

Today, I wander to the outskirts of my skin

and am gently pushed back to center

to the place where me feet hit the earth like the trunk of a tree

my roots begin to take hold

I stand straight

head up

One step at a time

Taking only a moment

To gaze in