TWELVE DAYS IN JUNE
Q: If you could tell us a little about “Blush”, what kind of inspiration it came from, what you were feeling, going through while writing it?
I was thinking a lot about the song “Row Row Row Your Boat,” something we’ve all been singing since the earliest stages of childhood, and wondering if it actually had a deeper meaning than it appears at the surface. As I’ve gotten older, the lyrics have started to feel more nihilistic in nature. Almost as if it were really saying that life is bookended by oblivion on either side, so you might as well enjoy the ride. “Blush” is my way of exploring that.
Q: So, there’s this echoing of things being “a dream” throughout the lyrics. That dream metaphor means what to you?
Partially because of the “Row Row Row Your Boat” influence I mentioned, and partially because I suffer from parasomnia, which is basically a combination of multiple sleep disorders. My dreams can sometimes get incredibly intense, which leaves one hell of a mark that can stick with me over the next couple of days. I sometimes have to try and calm myself down by reminding myself that it was only a dream. It didn’t really happen.
Q: How do you balance the themes of existential struggle with personal longing in “Blush”?
That’s a good question. “Blush” kind of ends up somewhere different from where it started, but I’m not entirely sure why. My songwriting process is bizarre in the sense that I don’t sit down to write lyrics with any particular topic in mind. When I listen to the music, the melody and lyrics just sort of start “singing” to me, and I write down words and lines that may not make sense to me in the moment, but once the song has been completed, only then do I start to understand what they are about. I feel like each song, in some way, is my subconscious trying to get something out.
Q: There is a striking line in the song, “a war that can’t be won.” Do you consider it as some inner battle, or is this line more connected to external pressures?
I would definitely say an inner battle. Being in the throes of endless panic is a war for me that feels at times like it can’t be won.
Q: You use the line “all we have is here and now”. Do you find it hard to live in the moment? How does that struggle come through in your music?
Yes, it’s very hard for me to live in the moment. I don’t really know why, to be honest, but I suppose it stems from a place of deep insecurity and a desire to belong. There’s no point dwelling on the past because you can’t change it, and worrying about the future only robs you of enjoying the present. So don’t, although it’s much easier said than done.. All we really have is here and now.
Q: There is a real sense of waiting for someone or something in “Blush”. What does the state of waiting mean for you, lyrically, particularly with this track?
For this song in particular, I think it goes back to your question about a sense of longing. When I was young, I felt like I connected with others more easily and that I’d built relationships that would last a lifetime, which is admittedly pretty naive. As I got older, not only did it become painfully obvious that maintaining those relationships was difficult because life happens and we all go through separate journeys, but I realized that it had also become difficult for me to forge new and meaningful relationships. Even though we change and evolve as people over time, I think that’s where nostalgia resides. Remembering a time when you felt more at peace than where you are now.
Q: The phrase “deep blue ocean eyes and black mascara” creates such a dramatic image. Is that description based on a real person, or is it more of a symbolic figure?
She is mostly a symbolic figure who represents the past and the feeling of reconnecting with an old friend, although physically, she is loosely based on a real person.
Q: How much of your songwriting process is based around things like color and scenery? Do you often write with such images in your mind?
I would say that’s something I’ve started to do more so in recent years. For a period of time in my life, I wanted to become a novelist and actually wrote a fair number of books, which taught me a lot about showing, not telling. I’ve now carried that lesson over to my songwriting and try to create more imagery to enhance the listener’s experience.
Q: It almost seemed like the whole idea of holding onto the past was somewhat of a theme in “Blush.” Do you feel like, as time progresses, it becomes more and more difficult to let go of the past?
Yeah, that’s probably a fair assessment. If you think of the song as two characters engaging with one another, they’re both hanging on to elements of their past which prevents them from moving forward. Nostalgia can truly be a double-edged sword. It can feel really good to reconnect with old friends, but it can also sometimes dredge up the bad times, too. You may find yourself apologizing for something in the past, and the other person may be wondering why you’re still hanging onto something they’ve long forgotten about. What may feel like catharsis to you can make the other person feel awkward and uncomfortable, actually pushing you further apart than where you started.
Q: There is one line that goes “your heart is much too cold to see the rain.” What does that cold mean to you, both in song, and in your life?
In that instance, the perception of coldness comes from recognizing a change in the person from who I remembered them to be. How close we once were. How we used to laugh and play in the rain without a care in the world. But after many years apart, we weren’t those people anymore. Outside of that instance, however, I think I tend to associate the cold with loneliness. It’s actually a theme that pops up a few times on the album.
Q: There’s a certain melancholy to the song, yet somehow a bit of hopefulness too-particularly in this idea of waiting for someone’s return. How do you balance the scales between hope and despair in your songwriting?
Entirely by accident, if I’m being honest. When I hear this song, I recognize elements of myself that aren’t particularly flattering. Like, thinking of the past as a life-preserver and hoping that nostalgia would pull me ashore. It’s not that I’m necessarily unhappy with the present, but I think there’s a deep-seated part of me that simply wishes things had turned out differently. That I’d made better decisions. Maybe that’s where the hope you mentioned comes from. Clinging to the notion that it’s never too late to steer the ship back on course.
Q: It feels like “Blush” is largely based around time and the passing of it. How do you relate to time as a person in your life, and with your music?
I struggle with the passing of time. It seems to somehow move faster each year while simultaneously taking me farther and farther from my goals. I just don’t believe that we were born to spend our time on Earth grinding ourselves into powder simply to make a living. Capitalism has gotten so far out of hand, yet is working exactly as designed, so it will never change. We’re bound to the machine. For a time, it felt like companies were beginning to take work-life balance seriously, but somehow we’re right back to grinding to appease our corporations, and deemed “lazy” if we don’t share our corporation’s live-to-work mentality. This is particularly difficult for creatives, because our industries are under attack, but don’t even get me started on that.
Q: Do you feel that by writing about certain elements of loss and unresolved emotions, it helps put those feelings into perspective or does it sometimes highlight them more strongly?
I always hope that my songs will find the people who need them, because that’s who I’m writing them for. I typically shy away from talking about what my songs mean to me, because ultimately, that doesn’t matter. I want my songs to resonate with listeners and allow them to feel what the songs mean to them.
Q: Would you say that “Blush” is based on a personal experience of separation, or is it more of a universal story about loss and longing?
I’d say that it’s my personal interpretation of an experience that others have also felt, and I hope that it can bring comfort to those who can relate.
Q: Are there particular artists or writers that inspire the introspective lyricism we hear in “Blush”?
I’m not sure if there are any specific examples, but I would say that Benjamin Gibbard is one of my absolute favorite songwriters. He’s exceptional at telling stories through his lyrics, so he’s a definite influence, as is Robert Smith and Morrissey for the same reasons. I think Evan Dando could also be considered an influence for me, stylistically.
Q: You touch on some pretty heavy existential themes in “Blush.” Is music more of a way of processing those bigger life questions for you, or is it more about capturing a feeling in the now?
Probably a little of both. I think each time I write a song, I’m capturing something that’s rustling around in my subconscious now, but it could easily be influenced by some of those bigger questions I’ve pondered over the years and maybe didn’t know how to write about them before. It’s also funny how sometimes your perspective can shift over time, so it can be worth revisiting a topic you’ve already covered in previous songs with fresh eyes. I definitely did that on this album.
Q: What do you hope listeners are left feeling after they’ve listened to “Blush”? Is there one emotion or message, in particular, you hope they take with them?
That they’re not alone. It’s okay to feel your feelings and be vulnerable under the right circumstances. Sometimes I fear that we agonize over our feelings because we don’t think others could ever understand. I know I’m guilty of that, but that’s exactly why I write songs. It allows me to say the things I could never say aloud.
Q: Finally, what’s next for you beyond “Blush”? Are these themes you will continue to work with, or are you looking at new directions for future projects?
I think my songwriting will always encompass some form or another of wrestling with my psyche. It manifests in a variety of unpredictable ways, but as I think about the songs I’ve written since the release of this album, there are themes of forgiveness, frustration, and continued longing. I do worry that this album may have been a bit too heavy, and people may find themselves only able to take it in small doses, which is absolutely okay. So, going forward, I may focus a little less on full albums in favor of shorter form offerings. Who knows? That may wind up being what’s best for my mental health, too.
