Blood, Sweat, and Makeup Remover

I’ve created a ton of stories this past year and I’m finally ready to share them. “Blood, Sweat, and Makeup Remover” is a spoken word piece exploring my relationship with makeup and, more specifically, curating self in a world that doesn’t feel safe.

Last new song for a while…

I’ve been pacing my living room for the past hour trying to psyche myself up to share this song. It’s probably going to be the last new material I share for a while because I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for since finishing my last EP. I’ve been looking for something new, some idea/theme/feeling that can carry a project and I think I found out. Sucks for you because it’s not going to see the light of day for a loooong time, great for me because I get to fall in love with a project all over again. I can have my own personal, private baby that no one has to see or hear until it’s completely finished. When it’s done, I promise I’ll let you hear it but until then I’ll be savoring this selfish, territorial time. In the meantime, you can listen to my (last) new song:

Underwater Video!

I’m not sure if y’all noticed, but I threw up (as in posted not upchucked) a video for “Slipstream” a few days ago. I tried shooting visuals for this song 3 different times and finally figured it out on the 3rd try. Watch it and let me know what you think!

Also, not to be a complete tease, but I recorded a couple songs the other day in a 90+ degree garage. With no fan. The garage part sucked, but I’ve been listening to the rough mixes and I’m freaking out over one of the songs. It’s pretty long (I’m repulsively pretentious – we all know it) BUT DAYUM IT’S GOOD. You’ll like it. Maybe. Well, I’ll share it soon and you can make up your own mind. Until then…love ya, tater tots!


24 Hours Later

This was my story at 11 when a family friend held me down and pushed himself against me. I choked on the smell of pot his hands left on my dress, which leaves me 8 years later unable to spend much time around pot smokers. This was my story at 14 with a boy on the football team, four years older than me, who after using my body called me a dirty slut who deserved to be fucked to death. Which leaves me 5 years later afraid to be in a car alone with a man. This was my story at 17 when I went to a party and drank more than I ever have before, and the next morning couldn’t understand my body felt different. Bruised. Which leaves me 2 years later having a difficult time feeling anything at all when I try to have sex.

This was my story on Monday night but this time it didn’t end the same – thanks to all of you. This time it’s not my secret. I still am left with even more baggage to work through to ever have a healthy sexuality, having to cope with debilitating anxiety that makes me vomit before going to parties, a desire to die that creeps in most nights, the feeling that my body isn’t my own, and the ever-present, gnawing fear that no matter how funny I am or smart or beautiful or skinny or talented, that I’m still just a dirty slut who deserved to be fucked to death. That pain is still there, and I’m not sure it will ever go away, but this time I don’t have to carry it alone. Thank you.

The support I’ve received in the past 24+ hours has been humbling and astounding and, frankly, overwhelming. When I made the original post, I had no idea what to expect. I asked for help and you’ve done me proud. I think I’ve received more emails in the past day than I have in the past couple years combined, so if I don’t get back, please don’t assume I haven’t read it or worse: don’t care. I care more than I can put into words and I wish I knew the best way to respond to each person. Due to the sensitive nature of so many of the emails, I really am not sure how to write back, other than to say thank you for sharing your story and offering support. A couple points that have come up multiple times that I think are important enough to warrant a response:

  • “Why don’t you contact the police?” I have no interest in engaging with an establishment that’s built on protecting white male wealth. The police are here to uphold a certain social structure that I disagree with on a basic core level. This is an article that explains the origins and problems of our police better than I ever could, if you’re interested in checking it out: And for what? So that TJ Edson gets a slap on the wrist? Remember: the judicial system that is currently in place wasn’t built for me. In my dream world, we would have a vibrant community that works to protect and serve each member. Compared to that dream, I feel like justice has been served (thanks to all of you).
  • To the countless interview requests: I have no interest in engaging with an establishment that’s built on sensationalizing trauma. I feel no need to elaborate.

The last thing that I’d like to respond to is all the hate directed at Edson. I’ve received endless emails from people telling me that “men like TJ deserve to be destroyed,” “burnt alive,” “raped” to “know what it feels like.” Shame on you. TJ is a man who’s lost the essence of what being a man means. His sense of self-worth and personal empowerment has already been destroyed. His suffering must be phenomenal. He is a man that needs to heal, to be taken care of, not a man that deserves punishment and social isolation. Have we learned nothing in all the hundreds of thousands of years of existing together on earth? Fear and destruction rarely lead to growth. We do a very poor job of taking care of one another. Let’s change that so more TJ’s aren’t created. We have to take responsibility for the world we create: a rapist isn’t created in a vacuum. A rapist is created when an individual suffers trauma and isolation and isn’t given the tools to cope.

Revenge doesn’t have a place in this conversation.

Out of the Blue is NOT a safe space

I had a pretty disturbing and horrible time last night. I played at Out of the Blue, Too in Cambridge and after the show was sexually attacked by the manager, TJ Edson. He came in for a hug and wouldn’t let go, even after I told him to stop touching me. He pressed me up against the wall and started feeling me up and kissing me, while saying disgusting things in my ear. I literally shoved him off of me with all my might and ran to the bathroom where I had a severe panic attack. I can’t put into words how scared I was to leave the bathroom. I was all alone. I finally built up the courage to leave and quickly grabbed my guitars. TJ Edson started to follow me out but (thank god) stopped after I told him very strongly to get away from me.

I need your help. I don’t have social media. All I have is my website and my mailing list. I’m asking you to please share my story and tell other people that Out of the Blue is not a safe space. This isn’t about me getting justice or revenge; I’m terrified that this could happen again to another young, vulnerable artist. And, make no mistake – this was not a sexual act. This was a display of masculine violence as a form of silencing feminine power. Please help prevent this from happening again and spread the word on your Facebook or even tell your friends. Just please, please talk about this. I don’t want this to be forgotten.

In solidarity,


I’m playing music in the flesh!

In one week, I’m playing a show in Cambridge at Out of the Blue Too. I have SUCH a good set list planned. Also, can I just say, that after spending the last 3 years basically begging anybody that I could find to play a show, how strange it is to log in to my email to find someone asking ME to play?! Can’t even put it in to words, so I shain’t try. See you in Cambridge, my little honey bears!

Monday, 27 June 2016
Out of the Blue Too
541 Massachusetts Avenue
Cambridge MA, 02139

Drop everything and listen to this. Your reality is about to be altered.


Bro. Dude. This shit is real. This is the proudest I’ve ever been over a song of mine. I’m so, so happy with it. I’m trying to think of witty things to say and there’s just nothing coming to mind. Obviously. Anyway, my little honeydukes, I hope you like it as much as my Mom does. BTDubs, you can read the lyrics here, if that’s your thang.

Oh, and don’t forget about the show on Saturday! It’s going to be a spiritual experience unlike any other.

Show on the 28th: be there or be deleted from my life.

I’ve been sitting on this info for a wee bit, but no longer shall I withhold the glorious news: I’m playing a show on the 28th in Portland! I’m peeing myself I’m so excited. I’ll probably treat the audience like guinea pigs and debut a ton of new songs. So if you support animal testing, come to the show! It’s starts at 8p and will be at Strange Maine. Check out everyone else who’s playing:

Just to spice up the post, I’ll leave you with a fact of the day: “The thumb is the short, thick first digit of the human hand.” (Oxford Dictionary) Just in case you forgot. See you on the 28th, my princesses!


I’m so excited to share with you new material! I haven’t released anything totally new since this fall. -drum roll- Watch here:

I bought a beautiful tripod and the next day dragged it, and my camera, over to this abandoned warehouse. I was super jumpy because I think there’s this law that says you can get shot at if you trespass private property. The reason why I risked getting murdered is because after I recorded the spoken word part, I immediately knew I needed something industrial; something recognizable on the verge of decay with an image of life/fertility struggling against it. Enough with the pretentious chitter chatter! Go watch it 4 more times and share it with all your friends.

“Will It Away” live video!

It’s been so long, my little biscuits of desire. And, trust me, every day apart was a day spent in eternal torture. Fret no longer! (Get it? Fret? Because I play guitar? Hahaha.) So yesterday I went to this gorgeous church with acoustics that made my ears curl up and sob over the sheer perfection and shot a video of me playing an oldie but a goldie – “Will It Away.” It was on my first EP and it’s one of my favorite songs to play live. Playing it feels like when you were a kid getting into a really hot bath. You get in and you’re like, “Damn, my mom is crazy! Why did she make it this hot? My legs are being boiled al dente!” But then it starts feeling good and you’re like, BRING ON THE BUBBLES! So… uncomfortable, but then soothing bubbles. I’m not sure where I was going with this, but that’s how it feels to play this song. OH, and I edited this video all by myself! I’m so proud! I only hyperventilated four times! SCORE!