Anything I do has to be directly related to my music. If it isn't, I don't really see a point to it.

I notice that when I feel the most disconnected, once I'm done blaming the moon and everything else, I can see that I am so mired in identification with form and ego and story and identity, and that if I want to, I can read some scripture or read some spiritual book or pray or meditate or sit in the sun or hang around the birds and the dogs, and get a real objective sense of what's really going on here. That usually softens things.

It's not hard to feel afraid and insecure. I still fight an inner-critic voice, definitely. I hear it a lot.

Freedom lies at the heart of my willingness to lose everything

Europe seems a little softer, but in America it's harsh. In L.A., where I live, it's all about perfectionism.

I'm quite obsessed with the idea of nailing the girl friendship. It's such an art, so delicate.

When I'm off the road, my husband and I recharge our batteries. It's a day of deep rest and connection with the spiritual, and that can be anything - going for a walk in nature, being in silence, burning incense.