I want to sit with my legs wide open and laugh so loud that the whole damn restaurant turns and looks at me.

I don't like to sit and bask in my own awards. Awards represent artistic death to me.

I'm accepting I'm not living that younger, dreamed version of myself in the big city.

I'm a songwriter who's put my childhood memories and teenage angst into songs.

But at the age of 44, I sure hope to be a better businesswoman. I want to get the music straight to my fans.

At the age of 15 months my daughter was diagnosed with very bad asthma, and essentially I put my career on hold for a good eight years.

For me music is a vehicle to bring our pain to the surface, getting it back to that humble and tender spot where, with luck, it can lose its anger and become compassion again.