Isn't that the goal, as you grow older? That you start reclaiming those parts of yourself you didn't recognize or didn't think were there all along? That's what happened when I made The River and the Thread record.

While visiting places in the South with my heart really open, I realized how important people in certain geographical spots were to me, what they symbolize, how I'm still connected to them and how much they are a part of my ancestry, both musical and real.

I have learned to be steady in my course of love, or fear, or loneliness, rather than impulsive in its wasting, either lyrically or emotionally.

If you're playing in a tradition and you have no reference point to it, no understanding and have not studied it, I can't respect that.

The ephemeral nature of live performance is the part I love most - it's a monk's sand painting, carefully constructed, then wiped away in an instant.

It's a little dangerous for me to get outside myself and think about how I want people to see me.

Being in the studio is like painting, you know, you can really take your time, and try different things, and kind of go deep into it.