I'm being explicit about really horrifying experiences in my life, but my hope has always been to be responsible as an artist and to avoid indulging in my misery, or to come off as an exhibitionist. I don't want to make the listener complicit in my vulnerable prose poem of depression, I just want to honor the experience. I'm not the victim here, and I'm not seeking other peoples' sympathy. I don't blame my parents, they did the best they could.

I think of the saddest thing I can and then add a sick dog to that. If I think of a sick dog from the beginning, I just stop there.

I've been working a lot on figuring out how to sing differently and better. I want to become a better singer. I want to sing out more. I want to me more extroverted, vocally.

I’ve never known a man who loved me.

Love is unconditional and incomprehensible. And I believe it's possible to love absent of mutual respect.

Growing up on the border there, we were always frustrated with people's pronunciations of towns in Michigan, and people mispronouncing Illinois. There are all these Native American words that no one really knows how to pronounce.

Life is all about toiling and labor. But obviously I get great joy in confronting challenge and taking risk.