One of my favorite fan questions I’ve ever gotten was: “How do you go from singing plain to suddenly sounding like you’ve got an accent? And how on earth did you rhyme ‘point’ with ‘restaurant’?” It made me laugh, but it also made me realize how much of myself is woven into little details like that.
I was born in Tennessee, and my dad moved us back and forth between Tennessee and Georgia until I was about nine years old. Then we picked up and headed west to Arizona, and that’s where I’ve been ever since — right here in Scottsdale. But my heartstrings were pulled the most when I was younger, spending time with my Mawmaw. She grew up in McClellanville, South Carolina, around the sound of Gullah Geechee voices. I remember just listening to her, soaking up her way of speaking, the music in her words. She’d pronounce “restaurant” in this way that somehow matched “point.” It stuck with me. When I put it in a song, it wasn’t just clever rhyming — it was my way of keeping her close, like a little love letter to her memory.
Music has always been there for me. I don’t really remember a time when I wasn’t singing. Country is home base for me — it’s the soil I grew up out of — but I’ve always been drawn to the ache of the blues and the raw energy of rock, too. I like to think what I make now is a blend of all those roads I’ve traveled, and all the voices I’ve carried with me.
Thanks to Luna Records, I finally had the chance to take these songs that lived in my notebooks and in my head and turn them into something real. Recording them felt like pulling pieces of my life together and setting them free. My hope is that when you listen, you hear a little bit of your own story in mine — the places you’ve been, the people you’ve loved, the parts of yourself you’re still figuring out.
At the end of the day, I just want these songs to feel like a conversation between old friends — the kind that lingers with you long after you’ve said goodbye.