Wendy picked me up at “The Other Place” coffee shop in North Boulder. It was grey but not raining and I’d done an hour’s worth of vocal exercises, taken 2 Sudafed, a hit of “Singer’s Saving Grace” throat spray and drank almost a gallon of water before our meeting. I wanted to be prepared to sing well.
She joined me in my little purple Rav and we listened to my newest songs on the tape deck. Usually, I tense up listening to myself but with Wendy it’s different. She soothes my nerves. She was excited by the songs and said she wanted to produce the demo herself if I’d let her.
I was so honored and excited. I grew up distrusting women’s intentions but here. In the mountains, on the way to my first professional solo recording session, I felt embraced by this muse, this goddess of a woman who believed in me. Who believes in my music. I was nervous about recording my songs. To birth them into something solid… a CD that will encase them for eternity like a tomb. But when I opened my mouth to the microphone…. It was a relief.