The beginning of Midnight Daughter was a vision — nothing more, nothing less.
Every so often you look so hard for your destiny that it comes and smacks you in the face.
For me, it was a vision.
Spirits, ancestors. Drum beats, a white horse, a song.
And the message I needed to pursue music.
I'm sure there are many (perhaps much more sensible) people who could have such a vision and ignore it, but...
I wasn't one of them.
So I didn't.
Instead, I called up a violinist and told him I wanted to put together a rock band and play stadiums.
You know. As one does.
I put a new band together.
More heartbreaks happened.
Homelessness happened, job loss, eviction notices, breakups, and multiple city changes happened.
I landed in Austin, Texas and almost gave up.
But I couldn't.
At night, melodies whispered to me and begged me to exist.
When I sang, I felt the edges of reality shake and ripple.
I couldn't give up.
I could only put together a rock band and play stadiums.