It’s All About the Pants.

One snowy December night back in Vermont, my daughters created real magic. They transformed a pair of white painter’s pants - the ones you get at the paint store - into a fabulous surprise. These have been my favorite, affordable, go-to type of pants since I was a teenager.  My kids knew this, and also that I have always had a passion for music, and for the moon, and everything in the sky.

So they carved out printing blocks by hand, and printed guitars and moons all over the old painter’s pants.

Let me explain.

I started playing guitar and piano in earnest when I was seven, sounding stuff out on my own while taking classical piano lessons. My parents were multilingual, with Russian, Georgian, German, Scottish and a whole bunch of other DNA inputs (Mongolian, Persian, and Ethiopian claims have been made). I’ve lived in Argentina, France, and the U.K.. In the states I’ve lived In New York City, Vermont, and Washington DC, and Austin. I have collected songs all my life, and performed music in all sorts of styles and places.  

When I was a teenager in northern Virginia I used to host backyard jams (wearing a plain white, earlier incarnation of those painter’s pants). My mother put up with all this, welcoming both my school friends and people I’d pulled in off the street equally. She made sure that everyone stayed safe and fed, and that we didn’t blow a fuse off the porch. We came together almost every weekend for years, making a lot of noise at the cows that mooed back at us from across the fence.

We and the music evolved and grew. We gawked at the moon and wondered together at the world, and many of us went on to become professional musicians.

This was a deeply formative time for me musically. But as much as I had a passion for it, I put off my own music career. I went to college and graduate school. I got married and raised two strong young women. Our family worked and lived in several countries as well as the US, and we revived a 250-year-old farm in Vermont (shameless plug for New Day Farm maple syrup).

When I moved to Austin with my husband John, fresh after what feels like several lifetimes, the creative vibe, friendliness, and pure potential of the place inspired me, and I went out and bought an electric guitar (okay two).

Then came the pants.

As soon as I was presented with the magnificent pants, things started to move. I found welcoming jam sessions and master classes. I played at bars and Texas roadhouses and the storied stages of Antone’s and the Carousel Lounge. At various times I played rhythm and lead guitar, keyboards, bass, and lead vocals and harmonies - just having a ball.

I found myself playing in three bands all at once while also performing solo. And I wore those pants to every show.