Who I Am.

I was born in Oregon, during the month of May. 14 years have passed since then, and I am so glad to be able to share my experiences with everyone today.

I live with my mom, my dad, my younger brother, and my dog, Brownie. My favorite colors are indigo and turquoise. I like suede and snow, gardenias and grass. I sleep with three blankets over me, two pillows beneath my head, and a pillow next to me along the wall. I love orange chicken, I hate meatloaf.

Most kids grew up on Barbie dolls, Power Rangers, and Pokemon; I grew up on Michael Jackson, George Thoroughgood, and Narnia. Most kids grew up in daycare, learning how to say “please” and “thank you”; I grew up in my best friend’s garage, making things out of plywood. 

Maybe my childhood was a little bit unusual, but I like to think that that’s why I have such a creative way of thinking. 

I am a singer/songwriter/actress/pianist/author with big dreams.

Singing has always been a part of my life. I sing very often; ask anyone—my brother, my parents, my friends… I sing whatever comes to mind, whenever & wherever it comes to mind. I sang in the Oregon All-State Young Women’s Honor Choir at the OMEA Festival 2012 in Eugene, Oregon. I currently sing in two school choirs, and am thinking about joining another. I am in an a cappella group, as well. See our Facebook page here.

In addition to singing, I also write songs. I have been writing songs for a couple years now and have found it a very eye-opening experience. I recommend it to anyone who feels a need to get something off of their chest. It becomes much easier to do so with a few sheets of staff paper in of you.

Acting is a passion of mine. It comes as natural to me as breathing. Some of the best friendships are made on set and in the theater.

An upright piano sits in the dining room of our house. My parents bought it mostly for my brother, but I use it far more often than he. It has become my place of refuge, where my best song ideas come. Every time I play, unique thoughts and feelings thrust themselves into the air, bursting along the seams of each individual note. There is nothing akin to plunking those smooth, ivory keys.

When I say, “I’m always writing,” it is not an exaggeration. My pencil is a stub by the end of each day. In algebra, in science, in social studies, at home, inside, outside, at the beach, on the couch, in my room, upstairs, at the computer, at the dinner table, at the kitchen counter, in bed, in a tree…I write. In the words of Ernest Hemingway: “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

I’m straight, but not narrow. I’m a Christian. I don’t know how these two things can coexist, but you know what? I don’t care. I’m going to keep it that way.

I met a boy once. In my first conversation with him, I told him I hated everyone. That boy became my boyfriend. (He is not anymore.)

I love too much, too easily, too fast, too often, and I always end up getting hurt.

You can try to talk to me or confide in me, but I might not know what to say.

…

That’s about all.