A letter to the women of the world (and music industry)


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Dear Women of the world,

You are more than your body.  Showing off your body doesn’t garner respect like you want to believe it does.  You want respect and to be treated as beautiful and smart?  Don’t sell your body through images and videos.  Share your art, share your music, and share your talents, but don’t share every inch of your skin with the entire world.  Considering the image you present is important- more than you will ever know.  Whether you want it or not, you brand yourself every single day by the clothes you wear, the way you talk and how you carry yourself.  Don’t want to be judged?  Harsh reality- in a world saturated with images and everyone on social media, there are a million eyes looking at you and you will be judged.  Don’t take that responsibility lightly.  I won’t name drop as badly as I want to, but you musicians, artists and actresses know who you are- stop it.  Stop making us think that it’s ok to throw our bodies in people’s faces whether they like it or not.  Stop making us think we have to be a specific size.  We don’t.  Beauty is found in all shapes and sizes.  Stop telling us that you’re a feminist and then propagate a less than respectful image to the public.  Don’t kid yourself because you aren’t kidding us.

May we women stop talking so negatively to ourselves and about ourselves, learn to smile more often, spend time on inner beauty, and worry less about what people think of us and more about what God thinks about us.

~lme

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Tupperware Kids


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Tupperware kids

The city dump

Is one big place

But to me

I see the face

And the bodies

Of us all

Kept tucked behind an iron wall

~~~

To the left are shells of cars

Like the structures that we are

Hollow inside without meat

Dripping with our own selfies

We grew up nice

We grew uptight

We packed in tupperware

At night

And now I know that it’s not right

Yet I can’t stop myself

~~~

Our parents never seemed to mind

And now we teach our kids it’s fine

If you don’t like it

Just unwind

And cast it to the side

Landfills full of junk we used

Thrift stores are for cool kids too

Hear, hear the Tupperware kids

Our cry

Don’t you tell us what to do!

~~~

Look at all my stuff I scream

I’m rich and pretty,

See my newsfeed?

The more likes

That I can procure

will heal my troubles

I am pretty- pretty sure

Broken marriages

Disheveled people

Worshiping under

broken steeples

Building bigger barns

Although

The book says don’t

Do that?

~~~

Walking shadows

Bathe in despair

We are too advanced

To care

Tell me how to live?

Who dares

Cause I’m a Tupperware kid

I’m so smart now

So we say

The trash is piling up today

Let’s bury it so no one knows

The skeletons of our no no’s

~~~

I feel sick inside a lot

I imagine there’s a reason

It’s all rolling down the hill

Into a colder season

Tiny snowballs gainin speed

How they slowly grew

We’ve learned to throw it all away

For something shiny and new

~~~

Here I stand in the city dump

With other rejected casings

And to my left foot

I kick

A piece of Tupperware from some

Manufacturing station

Cause I’m as dirty as this trash

an entitled Tupperware kid

Of the toss it generation

~lme

Platonic City


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Platonic city here we come

To the ocean

I must go

No one but my heart

Can know

The waves that pull

My body so

And hold me

In their sway

 

Like a love

That must end

Shorelines

That begin and end

The golden globe

Is sinking in

into a rising summer

Moon

 

Get me

Far away from here

Where the ground

Is crystal clear

And I won’t be forced

To hear

A man

With lies profuse

 

I know something

Waits for me

Blues and greens

And calm bliss be

he pulls me in

but owns not me

for I

will not be caged

~lme

Sugar in the Shoreline


“We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch – we are getting back from whence we came.” ~John F. Kennedy

The open road is a reset button for the mind. A simple roadtrip can clear the senses, help one take in the scenery from a new vantage point and gain fresh
perspective. You merely watch the frustrations, irritations and pain of life disappear in the rear view mirror with each passing mile. As we drove through the mountains of Asheville, I was able to be in the moment if only for a moment. Winter was melting away as the water rushed down the hills and shot off the rocks in tiny waterfall fashion as if dancing for me and shouting- Spring is here! For us wandering spirits, the open road holds promise, possibility and the pursuit of something new. Charleston was our home for a long Easter weekend, and we soaked it in like a bowl of creamy, delicious grits. We met new characters, allowed our taste buds to revel in both savory and sweet, ambled amidst the sea colored cottages and smiled as we heard the swelling song of the ocean in all her glory. Charleston can boast of a slower pace, a calmer smile and a wealth of historical connections. From the marshy and peaceful beauty of Cypress Gardens to the pasted painted perfection of Rainbow Row, Charlie-town (as Brianne named it), did not disappoint us in the least.

Travel, like music, is a process of changing with a movement of ourselves from one place to another. Perhaps musicians are at times signified as vagabonds, because music and travel clasp hands like the ocean and the shoreline. A longing for freedom and a sense of cutting the strings tied to our wrists by the infringing world of doubters, naysayers and realists. To seek a wealth of experience as opposed to a wealth of money is a noble aim. Charleston, the ocean and the moments of respite from our frantic lives were a welcoming haven for us.

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.”

~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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Itcy Feet


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I can see the desert

or life there by the sea

or somewhere that’s less traveled

somewhere in between

In the bustling city

or a smaller town

or maybe overseas

where I cannot be found

Do you ever feel it

The itch under your feet

to be somewhere far away

maybe it’s just me…

As I contemplate these final 10 months living at this great house in Nashville, Tennessee, I have begun a new research project.  What new, where to live, what to do at the end of 2015, beginning of 2016 in my life?  Here’s your brown bag, breathe.  I have various ideas such as take a vacation and work on an organic farm before I move to my next locale I’ll call home.  I’ve considered by the ocean that I love, possibly out West near a desert or a small but vibrant little town where I can grow, connect and relate as an artist to a community.  I would like to be near my family, but I’m not certain currently whether I’m ready to settle back down in the Lone Star State.  Anyone who knows me knows I’m not the biggest fan of cold.  If I’m bundled properly, then ok.  I want to be in a good area, but I also want a slower pace than a bustling city life.  At moments, I’ve thought about New York City and also the DC Metro area, but I’m just not sure it’s calling me strongly enough.  I’m currently a little messy-headed and trying to pray about it and decide what my next move should be.  After our travels to Italy (which I will post about in the upcoming weeks), I feel strongly that I would like to live there within the next several years.  Should I look for some exciting, adventurous and new job or should I launch into trying my music full-time.  I’m at a precipice here people.  I welcome advice, thoughts and encouragement.

But here are some thoughts, places to visit, things that seem to draw me to themselves:

~South Carolina- Charleston and Beaufort

~The Pacific Northwest- particularly Seattle and Portland

~Wilmington, North Carolina- a place where various movies and television shows have been filmed- quite quaint and on the water

~Sedona, Arizona

~Simplistic and healthful living- a job in this realm

~the travel industry- being a travel writer is not easy, but something in that field would be of interest

~I want to possibly visit places that hold some negative meaning for me and create new and beautiful memories there to retrace those memories in goodness.

~the concept of making music my career for a year, just to try it.  Because honestly, there are always jobs to be had to fall back on in a few years.

~Family- not more than a 2-4 hour plane ride from them

~possibly overseas for a time being

~a short stint working at an organic farm and staying there

~Sheep farm work in Ireland- sounds fun

I welcome thoughts, connects, advice or anything else as I grow through this research project in the next six months.

~lme

Freedom in the Fall


There is something different in the air at the end of September. There’s a crispness like an apple and a hush like a fireside glow. New connections with new people give me hope. The promise of new opportunities and new adventures and a life to be led in front of me pull me along my pathway of light.  Through growth, you begin to fear that you will never feel alive or happy again. But slowly a raw heart begins to realize something is there, something of a kernel of possibility.

Promises, promises the people cry

And you know you aren’t scared to die.

In the quiet darkness of the night

You feel closer to a better life.

Have a wonderful weekend enjoying the fleeting days of warm summer as the Fall is headed our way 🙂  Thank you for reading, and check out new show dates on my other page at the tab at the top of this blog.  If you’re interested in booking a house show, feel free to email me at leahemusic@gmail.com

~lmeflowers

Eulogy while I’m still alive


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I hope to die with a thousand stories woven within my skin.  There will be tales of adventures in foreign lands, of amazing people that I have met and befriended along my journey, of moments that taught me, lifted me and pulled me closer to who I was meant to become.  My face will be well worn but all of the smile lines will indicate a myriad of moments where laughter lit my face up and a hearty burst of air exhaled from my chest into a world where I temporarily existed.  My hands may look old but hopefully the river of veins running throughout them will tell of the people they’ve hugged, the meals they’ve cooked for those I have loved or handed something to someone in need.

The vacant body that they will see before them will have only been the vessel.  A vessel that had opportunities beyond what she thought at 20 when she thought the world would end.  For in this body she traveled around an incredible landscape, saw sights that ancient queens never comprehended, heard music that made her spirit soar, created music to share with others, flew above a Costa Rican rainforest like an eagle, hiked the Inca trail in the Andes into Macchu Picchu with her family, walked in the great cities of the ancient world, climbed mountains, swam in oceans, stood beneath waterfalls, whitewater rafted in Idaho, devoured lobster on the shores of a Maine island, felt the waves of the ocean caress her feet, overcame fears, met countless souls close to home and far away, learned to sail, gained skills in cooking from an Italian, an American mother and grandmother, entertained at dinner parties and birthday parties, rode horseback through the ephemeral forests of New Zealand, did mission work in Jamaica, traversed the British Isles, seeing the graves of Shakespeare and more, met and connected with those in poverty, opened her heart to love those different than her and those less fortunate and extended hands of friendship to those the world over.

I will hope that I learned to give and value real love.  To have learned that love is a choice and not just a feeling.  I hope that I will have loved when it was difficult, and I hope I will be willing to love enough to desire to give up.  Love is an emptying of self and pride of which it takes a lifetime to learn and a lifetime to put into practice.  And the person that I became will not be focused on how pretty or fit or well-dressed I was.  I will have become someone who lives and abides in the comfort that my validation does not come from others around me.  I will be focused on the fact that none of these temporal things matters to the God I serve and that those who focus on the true things of life will have always been present in my life.  I will have learned that the people who are meant to be near us and surround us will gravitate toward us continually.  Should we have desired affection or attention from others that we did not receive, perhaps we were never meant to be the recipient of that.

I hope the look on my face in my coffin resembles a smile instead of a frown and that I did more of the first in life than the latter.  A soul at peace should have nothing but a smile on her face and a song within her heart when it’s her time to go on.  I hope that when people think of me they in turn will smile.  I hope they each have vivid memories of places I shared with them, sunsets we sat beneath, trains that passed us while we played our instruments, conversations we shared that involved depths not comprehended by the naked eye as well as songs I shared and left around the American landscape as a piece of my legacy.  I hope people come to a closer view of my Maker when they come in contact with me.  May I not be merely focused on myself as a musician, a career woman, a writer, a daughter, a sister, a thinker, an explorer or a songwriter.  But may I know that all facets make up a daughter of God walking and breathing and trying to walk on a good path homeward.  As they lay me back into the dust from which I came, my stories will turn back into organic matter that become the setting for the next generation of adventurers and dreamers.  For they will carry on what we have started.  And I will hope I have done my part to leave it in good hands and to have bettered the world while I inhabited it.

When I die and begin to travel toward the light of the sun, perhaps the shackles around my feet will unclasp and release me from the bonds of an earth to which I shall never return.  And as my spirit soars ever higher up and through the clouds and into the stratosphere, I will begin to hear music and familiar voices.  And when I arrive at heaven’s front door and I softly knock, He will open it with a warm and welcoming smile and say, “We’ve been waiting for you- come in.”  I will leave my jar of troubles outside and enter in where the most beautiful song I have ever heard is wafting toward me and slowly washes over me.  And forever I will be in eternal joy.

Go forth and do good as you create a lasting legacy 🙂

~lme

Poison in the Posies


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I cut myself

Just to bleed you out

I drained the pen

In hopes that I could write you out

It may take

too many years

The only way to find out

Is wading in the fear

 

Why must we gain wisdom

In cruel ways

Stick it to me slowly

Let it drip into my veins

 

Certain days I can see

The dust I was before

When apathy passed around me

and left me crumpled on the floor

Plenty of art

With this fodder

And the sting

You don’t connect the dots

until it calls for you

And you trade in everything

 

Why must we learn the truth

In cruel ways

Stick it to me slowly

Let it drip into my veins

 

At times I just despise you

For what you did

Even though I know I shouldn’t

But still I do

See it, Here lies what’s broken

The truth is that it’s gone

I think I once had confidence

But it has since floated on

 

Why must we gain wisdom

In cruel ways

Stick it to me slowly

Let it drip into my veins

 

You’ll Be-elzebub

while they dance around your fire

Ring around the rosie

But don’t you dare get cozy

There’s poison in the posies

Get thee away from me

The one I thought was love

Who became the phantom

That haunts me from beneath

Mountain meets erosion

Is what I’ve become

You turned away too often

To convince me you’re the one.

~lme

Guest Post!


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I had the pleasure of guest posting on the Living Behind the Scenes blog recently.  Please feel free to check out the post here.  It’s a resourceful blog for people in the music industry with helpful hints and more.  So, visit the site and peruse some of the articles if you so choose!

Here’s a poem I wrote today to say so long…

Into the wind…

As I threw it to the wind

My spirit felt more light

I wonder if I smiled more

Would it my feet begin to fly

Nothing gold can ever stay

Who’s hiding what is real

The fact that I can hurt

Means I’m still able to feel

 

father time is keeping watch

over hours and our days

they keep pushing us through moments

Without first resting on this page

What’s common can be lovely

What’s simple can be joy

What’s with all the pressure

To settle on a boy

 

I carried the weight on my shoulders

Like a milkmaid into town

Worried what they’re saying

Knocking myself down

Pinball spinning slower

Around the hairpin curve

Undocumented hours

To be a king, you serve

 

The mountains give direction

The sun crests o’er the hills

Welcome to the forest

Where no one cheats or steals

Whispers in the willows

The hollow tree, a home

The moss becomes a blanket

My pillow is a stone

 

In dreams I found a melody

That disappeared with light

I searched for something somewhere

For my goods I had to fight

If only I was something

I let myself believe

When I had it all along

Tucked within my sleeve

~lme