some biographical information for those concerned with such things

I swapped the fiddle for the guitar at age 13 and have never forgiven myself. I mean, there are enough Okay guitar players in the world; more than enough. We have an over-abundance of Okay guitar players in the world, and I am one of them. There are, perhaps, fewer of us Not-Good fiddle players – thank god for that.

I started writing songs shortly thereafter, but it never came easy and it never felt clean. I wanted to write normal songs that people would like but instead I could only write about the enormity and sheer unbearableness of things. Like trying to draw a kitty and it keeps coming out looking like the Kraken, only you can’t understand where you went wrong. Where did all these tentacles come from?!

Oh god, the artistic angst! I told myself for years I’d never be a singer/songwriter, with my hideous kraken/kitten attempts, but when I found myself singing songs I’d written, I had to logically reconsider. The year I gave myself permission to be an artist – I realized nobody’s going to assign that to you, you just have to decide – my whole body sighed in relief. Oh. It’s enough to create. It’s enough to try to make sense of things. WHY DID NOBODY EVER TELL ME THIS.

I’m on a bit of a mission. Right now it looks like this: I string together words and notes in the hopes of creating a point of convergence, a place of stillness in this wild world, pulling in the threads of everything that makes us human and more and weaving them into something worth hanging around for. Maybe, something worth rising toward. What if we could transfer the feeling of a horse’s hide through the limitations of language? What if by just trying we’d be a little closer? What if the reason I feel so much is so that you can, too?

Sometime this year I’ll put out an album, that’s the plan. For now, I have some old recordings and some videos of varying quality for you to peruse. If it strikes your fancy, drop me a line, I’d love to hear from you.

Bisous,
Kesia Mei