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Leon Of Athens

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Quarantine Diaries: Leon Of Athens Is Playing An Audiotree Session & Watching "The Kominsky Method"

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As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors
GRAMMYs
Apr 21, 2020 - 9:12 am

As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors. Today, London-based, Greece-born indie-pop artist Leon Of Athens, who recently released his new single "Communication," shares his Quarantine Diary.

[10 a.m.] I'm a late sleeper and this quarantine definitely hasn't helped my sleeping habits. Luckily, I got eight full hours of sleep and feel much more relaxed today. Coffee calls. I simply cannot operate without it—you can easily call me an addict. Waking up in Athens in April is a true blessing. I'm a resident of London and was about to fly to the the U.S. for SXSW right when it got cancelled. I felt I needed to be in Athens close to my mom and fortunately, I was able to get here in time. It's 26 degrees Celsius and the sun here is sublime. I walk up the stairs to the rooftop for my daily dose of vitamin D and feast on the beautiful view. Athens is surrounded by three mountains with the sea right behind them. I'm taking it all in.

[10:45 a.m.] Still on the rooftop and now moving on to some cardio and stretching. Gotta keep my body moving, even if it's for a few minutes. It helps me stay mindful.

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[11:30 a.m.] I make myself a healthy brunch and get to work. I practically spend my entire days in my home studio, either playing or writing music. I've also been doing a lot of online sessions and tonight I'm doing one for Audiotree. I had done one in their studio, in person, a few years ago. They're great, so I'm extra excited for this one. I start setting up and going through my setlist for tonight's gig that will take place at midnight Greek time (we are eight hours forward) so it's definitely a good thing that I'm a late sleeper and that I have understanding neighbours.

[2:30 p.m.] Siesta time is quite important in Greece and lasts from 2:30 until 5:30. I never sleep during the day but it is imposed quiet time that I like to take advantage of by chilling on the balcony and getting some reading done. It's also the time my manager Eva in Philadelphia is up so I'm usually on the phone with her or on a conference call. We haven't changed much in the way that we work and are constantly keeping busy.

[4 p.m.] I put on my mask and gloves and leave the house for the nearest grocery and drug store. I stock up on some food and sanitisers while taking my daily stroll. I arrive back home, wash my hands and make myself some chicken and rice to eat. 

[6 p.m.] I put on the news and get my daily update on the number of COVID-19 cases. We're at 11 new cases today, so we're doing great. Starting to see the light at the end of tunnel. 

[6:30 p.m.] I've been working on a documentary I'm taking part in as a musician. My actress and dancer friend Melia who lives in L.A. asked me to take part in it—it's a kind of audio/visual digital mixtape, a meditation on being human, both from our internal and external experiences of being connected to a larger community. It's a virtual discussion where I am replying to her dancing through music. My space in my apartment is relatively small so I spend quite a few hours on trying to create an alluring setting, getting the right props, angles and lighting for the shoot. I've always been a D.I.Y. kinda guy but this situation has definitely brought out my resourcefulness on a whole new level. I will be performing a song of mine called "Fire Inside You" from my last album, [2018's Xenos]. After getting the right sound ready, I wait for the sun to go down. I light up some candles and shoot the last few takes.

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[9:30 p.m.] I now have to start setting up the sound for Audiotree's session. My neighbour and drummer friend Theo joins the soundcheck. We perform together on many of these sessions and it's great that we're able to do so. The technical aspect of the sound is lot trickier than it looks and it's something I need to do from the beginning every time I have a new setup. It takes up some more time but we make sure to have some dinner at least a couple hours before the session and digest in time.

[12 a.m.] Audiotree session. 

[12:30 a.m.] The session went great and Theo goes home. I'm starting to feel pretty wiped out and take a warm shower. 

[1 a.m.] I put on "The Kominsky Method" to decompress and actually feel like I might even fall sleep a bit earlier tonight. 

If you wish to support our efforts to assist music professionals in need, learn more about the Recording Academy's and MusiCares COVID-19 Relief Fund.

If you are a member of the music industry in need of assistance, visit the MusiCares website.

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Lisa Loeb

Photo courtesy of Lisa Loeb

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Quarantine Diaries: Lisa Loeb Is Celebrating 25 Years Of "Stay (I Missed You)" & Watching "RuPaul's Drag Race"

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The GRAMMY-winning '90s mainstay is also releasing a new music video featuring Michelle Branch, "Doesn't It Feel Good"
GRAMMYs
Sep 23, 2020 - 8:22 am

As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, GRAMMY.com reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors. Today, GRAMMY-winning indie-pop/rock favorite Lisa Loeb shares her Quarantine Diary. Lisa Loeb's latest studio album A Simple Trick To Happiness is out now. Watch Lisa's new video, "Doesn't It Feel Good" featuring Michelle Branch and directed by Jessa Zapor-Gray, exclusively on GRAMMY.com below. 

[7:00 a.m.] I start off the day early before the kids get up, to feed my 19-year-old diabetic Tortie cat and give her insulin, drink a strong coffee (Lisa Loeb Wake Up! blend, of course, perfect flavor and strong with milk and sugar), Ezekiel Bread toast with almond butter and super fruit jelly, and a walk outside before the day begins. The sun shines pink through the window at the top of the stairs at my house in Los Angeles. You can see the sunscreen on my nose, because it’s early and I always wear my sunscreen, but was probably too tired to notice I didn’t finish blending.

[7:45 a.m.] I make the kids breakfast, something like bagels or pancakes, fruit, bacon, yogurt, and hope that they eat it before they get into their virtual classes.

[9:30 a.m.] while my 8-year-old, Emet, has a break, I take a tap class—distanced, in the back yard, with masks. I love walking, dance classes and strength training, most of which is happening online, but I finally moved the tap class into the back patio with a couple of like-minded moms. Connecting with humans, safely, set to music, really lightens things up. 

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[1:00 p.m.] After I make lunch, the kids go back to their virtual school. I stay in earshot of my son while trying to scoot into my office to answer a million emails and stay on top of the myriad projects I have going on: a new family friendly children's album, new songs for a new grown-up album, voice-over auditions, fan club vinyl signing of my 25th anniversary no. 1 song, "Stay (I Missed You)," which was also GRAMMY-nominated!

[4:00 p.m.] Later, after the kids are done with their school, I change clothes, turn on the bright lights, set up the gear, and start pre-recording events and concerts. There are so many virtual events happening all over the country: from voting events to women’s cancer and lupus, I’m honored to play all of them, and people have been reaching out to musicians a lot. Sometimes the events are live, but often they’re prerecorded, so I’ve become a pro with lighting, makeup, hair and audio, and really trying to get our wi-fi up to speed—literally. 

Sometimes I have fan club events online, watch-alongs, or live concerts, including two concerts in which I’ll be playing my entire Tails album acoustically on Sept. 26 on the LoopedLive app, to celebrate the 25th anniversary of its release. Here I am pre-recording a TV appearance for a Ziggy Marley duet that will air on the Kelly Clarkson show, then I’ll finish up with an appearance for a Hallmark special to honor Hero Dogs. 

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There’s usually a number of Cameo shout-out requests that have come in at this point for birthdays, anniversaries, or just uplifting message, and I try to squeeze them in before I make dinner for the kids. Or if I’m smart, order in Thai food!

[7:30 p.m.] After dinner, Emet watches part of an Avengers movie with my husband, Roey. I cuddle with my daughter, Lyla and our aforementioned cat, Sweetie McGee, while we eat ice cream with chocolate chips and watch "RuPaul’s Drag Race." 

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[8:30 p.m.] Then it’s up to bed to brush teeth, get in the PJs and read with each kid, if it’s not too late, and then time to finish up some work, clean the kitchen and get in bed to read. I’m an avid reader, and during the distancing orders, I’ve been able to read more than ever. Then, time for sleep, and to set the alarm for the next day to see what it will bring.

Making Heads Or 'Tails' Of Success: Lisa Loeb Celebrates 25 Years Of Her Major-Label Debut Album

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Peter Bjorn And John

Photo by Johan Bergmark

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Quarantine Diaries: Peter Bjorn And John's John Eriksson Is Reading Poetry & Battling Possible COVID-Related Illness

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As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors
GRAMMYs
May 5, 2020 - 11:59 am

As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors. Today, John Eriksson of Swedish indie favorites Peter Bjorn And John, shares his Quarantine Diary. Peter Bjorn And John's ninth studio album, Endless Dream, is out now.

[4:30 a.m.] Waking up, coughing like a very old man. The sound reminds me of my grandfather. He was coughing a lot, he was a car repairman and he was half deaf. Someone fired a gun right next to his right ear.

[Editor's note: According to the band's management, Eriksson suspects he may have contracted COVID-19. But, because they're only testing people in Sweden who need hospital care, he can't be sure.]

[4:34 a.m.] Trying to fall asleep again by watching an old Swedish criminal drama from the end of the '80s. Everybody is wearing bright white jackets and dresses. Weightless, fluffy humans with untroubled minds, feather-light bodies, relaxed faces. Everything looks so easy and the pace is so unbelievably slow. The investigator is constantly holding a burning cigarette between his index and middle finger.

[5:30 a.m.]  Waking up, coughing and probably waking up my girlfriend for the 45th time during the last three weeks. But, she loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah?

[5:35 a.m.] Trying to read a book in bed. Can almost only read "slow" writers at the moment. Tove Jansson or Peter Handke. Bruno K. Öijer or Tomas Tranströmer. Books where the sentences are not chasing each other, texts where it doesn't matter if you are on page one or 99. Pages that have a mind of their own.

[8:01 a.m.] My girlfriend comes from the kitchen and hands me a black bowl with oatmeal porridge. Eating that in bed, waving goodbye to my son on his way to school. 

[9:17 a.m.] Looking out the window. Coughing.

[10:00 a.m.] Time for a chance of scenery. Walking into the living room. Looking out of that window.

[10:14 a.m.] Standing on the balcony, watching seagulls making love on a roof. It is not cute. A big, dazed bumble bee, already busy, flies around looking for the meaning of life, creating a feeling of melancholy. Feel like touching its fuzzy yellow-black body and wish it luck. 

Another busy creature, the postman, comes on his yellow bicycle, wearing shorts today (why not). He picks up the envelopes, the flyers and magazines from his huge, blue postbag in a relaxed and effortless way, totally at ease with his tasks. He walks slowly to the house next to ours.

On the street below, random people are walking almost aimlessly, like they are on vacation, like the narrow passage in our backyard is the Ramblas in Barcelona. But the people down there don't sound like tourists; the only thing you hear is the dampened sound of their slow footsteps on the asphalt, soft rubber soles, sometimes touching small pieces of gravel. No hard heels and no loud voices. It's like everybody is trying to compose a vast silence, together. A minute of silence after a minute of silence. The only distinct sounds are the spring birds. For all of them, it's business as usual and the only creatures behaving like they are on a charter trip are the seagulls. Screaming, fighting, f**king, acting like they own this place.

[11:30 a.m.] Continuing to read. The book I'm reading smells like dust in a warm attic, its pages yellowed by sunlight and antique cigarette smoke.

[11:55 a.m.] Doing a breathing exercise in order to get the mucus out of the lungs and I end up coughing up a big lump of white-yellow slime that lands on the wooden floor. Looking down at something from another world and it feels like it is looking back at me. I go to the toilet, gather a big ball of toilet paper, go back into the living room and carefully wipes up the slime. I throw the paper in the toilet and look at myself in the mirror. It is unworthy to be sick. Unworthy. 

[1:15 p.m.] Drinking water. Getting a text from Bjorn, asking me if I want to DJ at a livestream event next month. Seriously considering this for a moment, which must be a sign of illness. 

[2:02 p.m.] Have noticed that movies in black and white work better when you are sick, It's like there's more space in them. Watching Wim Wenders' "Der himmel über Berlin" for the first time on a fantastic Swedish movie site and one scene takes my breath away. The camera zooms in on a woman sitting in a laundromat thinking about all the stuff she needs to fix at home before her husband gets there: cooking food, doing the dishes, vacuuming. In the middle of her thoughts, the image changes from black and white to color, illuminating a long row of dark-red washing machines. This almost makes me cry. Don't know why. 

[5:30 p.m.–8 p.m.] Coughing.

[8 p.m.] Going to bed. Feel a bit better than yesterday evening. Before I turn out the light, I read the last lines of a poem by Tranströmer: 

"Outside, the late spring.
From the greenery a whistling - people or birds?
And cherry trees in bloom pat the heavy trucks on the way home.
Weeks go by.
Slowly night comes.
Moths settle down on the pane:
small pale telegrams from the world."

If you wish to support our efforts to assist music professionals in need, learn more about the Recording Academy's and MusiCares COVID-19 Relief Fund.

If you are a member of the music industry in need of assistance, visit the MusiCares website.

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Stefan Alexander

Stefan Alexander

Photo: Benjy Bradshaw

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Quarantine Diaries: Indie Pop Artist Stefan Alexander Is Calling His Parents And Reading Patti Smith

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As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors
GRAMMYs
Apr 18, 2020 - 9:41 am

As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors. Today, NYC queer electro, indie pop artist Stefan Alexander, who recently released his sophomore EP, Cry Again, shares his Quarantine Diary.

As has been said over and over, this is a crazy time to be alive. It's perhaps an even crazier time to be alive in New York City, where I'm currently in my version of quarantine. NYC has essentially become the center of the pandemic in the U.S., with over 100,000 cases in the five boroughs alone. 

I only go out once a week for groceries and any other errands. However, I live in a spacious two-family house. I've mostly been holed up in my room, working from home for my post-production day job, doing some remote vocal work and stealing moments to write new songs. I'm so thankful for my job security during this time. I know so many musicians who primarily make their living from touring and performing. They're really struggling, and that puts my challenges in perspective, along with the stories I hear from my friends who work in healthcare who are seeing the devastation on the frontline.

For the first few weeks of lockdown, my anxiety hit a new high. I was relying on Benadryl and other sleep aids at night and extra coffee in the morning. I couldn't stop refreshing the news every hour, scared of what new nightmare might pop up on the screen. It took me a while to understand how much this constant news diet was affecting me. When I started limiting myself, my creative brain was able to wake up again. 

Like many of us, I've created a new routine inside the restrictions of quarantine. As much as I miss all of my friends and family, I'm starting to get used to this new normal.

[8-10 a.m.] Wake up my mind and body

Stefan Alexander

Stefan Alexander's at-home gym equipment | Courtesy Photo: Stefan Alexander

I've been trying to wake up early every day, even on the weekend. I'm a morning person anyway, so I always hop out of bed. First, I make my first cup of coffee. Then I start my workout and turn on WNYC, my local NPR station. In quarantine, I've started weightlifting again in my room, working on my beach bod with hopes that we'll all be able to do some sunbathing soon—after a much-needed haircut. 

I miss Brighton Beach and Coney Island, where I'd normally be going in the next month or two. Regardless, it feels so good to get the blood and endorphins flowing. Maybe I'll finally be a thirst trap once I can finally get out into the world again!

[10 a.m.-noon] Make a smoothie and call my mom and dad

Every morning, I make myself a smoothie, chock-full of ginger to help my immunity. This is also when I pour a second cup of coffee. Then I call my parents. Like many people, it's really hard for me not to visit my family. I had to cancel a trip back home to Massachusetts earlier in March. I don't know when I'll see my parents again in person, but for now, the daily phone calls help make the distance feel less insurmountable.

[noon-2 p.m.] Record and write music

Stefan Alexander

Stefan Alexander records music at home | Courtesy Photo: Stefan Alexander

I've been making music every day, recording acoustic videos and collaborating remotely with a few producers here in the city and around the world. During normal times, I do most of my songwriting while in transit, commuting to and from work or heading out to meet a friend. Now, out of necessity, my room has become the place where I feel the most creatively engaged. I'm lucky to have my own recording gear, so I can keep working, even if I can't get into the studio. I've heard from a lot of artist friends that they're either artistically stuck or feeling prolific. I'm, thankfully, more the latter.

[2-4 p.m.] Eat lunch and edit

I've been doing a lot more cooking. Today, lunch is leftovers from a big pot of split peas and rice I made a few days ago. While eating, I listen to a bit of a podcast: Queery, hosted by Cameron Esposito, [which features] interviews with LGBTQ+ artists and comedians. Listening to familiar voices on podcasts and the radio keeps me grounded, able to imagine a post-coronavirus world. 

After lunch, I get to editing the vocals I recorded earlier in the day, prepping them to send to the producer. I'm really excited about all the new music I'm working on. It might not be out in the world for many months, but for now, it's another part of the future I'm envisioning for myself, a more colorful light at the end of the tunnel.

[4-6 p.m.] Read "Just Kids," check the news and meditate

Stefan Alexander

Stefan Alexander reads at home | Courtesy Photo: Stefan Alexander

I've been meaning to read Patti Smith's "Just Kids" for years, so when I found it on our communal bookshelf, I was excited to finally have the time to do it. While I can't get out and see the city, reading the book is a wonderful way to envision NYC at a different time, bursting with life. I listen to some Brian Eno while I'm reading. 

A notification pops up on my phone, and when I click it on, I'm compelled to check the news. They've just released the new case numbers, the updated death count. My anxiety flares up and I spend 15 minutes doing some deep breathing meditation to find equilibrium again.

[6-8 p.m.] Call a friend and sip a cocktail

Stefan Alexander

A cocktail mixed by Stefan Alexander | Courtesy Photo: Stefan Alexander

A couple of weeks ago, I made a list of all the friends I should call or FaceTime when I'm feeling lonely. I mix up a cocktail, one of my favorite ways to decompress, and call one or two of the people on that list. I'm reconnecting with friends I don't get to see very often. 

I've realized that quarantine has essentially made all of us equidistant, whether we live across the country or somewhere nearby in Brooklyn, which is both terrifying and comforting. I'm trying to concentrate on the comfort. I've always been more of an extrovert, so this time cooped up is challenging for me, but the phone calls provide me with the interaction I need, despite the lack of physical human contact.

[8-10 p.m.] Make another cocktail and watch "Unorthodox"

After catching up with a friend, I whip up another cocktail and open my computer, avoiding checking the news again. Tonight I'm watching "Unorthodox" on Netflix. It's about a woman's escape from her Chassidic upbringing in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. My previous apartment was in the predominantly Chassidic neighborhood of Borough Park. We almost never had the opportunity to interact with our neighbors. I gleaned whatever information I could from the few conversations I had the pleasure to have. "Unorthodox," which is based on a memoir, paints such a vivid picture of one woman's life within the community. This show is so immersive that it makes for a great distraction from everything going on outside.

[10 p.m.-midnight] Say goodnight to mom and dad, read and sleep

Along with waking up early in quarantine, I've also been going to sleep early. Before bed, I call my parents once more for a short conversation: goodnight and I love you. I get ready for bed and read a few more pages of "Just Kids" before dozing off.

If you wish to support our efforts to assist music professionals in need, learn more about the Recording Academy's and MusiCares COVID-19 Relief Fund.

If you are a member of the music industry in need of assistance, visit the MusiCares website.

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Best Ex

Photo by Natalie Sparaccio

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Quarantine Diaries: Best Ex Singer Mariel Loveland Is Playing Ukulele & Watching Brad Mondo Hair Videos

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As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors
GRAMMYs
Apr 10, 2020 - 10:38 am

As the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic continues to rock the music industry, the Recording Academy reached out to a few musicians to see how they were spending their days indoors. Today, Mariel Loveland of Brooklyn indie-pop outfit Best Ex, whose new EP Good At Feeling Bad drops on May 22, shares her Quarantine Diary.

I've been quarantined in the suburbs of New Jersey for about a month now, and the first two weeks were definitely an adjustment. My mother more or less kidnapped me from Brooklyn—seriously, she said I didn’t have a choice and she was showing up at my door to get me regardless. I packed my bag and 45 minutes later she was there, mask in tow. That's an Italian mama for ya. At that point, I had a cough (which has since proved to be uniquely bad seasonal allergies) and was so terrified about potentially getting her sick that I stayed in the basement for 14 days without ever coming upstairs except to grab a plate of food. After the 14 days, we picked up my grandmother from Long Island, and the three of us have been holed up together. There are lots of meatballs, lots of friendly bickering (particularly when we can’t hear the rest of our family on our insane 20-person Zoom chats), and so much "90 Day Fiance" and "Vanderpump Rules." 

Though I have a tendency to catastrophize matters of the heart, I like to think I'm pretty rock solid with actual disasters. To be honest, I don't really feel the impending sense of dread my friends feel. At least not yet. I feel safe inside. My family is healthy, and though it is a bit lonely, it really only feels like life is on pause. I’m trying to welcome this break, with the thought I may never have one again. Of course, I’d be lying if I wasn’t bummed about my album's release. I was working on it for the last two years, and now that it’s finally coming out, the entire music industry is shut down. Two weeks before N.Y.C. basically closed, we had just started practicing our new setup as a duo. I had just pulled the trigger on planning a U.K. and European tour. We had West Coast and Midwest dates in talks and hometown shows slated for this month. That’s all indefinitely on hold, and when this blows over, I need to evaluate when and if I can still afford those tours after all the financial losses this thing has caused me.

Anyway, my days as of late have been quiet and creative. I’m lucky to get to spend so much time with my mom and grandma, and I feel blessed I get to wake up every day and write.

Wednesday, April 8

[10:30 a.m.–11 a.m.] Peeling my eyelids open

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I’m a fully functioning adult who regularly gets out of bed after 11 if I don’t have anything else to do. I stayed up until about 1:30 a.m. watching the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen on YouTube and woke up this morning with a raging headache and a song in my head. I sing the melody into my voice notes and don't get up until my mom texts me that the coffee maker is turning off. It's go time (unless I want iced coffee).

[11 a.m.–1:45 p.m.] Flipping between news stations

I'm normally someone who spends a lot of the day reading news, op-eds and essays. The coronavirus outbreak has made this (probably unhealthy addiction) even worse. In Brooklyn, where I don't have cable TV, I usually read The Guardian or the New York Times, but my mother has the luxury of cable news. Particularly, Fox News, which I like to watch and purposely anger myself enough to yell at Tucker Carlson through the screen. Like every other day, we watch Andrew Cuomo's briefing while I eat a scone (I tried my hand at baking a couple days ago) and an orange. We've been joking through this whole thing that he’s my mom's boyfriend. Andrew, please be my stepdad? Is your brother single, too? Oh my god, I’ve been trapped in this house too long.

[1:45 p.m.–2:30 p.m. ] I meant to work out but it didn't happen

I'm not really one to ever work out. In fact, my family hysterically laughed when I told them I had started jogging. So far, I've done it three days in a row, but today my entire body hurt, and I was tired. I went downstairs to shower and change into running clothes, but that never happened. Instead, I started trying out a makeup tutorial from GiGi Hadid’s makeup artist, and it looked terrible on me. I had to wash off my whole face and try something else. At this time, I also texted my roommate at home to see how my plants are doing. It’s looking pretty iffy at the moment. We’re not really green thumbs.

[2:30 p.m.–5 p.m.] Time to sing and time to write

This quarantine has finally helped lift my months-long writer’s block, though I haven’t yet written the song. I feel like I’m on the brink of it. My mind probably won’t let it happen until everything I’ve already recorded is finally released, but I’m going to keep trying anyway. I played the voice memo from this morning. It’s kind of rubbish—or at least I don’t have a good place for it yet. I played through some other stuff I’ve written in the last two weeks and rehearsed a song I may sing at my brother’s wedding. I feel more nervous to sing at his wedding than I did singing in front of an entire stadium, so I don’t know if I’m going to go through with it.

I’ve also been teaching myself ukulele. The world could always use a new ukulele song, and somehow, I found the one instrument my tiny hands feel too big for. I sing "Can’t Help Falling In Love" to an audience of my cat using her litter box. I've had worse crowds.

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[5 p.m.–8:45 p.m.] Dinner and a movie

I go upstairs and instead of going on a run, I take my cat outside and sit in the rocking chair on the porch with her. She hisses at me, so I throw her back inside before she starts scratching and start watching TV with my mom and grandma. Eventually, we pick the film Hall Pass, which I’ve somehow never seen, and it’s exactly the kind of movie I needed to see at this moment. We also order dinner from our favorite Indian place. It’s quite exciting considering it was my grandmother’s first time eating Indian food.

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[8:45 p.m.–1:45 a.m.] Writing, writing, writing

Besides being a songwriter, I’m a writer writer. I swore during this quarantine that I’d finally write my poetry book, but I'm not really loaded with inspiration just sitting in a basement all day. I have some other stuff to finish anyway. Like most nights when I’m winding down, I make some tea (with biscuits of course) before I get to it. I write a bit and do some research for a piece I’m writing tomorrow. I like doing that before bed, so when I wake up, it’s all laid out for me.

After that, I watch YouTube until I pass out. I've been really liking Brad Mondo's hair videos, and it tempted me enough to dye my hair pink during quarantine. My roots are hopeless anyway. Beyond that, I’ve just been watching people try on things from clothing stores that I wish I could shop in right now. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I’ll get to buy cute new clothes for a cute new date and go to a cute old bar. Or maybe I’ll get to pick out a tour outfit. I love dressing up for shows, but until then, I’ve got my music, my words and my sweatpants.

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If you wish to support our efforts to assist music professionals in need, learn more about the Recording Academy's and MusiCares COVID-19 Relief Fund.

If you are a member of the music industry in need of assistance, visit the MusiCares website.

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