Post #1 of many to come
For the past month or so, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading about your lives - your opinions, your creative processes, your recipes (yum), and in some cases, deeply personal stories that I’m honored to get to read and learn about you. Julie Gammack, who has been a wonderful resource and supporter of the arts, is who turned me onto this platform. Thank you, Julie.
I have to admit - I wasn’t sure what I’d have to offer in this setting, or that I’d make the time to do it. I keep busy playing shows, teaching a variety of music lessons, doing recording sessions and tuning pianos. I’ve written a few handfuls of poems, but am largely a songwriter and musician. As an educator, I have been able to edit a lesson or class agenda by “reading the room.” In recording sessions, I sometimes enter with my own ideas but am used to being flexible, knowing that it’s all about reading what the artist envisions. As a piano tuner, I know that every instrument I’m about to meet has it’s own quirks, and ends up teaching me what I need to know to make it work and sound like it’s intended.
And as a performer, I am usually able to gauge and choose paths for the words escaping my mouth by looking out at an audience of people. In some cases, there have been so many sets of eyes staring back at me that I have to find someone to focus on - someone that can help me stop myself from turning off my vulnerability switch…someone who will keep me present.
In all of these instances, I can’t alter what I’m doing without my eyes seeing what is happening with the instruments or people.
I’ve had the privilege of sharing the stage with some incredible artists at stunning venues, playing sold out shows. And yet, somehow, writing this is more intimidating.
I can’t see you. I can’t hug you after seeing tears stream down your face from learning we have a shared experience. I can’t feel your energy, which has helped lead me in life at almost every turn. But it’s time for a new chapter - a new kind of vulnerability. Where sharing stories about my life isn’t accompanied by music or a friendly face I can find across the room…where I am that much more encouraged to write without any rhyme schemes or catchy melodies.
It’ll just be me. It’ll be honest. And I’m so ready.
My kind of community
I’m so looking forward to joining this community of people - sharing about connections I’ve made with family and friends for the last 33 years, challenges in my love life, how and what I write about in songs and poetry (also sharing songs and poetry), about my love of cats, about traumas I’ve endured, about Weary Ramblers, about being a vegetarian, about my connection to energy, about life on the road, about being sober…about things I didn’t even know I wanted and needed to explore and share.
Every Sunday
My intention is to post every Sunday. If you’re interested in being a paid subscriber, my plan is to send you a full poem or a recording of a song I’d written that month. Some other ideas may also come to mind down the road! Extra generous folks have some special “rewards” they can choose from - including but not limited to, a private solo house concert, if you’re within a few hours of my Southwest Iowa town.
But please understand - I’m not doing this for the money. I love pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. Sharing in this way will do that, and undoubtedly fuel new inspiration.
See you in a week
If you’re reading this, thank you. I’m honored. And I can’t wait to continue on this journey via Substack with all of you! We’ll see what next Sunday brings.
To learn more about myself, follow my show schedule and hear my music: Kathryn Severing Fox's website
Photo by Andy Lyons
Of course, you draw us in with your candor and vulnerability. I'm thrilled to be on this path with you, even just a little bit.
Welcome. Have fun.