I wanna be on the road to Livingston (or anywhere, really).

A lot of the songs on my new EP are about what I call my “incurable restlessness.” This one, Road to Livingston, was released about a week ago, and is just so appropriate for the time we are in right now. (I’m referring of course to the Covid-19 pandemic, in case you’re reading this years from now, or have been living under a giant rock.)

I’ve always had a turbulent spirit, one that longs to be anywhere other than where I am. Ironically, this quality is both my favorite thing about myself, and also the most frustrating. It makes me adaptable, adventurous, and spontaneous, all things I love. But it also makes me continually dissatisfied, distracted, and, at times, ungrateful for the beauty and joy in the here and now.

I wrote RTL way back in 2013. It’s the oldest song on the Evening EP. It began as an assignment in my lyric writing class at Belmont University during my final semester. The assignment was to go to the Frist Art Museum in Nashville and simply “be inspired.” (Side note: if you are an appreciator of art and you’ve never been to the Frist, you are sorely missing out.) Well, when I went alone on that cool Thursday in October, I wasn’t feeling particularly inspired. I walked around aimlessly, observing landscapes and portraits and still lifes and photographs. They were beautiful, and they each had a story to tell- just not stories that I felt compelled to write. Until I happened on a rather small, unassuming photo entitled “Road to Livingston, Montana” by Jack Spencer (below).

This simple photograph, devoid of any subject or discernable story, hit me in a surprisingly emotional place. I knew as soon as I saw it that Jack Spencer and I are the same. Restless. Longing. Just. Wanting. To. Go. Why else would he be compelled to take this picture? So I went home and I wrote the song. At its heart, Road to Livingston is a fantasy. It explores how it would really feel if I followed that urge to drive away, and drive far, destination arbitrary. What would be sacrificed? Who would be left behind? …But what would be gained? What new adventures could be had?! What new friends could be made? What new stories could be told? What new…? That feeling of newness is tantalizing, no matter how temporary. These are the thoughts that move me, that keep me up at night, dreaming of all the possibilities.

So, as you can imagine, this song has been present on my mind as of late, not only because I just put it into the world, but because I relate to it more now than ever. This time of pause, of solitude, of “nothing happening” has been a big challenge for me. I’m working to appreciate the quiet. I’m spending more time with my mom. I’m writing songs and plays and blog posts (hello). And I take comfort knowing I’m not the only one who feels this way. I know a lot of you out there understand exactly how I’m feeling. I see you. We are apart, but we are together.

And when this is all over, my hugs and road trip offers will be free and infinite.

Until then.

-Em

P.S. You can go listen to Road to Livingston riiiiiight here. ;)