Sometimes when you're overwhelmed by a situation - when you're in the darkest of darkness - that's when your priorities are reordered.
Phoebe Snow
I faded away for a while out of necessity.
It's no sin to admit that you feel vulnerable and lost.
I lost interest in being in the public eye.
The most common misconception about me is that I'm basically a jazz singer.
Give me a strapless gown and a rhinestone-studded guitar and some 55-year-olds in my audience, along with their kids and grandkids. Don't give me 'boogie'!
I know there's a consciousness energy that operates completely independent of the physical body you inhabit, that maintains... awareness after the body's gone.
I realized that I've lived half my life already, and it's time to believe in - and stand up for - myself.
I was totally ignored for a while... that's a hazard of signing with a small company who say how small they are and how close to the artists they are. Suddenly they don't have any time for you.
I'm not a folk or jazz singer, more a hard-edged pop singer - with some rock, and song hooks.
If the baby is sick, you won't find me showing up to play my gigs. If I have a contract, there is going to be a clause in that contract saying that if the baby is sick I will not appear.
I've sort of made up my mind that I have to do my career and I have to be a mother. These are my two responsibilities; of course the baby comes first.
With my quick success, I didn't have time to learn the ropes of the music business. Because my first record was such a hit, I was terribly spoiled and I thought I couldn't do anything wrong. I was also desperate to make tons of money because of my responsibility to my daughter. And there was no longer any joy in making music.
The thing that helped me come to terms with performing was an anxiety, a desperation for acceptance. There was never enough positive motivation in my life.
Back then, I was an acoustically-oriented artist. Honestly, 'Poetry Man' wouldn't have been my first choice.
The first album was a very successful record. It made me very visible and it's an immediate association, but I don't do that anymore. Now I'm true to myself as an artist again. I'm more vocally oriented.
My life was very tenuous last year. My daughter's death, in March in 2007, was unexpected. It was a shock. I didn't know if I'd survive it.
Once I get out onstage, it's the same sort of basic production that it is anywhere else. But I might be a little bit aware that there might be people I know out there, who wondered where I was.
I would like to do something autobiographical, set to music. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to try.
There's a fascinating school of thought that some women are relationship addicts. You get really strung out on a guy who's not returning your enthusiasm and tell yourself you're going to fix him and make him better, and of course it's impossible.
I wanted to be the greatest woman guitarist alive. I had fantasies about being a female Jimi Hendrix.
All of my life, when things got too difficult, I folded up the tent and went to bed. I couldn't stand a challenge... I was terrified of confrontation. I was very laid-back, and just wouldn't get involved or fight back.
There were times when I had maybe a couple of hundred dollars, and times I made myself think I was on top of the world.
A friend hipped me to hypoglycemia, which an article I read calls 'a disease for a nation of sugar junkies.' Who knows how many people in this country have it?
