Two years ago I was watching the news in our hotel in Florida. Top of the cycle were stories about immigration. Immigrants were struggling to get across the border but the access was getting harder by the minute. The president…

“So . . . what comes first,” asks my friend Jim. “the lyrics or the melody?” 

“Both,” I say. 

They come at the same time, like orphaned twin angels. They come while I am walking, freed of…

Several years ago while sitting in a Costco parking lot, I started writing a song for my husband called "Traveler." I was trying to find a way to say "I love you" without saying exactly that…