Dear Reader,
After five straight weeks on tour, I found myself hyperventilating on the side of the road. Crying on the wrong-side passenger seat of the British rented sprinter van, humiliated, my brain defying my strict orders to continue on.
I tried to focus on the serene country side that winded around us, speaking in gasps and maybe- slow motion? Felt a little bit like when I smoked some weed laced with PCP when I was 13, everything unraveling, wound down and the tape playing all fucked up. I think I was saying “I just don’t feel right. Like, in my head.”
Luckily, my crew is kind and understanding. Luckily, we were staring straight at an ending point and had three glorious days to explore and relax in Porto, Portugal to look forward to. I drank a shit ton of water, a lot of slow breathing. Slept harder than I had in months.
Tour can be hard, it can also be transformative, a real good one is normally both. This year has been everything so far. I am doing my best to be out in the world and taking the opportunities before me. But like any work, it deserves some balancing and some serious consideration of my fragile human-ness. This reflection has led me to write lists about what is actually important to me.
Have you done this recently? Have you tried after logging off socials?
When I have, I notice my spirit will be totally out of whack. Imagine one of those plexiglass containers filled with money flying in the air, and my mind is in there just grabbing fist fulls of whatever it can touch. The money is not just cash: it’s ambitions, goals, desires. Honestly a bunch of shit that isn’t what I actually care about, but somehow I’m in there hurting myself for it. It’s humbling.
I’ve been interested to see a shift in culture around touring musicians and our mental health, there’s a great article written by the legend Jenn Pelly you can read here. Of course, it’s still hard and embarrassing to be open about it. So I appreciate all the working musicians out there who have started up the conversation publicly, and all the listeners like you, who genuinely care about the well being of the artists you love.
It all leads to why I started this Substack, a way to communicate with you that isn't lined with distractions and comparison pitfalls. Isn't the goal to focus our attention to the core of our life? To what really matters to us? Easier said than done, it's a practice. Resist Psychic Death means that to me. (Thank you as always, Bikini Kill. )
I’ll end this first post with some highlights of the trip in Porto, where I found what I was looking for: Inspiration, a connection to something greater.
I might spend the next letter telling you more about it. My time there was everything I needed. We all went to see a Yayoi Kusama exhibit at the Serralves Museum, but also found a current show of political art from the Carnation Revolution- which I want to learn more about.
In the vast and famous garden on the property there was also a very touching show by two artists I will now follow forever- João Pedro Vale + Nuno Alexandre Ferreira. The leather jacket installation spoke to me in profound ways, I felt so known in the space they created. I cried as I held the leather jacket of bell hooks. A portal was opened to communication with our queer ancestors. I got all the comfort and nourishment I needed from that work.
don’t take any shit,
xo alynda mariposa segarra xo
I’ve been listening to you since Small Town Heroes and seeing you every time you come to perform in NYC! I love your work more with each new album because I feel so connected to your work. Thanks for your vulnerability in sharing with us here. Those jackets are beautiful and def remind me of you. P’alante siempre❤️
Thanks so much for your fantastic post and for doing substack. I'm a long-time songwriter/musician, and when I first heard "The Past Is Still Alive," my first thought was that you're the songwriter I've been waiting to hear for for a long time. Truly inspiring and a real expansion of the universe via music.