- How did you arrive in Eureka Springs?
Sight unseen. I’d never set foot in Arkansas. A friend mentioned Eureka Springs might be a good landing pad after my divorce, and that night I had a dream so vivid it felt like instructions. I packed up and came. The mountain was right.
- What achievement are you most proud of?
Raising my daughter to be a sovereign soul — a sentient, free-thinking human being who questions everything, including me. She heads off this fall to study geological engineering and watching her take flight is the proudest thing I’ll ever do.
- Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Definitely. And here’s the thing — I was heavy for a period of my life, and I still went in the water. I’ve since lost 85 pounds, but the lesson came before the loss: don’t wait for your body to make your life colorful. Live fully within any vessel you inhabit. The water doesn’t care, and neither should you.
- What female songwriter do you most relate to?
Not a single one — isn’t that odd? I’ve never had one. My soundtrack is a djembe drum and whatever the wind is doing. Maybe I was always meant to make my own rhythm rather than borrow someone else’s.
- What’s the most important character trait you want from a partner?
Honestly? I can’t imagine a partner right now — no one has interested me in years, and I’ve come to love the freedom of my own company. Any future man would have to grant me enormous space and latitude in how I live my life. He’d need to be inspiring, passionate, and a consolation, not a complication. I fought hard to unwind into who I am.
- Do you have a hidden talent people might be surprised to know?
Everyone knows me from the outlandish costumes in the parades — but what nobody knows is I’d never made a costume in my life before moving here. Something about this place uncorked it. The creativity just erupted, like it had been waiting for the right mountain.
- What six people, dead or alive, would you invite to your dinner party?
I genuinely don’t fangirl anyone, living or dead — so no famous names at my table. The first seat goes to my father. He died while I was pregnant with my daughter, and he’s still the person who influenced me most in this world. The two of them missing each other by months is the great heartbreak of my life — so I’d seat her right next to him and just let them talk. And I’d leave one chair empty for whoever the dream sends next.
Liberalism is a mental disorder.