I really wanted to make an elaborate family tree – yes, it’s that complicated – but for the sake of not leaving my tweeps hanging in a state of wonder, I gave up on that idea. I also realize this may be jumping the gun on our blogger/reader relationship. If you know me, skip to number 5. If you don’t know me, start here:
- My name is Melissa. Hi. I’m an artist (the musical kind), songwriter, cowgirl hippie, Martha Stewart wanna be, Wyoming native (hopefully the cowgirl hippie part makes sense now), self-proclaimed gourmet chef, gardener, fashionista, bookworm & lover of many great people & God.
- I live in Nashville. I create music I love – it’s my job.
- My parents are amazing & they introduced me to practically every type of music (expect for the “inappropriate” kinds) growing up. More on that later. Yes, I’m foreshadowing an upcoming post.
- I spent my summers as a teenager traveling around the western fair & rodeo circuit performing. I had the privilege of opening for several incredible country artists & bands that I admire. They shaped me, stretched me & inspired me to do what I do. Even more, I love genuine, honest, hardworking people & if you’re not sure they still exist, go to a county fair. They’re there.
- This week I am recording an EP. It’s been over 3 years in the making. I have the awesome privilege of working with Chad Carlson (my home boy’s got skillz, a.k.a. Grammy’s) & we are creating something REALLY exciting & different & me. You’re gonna love it!
Okay, now that’s out of the way, onto the baby making. Everyone keeps asking, “what’s your style?” Well… until you can hear it for yourself, I hope this will suffice:
If Nat King Cole & Shania Twain had a love child, it’d be me. Stay focused, it get’s more complicated, we’re a big family. Sara Barellis is my half sister, Chris LeDoux is my uncle (father in-law works too – those LeDoux boys are good lookin’), Sheryl Crow is my godmother, Billy Joe Shaver is my Grandpa’s brother, The Cardigans are second cousins, & I’d like to be Justin Bieber’s mother. #@*!, did I just type that? Too late.