Emma Scott

Cursing at every red light while wanting to cry like a baby because I’d found her.

My scattering thoughts imagined it would be peaceful and quiet inside one of those paperweights. I could float weightless in a glass ocean, suspended in beauty, surrounded by color and stillness. No noise. No pounding drums or tearing riffs or screaming fans. Just…silence

Vulnerable and tough at the same time.

She seems lost…

“Thanks for being a good guy, Jonah. There’s a shortage in the world.”

I felt nothing. No dread. Not even fear. I was beneath fear. Numb.

Only we didn’t have time. Anything we started was just going to be torn up again

“Feel that?” Kacey asked. “That’s the night dying a slow and painful death

Her eyes grew soft and she watched the water dance, but I could look nowhere but at her. The show was at my periphery, a backdrop to her.

I try to follow it, instead of forcing it to be what it doesn’t want to be.”

all the pieces of your talent—singing, guitar, songwriting…They’re scattered all over, like my installation. Or a constellation. Put them together…”