BioPage

Bio

If you insist. But I'm not that exciting. Really.
Don't say I didn't warn you.

My earliest memory is standing next to my grandparents who were sound asleep on the guest bed of the
house we lived in, early in the morning, wishing they would wake up and read this book to me that I was
holding. It was a Little Golden Book, "The Cow Went Over the Mountain."   (For years all I could
remember the picture on the front of that book--not the title or anything. Then I ran into a copy of it in
Saver's one day last year and about passed out. It was like finding the Grail of my childhood. Of
COURSE I bought it.)   Anyway, I was so young I had to climb out of a crib to get there, and I really had
no idea who these people were, but they'd read the book to me before I went to bed, so I figured they
might oblige once the sun came up... My mother tells me that I was about a year and a half old, then...

I went to grade school and had some amazingly great teachers. One of them taught me how to play flute.
Another nurtured the love of books my parents and grandparents gave me. I still play flute... I still love
books.

I went to Junior High and had some amazingly good teachers and some scary ones.

In High School I was a shitty student, so I'm no good judge of my poor teachers at that point. I more
clearly remember experimenting with illicit substances and exercising my extremely well-developed teen
libido. (You can't see me but I'm rolling my eyes while I type those words.)   I was a rotten kid. Luckily I
survived it and came out on the other side mostly intact. Lots didn't. I remember most of their names.

Fast-forward through some years of striving to initiate and win a pissing-match with a universe that refused
to take it personally no matter what I did.

Did some college--started out as a Social Work major--wanted to eventually get a Masters in Substance
Use Disorders counseling until I realized I just didn't have it in me then. So I became an English Ed major
because if you tell people to read Chaucer and they don't, the chances of them dying from it are slim. And I
love the written language. I just do. Deal with it.

And then I ran out of money and quit college and went to work as a nanny for $35.00 a week, anyway.
'Nuff said.

And then--get this--because 20-some years of mileage can sure change your perspective, and because Life
has a perversely ironic sense of humor, I found my way back into the study of Substance Use Disorders
counseling.   I am a state-certified Substance Abuse Counselor In Training working toward my next level
of certification, and I love this profession ferociously.

And I've been writing all along...poetry, bad poetry, really bad poetry...songs, crappy fiction and short
stories... And along the way I picked up a working knowledge of a couple instruments as well. And a lot of
nifty people taught me a lot of things and inspired me hugely and probably never even knew it: Howard
"Guitar" Luedtke, Susan Gifford, Peter Phippen, Denny "Mississippi River" Garcia, Kelley Sue and
Vina...

I joined a medieval historical society who may or may not wish to be mentioned here by name--I'll have to
check on that. It has been huge fun and introduced me to some fabulously gifted people, as well as some
fascinating period work. I'm hopelessly enamored of the culture and especially the literature of the Viking
Age Norse, and from it Wyndreth Berginsdottir has sprung fully formed. As Wyndreth I've written,
performed, and recorded some stuff that people haven't whipped rotten fruit at me for. Not yet, anyway.
From Wyndreth has come performance as "Savage Daughter" and "Shieldmaid" as well.

Through that medieval society, and due to great fortune, I met artist June Zenner--who can melt your face
off with sick-cool electric guitar, by the way. We liked the same music, and the first time we sang together
we LOVED it. We became "Twa Corbies" shortly thereafter and have been performing together for
almost a decade and a half, now. And singing with June still rocks.

And pretty much I'm here now. I like to write and sing and play because it's a cheap hobby, and because
it's a lot better way for me to keep things in perspective than a liter of Jack Daniels and a handful of
blue-and-clears ever were. Sometimes I hit on something other folks like too, and that's a bonus. And
sometimes--and I think any person who has an artistic blood cell in them will understand this--there are
those moments when something outside us comes in, seizes our mind and our body, infuses us with
something greater than ourselves, and speaks through us in whatever artform we practice. And I live for
those moments. Won't even try to temporize about that.

So that's me, pretty much. If you're after stat stuff, well, I guess the above probably bored the crap out of
you, didn't it?

I was born in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I mated for life; married to the bestest man in the world for more
than a decade, now. I love my family. I'm learning to drive a car. My most embarrassing moment is none
of your damned business unless you're in my dining room drinking coffee with me and you're willing to tell
me yours, too. I am a clergywoman of the Universalist Church of Life and the Humanist Church of Life. I
am afraid of spiders. I used to work for a veterinarian--a job I both adored and despaired of fiercely. And
as a floor clerk/cashier at a close-out retail store, and at a lampshade factory, and operating a glass
crusher at a recycling facility, putting my piece of college to good use, 'eh?

Words of wisdom? You came to the wrong place, friend. But I'll try:

Don't be a dumbass.
Don't be a victim.
Don't be a jerk.

Trust your instincts absolutely.
Howl at the moon and roll in the dew.
Sing as often as possible.

Fight for your life. Your beliefs. Your passions. Not for fun, and/or because you've left yourself no other
options.

There's always something out there waiting to put its hands on you if you let it. Don't.