Emma Cloutier

Music touches me in a way most other things can't. When I can't speak, I can sing. When I can't think, I can write. I like to see it as my subconscious's way of telling me who I am when my conscious mind could not figure it out to save its life. It is my hope that my music not only dances pleasantly all over a listener's ear drums, but also penetrates to depths of his heart he didn't even realize existed--to awaken something that was put to sleep, voluntarily or otherwise. We all go through s...

Music touches me in a way most other things can't. When I can't speak, I can sing. When I can't think, I can write. I like to see it as my subconscious's way of telling me who I am when my conscious mind could not figure it out to save its life. It is my hope that my music not only dances pleasantly all over a listener's ear drums, but also penetrates to depths of his heart he didn't even realize existed--to awaken something that was put to sleep, voluntarily or otherwise. We all go through storms we think will never end. The waves kick up, overturn our ships, we drown, wash up on the beach, choke up the water, and move on. My songs talk about a broad swath of subjects--from love and loss, confusion and desperation, and even one or two light 'political' ditties. To say that my music is a direct result of my expertise in channeling emotions and thoughts would be absurd--it is more of a direct result of my choice to use the gift that Jesus Christ gave to me. I'm just a girl who plays some music. Here is my diary. Do with it what you will. Emma