I Am A Woman, I Make Mistakes.

For Me, Hair Is An Accoutrement. Hair Is Jewelry. It's An Accessory.

I've Been Around The World And I've Had Bras Made In Different Places, And Each Time I'm Experiencing The Same Troubles: The Painful Shoulders, The Underwire Cutting Into My Flesh.

I Think What Irks Me Is That I Feel Like Women Are Really Being Compartmentalized Physically, And It's Been Done So Much That Now We're Doing It To Ourselves. I Don't Like It.

I Didn't Leave Home Until 27. I Was An Only Child Raised In Philadelphia By My Mother And Grandmother. My Grandmother Controlled The Stove. She Made A Lot Of Potato Meals - Mashed Potato, Potato Souffle, Potato Pancakes. When We Didn't Have Electricity We Ate Romantically, By Candlelight.

Heartbreak Was The Impetus To Me Writing Poems And Music In The First Place. Over The Years, I Had My Heart Broken So Badly That If I Didn't Find A Way To Get All The Pain Out, I Was Going To Lose My Mind. I Was Crazy! Like, Wanting To Slash Tires And Smash Car Windows. Crazy! I Was So Hurt That I Had To Write.