Question: The theme for this year is Oregon Dreamer. How does your act reflect this?
Here's a blub I just wrote for The Bite Fesitval 2005, Portland, OR

"You can say I'm a dreamer, but i'm not the only one," borrowing a line from John Lennon's invincible song, Imagine. So , what is a dreamer? Is it someone who floats around like a cloud in a tangerine menagerie? Is it someone whose ambition drives them through life? Or is it a person who is off beat, odd and rare? In my opinion, a dreamer is all of them, because everyone, in his or her heart, is a dreamer. Some people are closet dreamers, hiding underneath a so called "real world"mentality. Others folks however, rambunctiously jump onto the magic quilt, and rollarcoaster up and down with their dreams for the entirety of their lives. Personally, once I started dreaming, I couldn't stop.

For as long as I can remember, and apparently (according to my parents) even earlier on in my life than that, I'd spend hours upon hours everyday, absorbed completely in a parallel universe, a playground of the imagination, that I created. This world existed whenever, wherever, and however I wanted it to, and could change with the drop of a word. Every day, I'd get home from school, descend the cold cement stairs that led down into my freezing basement a.k.a. "the mildew castle." I'd skip across the room, or slither depending on my mood, over to an old-fashioned chest, which sat, anxiously awaiting my arrival, mouth cracked ajar. Medieval dresses, fairy wings and ninga outfits rustled about in its stomach, bubbling over the edge and onto the floor. Dolls and swords contentedly played on the outskirts with abandoned scarves and shoes. My tinny hands would rummage through the costume, sifting through worlds and characters, emotions and adventures, and possible inspirations, there for the choosing. Once I'd pick something, I'd slip it on, proceed to climb out a window sliced into our laundry room, and thus catapult into a dreamlike trance with the imagination. For hours, I'd run around, dodging douglas firs, chickens, and blackberry bushes on our beautiful, two acre yard in Southwest Portland. Some days I was a princess, some days I was the witch, some days I was Lucille Ball, somedays Dorothy. I'd sing, dance, pretend...makeup songs and stories... sing, dance, pretend... and dream, dream, dream. At that tender age, I didn't know that I could create a career out of my dreaming, but when time came to put away my frog costume and slip into adolescence, teachers, theatres, and schools around Portland guided me in translating these dreams into a life. I started performing in plays, in musicals, at local coffee houses with my guitar and piano, in Washington DC at the Ace Pilots WWII convention ...all over the place! I began molding a life where, being a musician, performer, and archeologist of human experiences/emotions, became the shoes that guide my every step.

It might sounds like a bit of a cliche, but I think growing up in Portland is highly responsible for feeding me the courage to go for my goals and "Just Do it!" So many people have the talent, but have forgotten how to dream. Portland seems like a nest for dreamers. It supports you while you incubate, helps you crack out of the egg once your ready, and then, if you want, tie-dies your feathers beautiful colors, and watches you fly.

Now, finishing up the last few months of my 18th year, I've cracked myself out of the egg, and started sprouting wings. I've created my own style of music that expresses myself, my dreams, my quirky humanness, my thirst to travel , my hunger to love, laugh, cry and say 'ya mahn' like a Jamaican. I couldn't have gotten this far, and created what i've created if, too childlike and ambitious by some standards, I'd been booted out of the nest before sprouting some wings. Yeah Portland! So how does my act at this years Bite 2005 reflect an Oregon Dreamer? Well I guess I just am one, and my songs are written to encourage everyone else to be one too, cause it's just so much more fun! I'll be the beach-loving, bluesy, song writing, young girl , whose carrying her guitar and piano, wearing flip-flops and a Costa Rican necklace. Pura Vida!