[Transcript edited for clarity]

Absent Sounds: To start off, I think it would be nice if we began with your very first musical memory.

Half Waif: My mom likes to say that I came out singing. From a very immediate early age, I was singing, and I remember I would just make up little songs about my surroundings. It was the way I processed this new input, making songs about it. It was just part of my moving through the world to sing and live it through music. That's how I came into this world and never really stopped.

Absent Sounds: Sometimes a tune I used to sing when I was younger will come back to mind. Is there anything that still sticks with you, or have all those little tunes been forgotten?

Half Waif: I'm sure they're in my musical DNA. I have a 15-month-old son now, River, and we sing to him all the time, since he was in the womb. We sing this goodnight song that goes "goodnight River." It's a really simple melody. Everyone knows this tune and has probably made up some kind of iteration of it. Just yesterday, for the first time, he sang the melody. I'm still so tickled that now he goes around the house singing it. That feels like a very primal collection of notes, probably something I was singing or had sung to me as some kind of lullaby when I was a baby. To pass the torch to my son and have him sing it back is really beautiful.

Absent Sounds: Hopefully one day that will be a core memory for him. There's so much we want to dive into, but I'm going to start by asking you about the general themes of the album. When we first read through your press release and the books you had mentioned, they really moved me. I needed to read "The Wild Edge of Sorrow," for example.

Half Waif: Amazing. I'm so glad you read that book. "The Wild Edge of Sorrow" by Francis Weller is such an amazing book on grief and how it is a collective experience that often happens in isolation these days. Historically, there were rituals around grief where if someone went through a loss and needed to wail, they would come together with the community and everyone would wail. It's a way of saying, "I see you, I'm with you, your loss is my loss." We don't have that space anymore. Those rituals aren't woven into our everyday life. We're experiencing various forms of loss and grief in isolation from one another. I think art is a way that actually brings us together in that experience. I was moved by that book in a moment of my life when I experienced, I think, one of the deepest griefs I had thus far and found a lot of solace. I felt really seen by that beautiful book. I'm glad you read that too.

Absent Sounds: There's a quote I love where he says, "Grief leads us back to our body through its wild, turning, heavy, twisting presence. And through the body, we are brought back to the greater conversation with the living world." How did you find your body's experience of loss finding its way into your music? It's almost like the duality of carrying loss and carrying creation at the same time.

Half Waif: That's a really beautiful quote and question. Thank you. There's a lot to unpack there. For people who don't know, when I set out to write this record, I was approaching a period of my life when I was going to become a mother. I was entering this rite of passage, and that's how the record started. It was going to be this very hopeful, gossamer, shimmering album - that's what I was envisioning, something light, peering through the bright fog of the future. But the universe has its own designs. I did get pregnant quickly, but then experienced a loss which we didn't find out about until we were at the first ultrasound. It was such a shocking moment because there was no indication anything was wrong. It was very disorienting to be told there's no heartbeat, and to experience the brutality of being a body carrying a life that was no longer alive. The nature of the record shifted. Speaking to your question about what it is to embody grief, I'm so grateful that I have music as a place to go because feelings of loss and grief transcend words. Even now, saying the word grief over and over again, I feel like it's losing its meaning. It's loss and grief and loss and grief - I'm continuing to use these words that feel so flat. But it's so colored, right? When you go through loss, it's a rainbow of emotional experience, and music has become the vehicle to explore this really vivid tapestry that, even now, I'm struggling to find the language for. our bodies have experiences communicated through art and music in a way language doesn't suffice. I turned to songwriting right after that. The first track on the album is called Fog Winter, Balsam Jade. I wrote that two weeks later. the rest of the record followed through that winter, talking about being embodied in loss. I, Had a bad recovery from this miscarriage didn't recover for an entire season, an entire winter, my body didn't recover, which was confusing and isolating it's wintertime, there's already no signs of life or growth. And so it was this mirroring of nature and my body being frozen, unable to move on. Music was really like this excavation tool to try to dig underneath this frozen earth and find the life force there. And ultimately I did. The last line of the record is, I'm gonna love my life. It was a time of searching for joy love and faith. When all of that was taken away, but still wanting to find it again.

Absent Sounds: Especially when you say I'm gonna love my life. I remember when I heard that line, I played it again. Cause I was like, wow, it just really hit. For a long time or recently,I don't want to die, but I feel this inclination that I'm just tired of it.

Half Waif: Totally. I just got chills when you said that. I remember this winter, a month after the miscarriage, my mother in law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was like being hit when you're down feeling like I thought in my like naive heart that the universe was more due to judicious than that, that you couldn't get like two pieces of terrible news within weeks. And it doesn't work that way. I felt pummeled and for the first time had a sobering thought where I didn't want to die, but I didn't know how to live. People, would say live in the moment, and I found the moment to be the least hospitable place, I couldn't be in the moment because it did not feel like a home, not a comfortable place. It felt like the first time in my life when Ideeply understood that feeling of, how do I live when my life does not look anything like I thought it would, and I don't want to be here. My full name is Ananda, and it means divine joy in Sanskrit. It came to my mom in a dream, her guru said, call her Ananda. I bear this name of joy and try to uphold that but this was a moment when it was very hard to find it was not present in my days It was not present in the landscape. It wasn't something I could reach for, so it was a journey to find it again, but I made that declaration. I'm gonna love my life, despite it all. That felt like planting a flag in the sand. Ultimately, that's what I hope the music can do for other people First and foremost, I write for myself but I do think about the messaging with all of my albums, but I want to create some ultimate message of hope or movement forward and that it doesn't. It's not immobilizing it feels galvanizing. So that felt like a nice way to end the album.

Absent Sounds: I love not necessarily trying to communicate overall happiness, but more this feeling of hope or reaching towards hope. Weajue sent me this video of Jon Foreman was talking about how whenever he's writing, he tries to write hopeful song rather than a happy song, because he doesn't trust a happy song. I guess just the idea of trying to reach towards hope. And then in that way, you find joy in the hopefulness. It resonates more in a certain way.

Half Waif: Absolutely, yeah, that speaks to our experiences being more colorful nuanced and varied than adjectives- happy, sad. It's so much more a rainbow. I was thinking a lot about the maypole; a song called collecting color and sunset hunting collecting colorful experiences that bring us together in this braid of emotion and experience

Absent Sounds: yeah, exactly. And I guess we'll go into the second book it's more of an essay. Nothing Personal, James Baldwin, where you mentioned embracing life, even in terrible places. It feels like a guiding force throughout the album. What were the places where you were embracing life through throughout this experience of, grief or the miscarriage that you were going through and feeling in the darkness?

Half Waif: That time of my life, felt very, shut down. I thought I was moving into this period of a lot of excitement and like physically like my body growing and there'd be like all this like movement and like I'm building towards the summer when I'm going to have a baby and like suddenly everything was immobilized. The place where I felt I could most embrace my life and felt most embraced by life was in nature. I live in upstate New York in a small town. I keep saying in interviews, cause it's true. I'm looking out at these trees and a river. I live surrounded by woods and can lose myself in these places. Nature was a mirror for me. It was brutal to have this happen in wintertime. I remember just being like, oh, come on, if this happened in spring and the birds are returning and the flowers are coming out, it would have been a very different experience. I think I would have gotten to a place of feeling uplifted. Instead I had to find it, but life is there in the winter. It's just not as obvious, embracing life means discovering it in places where it isn't obviously there for you. It takes time. It takes some digging, an open heart. I went into the world with that feeling of I'm gonna go and I'm gonna hunt sunsets. I can't see sunsets here at our house, we have so many trees that the sky is too shaded. So I'd literally get in my car at 4pm in the wintertime, that's when the sun is setting, get in the car. At four, drive around these country roads trying to find the sunset, watch the sunset, and just eat it up. It felt like this, benediction. I needed to see that, and feel the color, and feel the power of this thing, every night, this ritual. It wasn't just I couldn't immediately find it. I had to go out seek scratch drive walk around pick up rocks and discover. I'm realizing that's the description of the creative process too, right? There was a beautiful interplay between my communication with nature, my relationship with nature, and my writing at this time.

Absent Sounds: I think the fact that it happened during that season, those elements came into play during that specific season, may have been something you needed to experience too.

Half Waif: Absolutely. It can be a little trite to be like, I had to go through this thing I had to learn these lessons. How much do I believe in a sentient universe looking out for us or has plans for us? I don't know exactly where I've landed. I'm a little bit wiser and older now but I've retained the sense you have to place your faith in something, whether that's organized religion or what. For me, its nature. Even if these signs aren't for me I can find the lesson in it, and there is wisdom to be derived from that. But I agree with you. I look back at that time, and it was incredibly hard, but there were so many gifts. I remember talking to my therapist at the time and she was like, the resilience that you're learning through this, or you're gonna learn through this will make you a better mother. At the time, I was like, no! I don't want to have to go through this I'm gonna be a great mom no matter what. But I think she was right, and I would amend that to not just resilience, but, a story of surrender and letting go. My dad's a Buddhist and there are references to Thich Nhat Hanh who passed away that January, a day after my mother in law's diagnosis when I was in the heart of everything and he passed and I was thinking a lot about lessons of continuation letting go and just non attachment and I, I am definitely a quite a controlling person. I am a bit type A I love planning. I recognize it is a way to feel safe, but it's an illusion and can fall apart at any moment I don't think I had experienced that extent. Now being a mother, it's about surrendering to chaos especially with a newborn. You're not on any schedule, just the baby's, That was a big lesson for me in there. And I do look back with gratitude that I, was able to learn that, and I'm not sure how else I would have, honestly. I'm sure it would have happened in one way or another, but it was something I needed to go through. Maybe that's just self preservation. We have to look back at those experiences and say yes, it did make me stronger. Though, I will say, there was a moment And I find that I want to remember these things, and that's what's beautiful about songs they're archives of the time, because I think it's really easy in retrospect, to whitewash it and be like, it was hard, but I got through it. That's why I love songs, or journaling. Creating a personal archive. It's important to honor ourselves and who we were and what we were going through, to say- that was real too. We are real now, but that was real too. I do remember having this moment that year of being like, What if this doesn't make me stronger, it just makes me sadder? And that breaks my heart to remember. Because I was just like, what if I'm going to be a sadder person forever. Because I have gone through this. I don't think I'm a sadder person, but I think I'm a richer person. And it goes back to that idea of color and depth and I think I've gone to a farther edge of sadness now. I know the terrain more intimately, I've traversed farther in that land of grief than I had before, but that means that I also have encountered, other gifts and lessons and things along the way. So sadder is not the right word, but richer, smarter, maybe.

Absent Sounds: This season of my life, I was thinking of it more as maybe I'm becoming more tender, it feels really painful in certain spots, but it's also I think I need to be softer. I remember I got like a letter from myself in the past. I send letters to future me a lot and I got one and felt so calloused. I was just reading it I was like, wow, I know I'm so young. Why am I so hard on the outside?! I remember saying I just want to be soft! Crying "I just want to break through this" and whatever happened this summer really did break me down but to a point to massage those hard bits. It's gonna be painful to make those callous parts dissipate

Half Waif: That's so beautiful. Tender is a great word for it and I think I'm probably going to butcher this, but it's reminding me of some Buddhist teaching that's it's about how we're all these we come into the world as rocks with hard edges, and the more time we spend with each other we smooth each other down and become like river rocks our edges become smooth, through our interactions and relationships. And I think that's what you're speaking to. It's not only going through our own experiences of grief that make us tender, it's knowing that it is part of this human condition. When you're saying I went through the season of my life whereI was broken down- I get it. I don't even know the circumstance and I feel it. We see each other more. We understand each other. And that is, such a powerful byproduct of these times that can feel isolating is like actually it's connecting us in this really deep way.

Absent Sounds: Choosing to still love or hold space for love even when there is so much that can be taken away from you and not allowing it to make you calloused is hard. You can say I'm gonna withdraw. I'm never gonna hold anything tightly again because it can be taken away, but, you just end up leaving yourself in a place where you're not open to, bumping into other rocks or being able to connect with other people through those experiences and not allowing them to make you calloused. [Weajue] A lot of the tracks and the lyrics, when we were going through them,touch quite a bit on impermanence of things and, lost and letting go. We've already been talking about phases and transitions in life, so I think maybe we'll jump into a little bit of fluidity and water.

In the songs King of Tides, Violet Light, and Ephemeral Being, you have a lyric that say, "I dreamed of the king of tides pushing me around, or the violet light of the sea takes hold and fog drips through the sky." Such beautiful imagery. I love the way you craft your lyrics to create a vivid image water often shows up in your lyrics, whether it's a tide, as a fog, as river. How does that fluidity of water mirror the emotional states you explore in your songs.

Half Waif: Thank you for that. My son's name is River. So clearly it does factor in a lot. We also live on river street, so there's a river right outside yeah, so it is a very present, like literally a present part of my life. And was a present part of my life walks to the river were part of my healing. beyond that, I've recognized that throughout my discography, water tends to be, the element that comes through the most. I was imagining for this record I was picturing my four main records Lavender was water, the caretaker was earth, mythopoetics was fire, and see you at the maypole would be air. And I think I was thinking about air specifically because this idea of bright fog, so you're totally spot on about fog. I remember that time of year, it's this wet winter. There's fog over the icy fields, but the sun is like behind it trying to push through and it's such a beautiful image of like again, like that hope like the sun's rays like from behind, but you can't see it. It's luminous, but there's no clarity. And I think that was like a feeling I wanted to ultimately inject into the music and I remember at one point being like, how do I take this like heaviest material of my life and make it light like air. I didn't want to communicate the weight I felt. Only the lift that would come after. Like a future projection. So yeah, a song like figurine, like really trying to think about have a sense of like weightlessness and everything's like turning around. And yeah, I don't know how successful that was, but it was in the back of my head. Zubin, my co producer, and I talked about injecting a sense of air and lift to to the arrangements and like the way that we are approaching the songs. But I think that's just to say elements in general are very present with me when I'm writing. The fluidity of water plays in terms of the idea of surrender -you go where the river takes you you don't get to choose its course. It's funny. Cause I ended up teaching a course for kids on water at this local school called Kites Nest. It was looking at the many forms of water and its capacity for transformation. I think is it's just such a powerful idea that this thing that is so soft and malleable is also so strong and capable of storms and floods there might be something in there about staying soft And embracing that idea. There's a lot of lessons in water we are mostly made up of water, A Lot of creation myths start with water, dark water. I think that's embedded in the world. In the collective psyche we come from waterancient civilizations, creation myths are about water. I think that's something really powerful that makes its way into, to all aspects of our lives.

Absent Sounds: Yeah. the idea that I am both the wave but also the ocean.

Half Waif: I am the wave and I'm ocean, the individual and the collective. And you just reminded me of another thing that I was thinking about and I'm really just try to embody is the image of the wave, having its natural ebbs and flows and ups and downs and recognizing that that was a really hard time in my life, and just because I got a baby at the end and my mother in law is still here which is all, if you had told me back then that's what my reality would be, I would have been, like, I can't believe it. But it's not to say I'm, good, done and dusted. I'm happy. I got my things. Life is good. I know I physically felt and emotionally lived the wave of life. I know the universe is gonna dump again, but hopefully I have the tools to meet it. It's beautiful that music is made of waveforms, In the way that we create and listen to music is we are experiencing the wave at all times.

Absent Sounds: I really love the idea of being true to the person that was experiencing all those, really difficult part, even when at the bottom part of the wave. Last year was really hard because our dad has chronic kidney disease, it was a really bad time around November, and just because our dad is still here, doesn't take away from the fact that it was a really difficult time, The low part of the wave, even if you come back, it doesn't mean it wasn't difficult.

Half Waif: It's so real to that experience. It's really potent. I'm sorry that you've been experiencing that and this is what I'm talking about when I say these are the conversations I want to be having on a regular basis and not because I'm morbid and I want to be talking about down things all the time, but it's amazing to think we're brave bodies moving through space and time I'm tearing up just thinking about it. Everyone is just caring so much. I find it a relief, when we see each other in those experiences. We're all moving through the world witha lot of weight, and I think we are, our connections that is the way in which we become the air, and that is, like, where the weightlessness happens in the sharing, in the sort of unloading of, like, all of the weight that we are carrying. I know it's hard to share. Thank you for sharing I understand anticipatory grief. I experienced that in my life, family and health thinking about the waves of water us being made of waterthe low point of the wave, becomes part of our body part of our archive. Our body language.

Absent Sounds: When you mention the weightlessness, that brings me back to the track Dust for reasons that, I don't know why, my brain just peaked upon that. I think maybe because Dust dances in sunlight, rain and stuff, but it also settles and it, there's a line where you mentioned dust gathering on the picture frame. And it feels like it carries the weight of things we left behind, but also the idea of continuing that memory. And I'm really interested on your ideas of time and how that was expanding and contracting through, throughout the album and just that.

Half Waif: Yeah I'm glad you pointed out Dust. Another instance of air. I was like, Oh, that's an air related thing. I started writing that song, because these guys were working in our basement. And there was a lot of dust particles in the air I was eating dust. Because it was everywhere. But I love how those moments that are like so mundane and so concrete become poetic metaphors it's a cool thing about the artistic process. Theres a line that, "how many times will I have to realize there are no timelines?" That was specifically about, having a baby, and I'm in my mid thirties, and it's gonna be too old, and, all of these things. Fears that I had, and suddenly you're thinking five years in the future. If I don't get pregnant now and then dah, and it spirals outta control and it's like you come back to the present, you're like, where was I just living? That was a whole other reality my brain is constructing. So two parts of how I wanna answer your question. One being that just having to like corral myself and rein myself back in from the tendency to project into the future and catastrophize if things don't happen the way that I think and I'm gonna be old and it's like, that really doesn't matter. Ultimately everyone has their own timeline. Also when in a crisis or devastating time.

Time feels so different. Even just recently, I got this tick borne illness. I'm fine now because I'm on doxycycline, but it was, five days of fevers. And in hindsight, I was like, five days? That's five days. It's not even a week. But when I was in it, I was like, this is my life. I can't go outside, I can't be with my son. Your life just contracts, the scope of your life becomes so small. When I look back, it was like, it was four months between when I had the miscarriage and when I ultimately got a second procedure to clear out my body, and five months till I got pregnant again. In retrospect, it was like, nine months, maybe, total. I realized it was nine months between the miscarriage and when I got pregnant again. That was its own gestation. something else grew in that time, something else was born, which is really interesting to think about. But yeah, I think there I have a tendency then to look back and almost minimize myself and be like, gosh, girl, you were making such a big deal out of it. I think that's a disservice because I think the nature of time does change with our perception, with our experiences, and that was a lifetime for me, It was nine months and nine lives. I lived so much in that time. Now the days are slipping by. That's also something about tides, right? there's the slow sucking motion Then there's the rush in and the nature of water and that way to move in different speeds and paces. I think that's how we live too.

Absent Sounds: As you were talking, I couldn't help but think about Cryptime. I was reading a book called Disability Visibility, which is a collection of essays on disability awareness and the ways that different people move throughout the world depending on their, their abilities. There's this essay that talks about crypt time and how it essentially does change the way that you navigate through time, whenever you're going through something. And I remember waiting for my dad at Dialysis one night. Dialysis is four hours, three times a week. I always thought of it as losing time. He can't spend time with us during those four hours. He can't be doing anything at home that he wants to be doing. But also, I remember sitting down talking to the other men waiting for dialysis about how those four hours there, while you might feel like you're losing time, you're gaining another day or maybe another few years of your life. So it's almost like you move through time in such a strange way When you're ill or when you're, going through grief, it's just that time is just such a strange little concept that we have. I know it's such a cliche to say but it really is and there's so many different ways that we navigate it when we're going through different things.

Half Waif: Totally. I think that, yeah, that's really amazing that it's like reorienting our brains, and I think that's where songwriting comes in. I'll just only speak for myself, songwriting is a tool of reorienting that brain where I was like singing "there are no timelines" I was feeling like there was timelines. That's what I was experiencing but it was almost like, yeah, having to choose to change the way that I was seeing it because like it was not hospitable for me to live in this moment. I was feeling like I was losing time, my friends were getting pregnant and having babies and I was being left behind which was so painful to feel. But ultimately now I look back and it was so built up in my head. I needed to find a different way to exist within time.

Absent Sounds: I think about the song, "Museum," it's such a beautiful song. How do you find which parts of your memories or which parts of those areas that, you can revisit without feeling, I don't know,

Half Waif: Reducing it? Yeah interesting question. I teach a songwriting workshop and talk about specificity choosing really specific moments that actually can end up standing for something so much bigger. And I feel like traditionally, I've not been good at it. I'm glad you picked that up in that song because it's a technique I'm trying to do more of. Selecting these moments that kind of end up standing for something so much greater is just like, it's a handy for, any kind of writing and it's something I'm thinking about more. When working on the record, I remember saying to a novelist friend I'm worried if I'm like too specific about like miscarriage, it's going to alienate people because, not everyone will experience that and he was like, there's something interesting that happens. It's like the more specific you get, the more people find themselves in your story. So it's this really cool thing that happens. I love where they name drop a street. And I'm like, I don't know what that street is. But I feel like I know that street in my town, even though it's a different name. It's our tendency to find ourselves in stories, it's something I've been thinking about as a lyricist. I'm glad you pointed that out.

Absent Sounds: When you mentioned the specificity- "I'm looking for the chackled on shirt sleeves." it's so personal and vivid. a lot of the actions you describe like rolling up my shirt sleeves to feel you closer those intimate gestures. Tell us about that, too.

Half Waif: That was interesting I started recording myself talking while driving. I did a lot of driving, looking for sunsets and needed motion. So I would just get in the car and drive a lot. But I was driving back from seeing my dad and recording, I was just recording myself talking about the experience. The experience of being present with him, but he is getting older, and has arthritis, and a few other health stuff, and just not knowing when it was going to be the last time that I was going to make that drive. We don't always know when things are ending. And I was just thinking about that wanting to honor that moment as I was driving home. Setting those voice memos to music and harmonizing the spoken word. That happens on a few songs it was a fun technique. I got that from memes now I sound so old. I don't know what you'd call those. They would take that video of the guy being "It's a double rainbow. Look at the double rainbow." And then set it to music. Taking the cadence of spoken word and making it into a melody came from, YouTube videos.

Absent Sounds: Are there any other, interesting random things that you can encounter in your daily life that you're like, I'll include this into my music or I include this into my work, or you think it'll translate, it translates well into your practice?

Half Waif: When I'm in the process of making I keep a note on my phone called whatever words and compile little poetry. I saw this cool word like phosphorescence or something and I just put it in there or like I'm thinking about viaducts and culverts. I don't know where that's gonna go, but just anything that pings in my brain that sets off a little spark will go into whatever words, and then when I'm writing later, I can open it and maybe have a starting point. But now it reads an archive of how my brain has worked over the years, which is wild. I don't date it, so I don't know exactly but I'm reminded of the time period when I wrote those things. just a way of collecting ideas and anything that resonates.

Absent Sounds: For the next track, I'm going to do Mother Tongue. It feels like a beautiful track about lineage, how you fall into that and self discovery. Can you tell us about that?

Half Waif: I'm glad, I think that might be my favorite track. I'm glad you singled that one out. I wrote that at a residency at U Cross in Wyoming. That's where I wrote Ephemeral Being and Mother Tongue. It's a very different landscape than where I live. Inspired by nature, it was cool to be, In this really different space the geology out there feels so ancient. There's something about such a blasted open, these the high plains of Wyoming, it's really vast, and you see the mountains in the distance, and the layers of the strata of the rocks I don't know. I think that there was some feeling of being in that place that felt so connected both to land and to time. That song was really looking at the role of the mother. And there's lines about my mother in law losing her hair. Mother earth, the blue whale the turtle dove animals big and small are threatened, their environments threatened, and looking at the, the chemicals that are thrown into the water, and the ways in which that changes the ecology of the landscape, and likening that to the red water that flowed from my body when I was having the miscarriage, and it all just felt very, very tied together. It came out very fast and also you see all these different points in your life and in time that just align. It was like an exploration of the mother earth, my own self as a mother and the mothers in my life. The mother tongue, the land is our first language. That's where we all come from this. This earth that we are supported by.

Absent Sounds: Is there anything about the record you didn't touch on that you think would be good to express

Half Waif: That's so sweet. I'm working on a book right now. It's a memoir about the same time period of my life. It's cool to be working on two projects about the same themes, but different art forms. So I guess it isn't anything that I wish I had put in the record. I'm able to use the book to go deeper on everything. I've never done that before. Certainly never written a book but even used creative writing as a way to borrow deeper into the themes, even for myself. It's not been part of my practice, but it's something that I think I'll be doing moving forward just because music has the capacity to convey emotion and story in one way, but then getting to use creative writing is like another, shift of the prism. Getting another angle on everything has been really helpful to my process of processing that year and like making sense of it and and ultimately being able to close that chapter and move forward.

Absent Sounds Thank you so much for all your insight and all the beautiful things that you were able to tie together through the record, because it ties deeply to our lives listening to it on repeat has been a pleasure. I appreciate it so much.

Half Waif: Thank you both. It was wonderful to chat and appreciate your thoughtful questions and close listening. And thank you to your listeners for tuning in.