MorganEve Swainis creating music, memoir
Select a membership level
With your $10 "membership", you'll gain access to what I'm going to call "blog posts". Weekly musings about life, some of which will probably show up in the book, a lot of which will not.
With a gift of $15 per month, I'll post a monthly cover song. Sometimes perhaps it'll be a home-video; other times a fully-fleshed out home recording with harmonies and strings and Zed barking in the background. What to expect: songs from my adolescence as a 90s kid into "grunge" and metal; songs that mean personal things to me, metal riffs attempted on bowed stringed instruments.
About MorganEve Swain
My name is MorganEve Swain. I live alone, with my little dog and loving cat, on the third floor of a house that sways when the wind blows and when the downstairs neighbors make love. Often, the movement of the house makes the water in the toilet bowl slosh faintly and I feel as if my treehouse-like apartment were really a boat at sea.
I have been a musician all my life, and have made my living that way since I was a teenager playing in Irish bars in Bridgeport Connecticut. The musical income is sporadic at best. To offset that unknown, I earn a part time wage working as a violin technician and learning instrument repair at a violin shop thirty minutes away.
I sometimes marvel at the ways in which I feel unprepared for life- I have atrocious math skills, problems focusing, ambition but not drive, ideas but not means, dreams but not goals.
Recently though-– no doubt a side effect of entering my thirties– I have come to realize that most adults never do have things all figured out, and if I can accept my life and income as something I will always be figuring out as I go, I have a chance at real happiness. (Of course, that doesn't stop me from searching for stability and looking at my wealthy neighbors with something closer to bewilderment than envy.) What surprises me now, is how much my idea of “stability” has changed in a short amount of time. It used to mean being with the man I loved: a partnership of intellect, romance, creativity and trust. Figuring it out as we went. The safety of knowing he was there. That I wasn’t alone.
And then, not suddenly but still shockingly, I was alone. My partner, in music, in love and life, died of leukemia in April of 2014. He was 36. I was 28.
We had spent the six short years we had together performing under the name Brown Bird, acquiring a comfortable and humbling fanbase and releasing three records together before Dave got sick. Our lives were so entwined, we functioned as a single being. Dave revealed in me a musician I hadn’t known was there; I nurtured his remarkable talent for music and words and bathed in his capacity to understand everyone around him.
There is a part of me that hates writing about Dave’s cancer. I hate defining myself by it. By the fact that he was here and now he isn’t. But that’s exactly what has shaken my sense of self and it is taking a long time to reconcile that my grief and sense of displacement are not signs of weakness but of love.
Just over a year ago, I felt the murky waters of intense grief begin to shift. For two solid years after Dave died, I had existed in such intense fog that reaching its edge felt like the uneasy state between sleep and waking. My gradual emergence from it felt like regaining consciousness and not knowing where or who I was. I’d lost my stability. I’d lost my bliss.
Now, finally settled into a solitary life, I am finding comfort in knowing I have only myself to rely on. Stability comes from within. And from the weird and creative ways we make money when being "a creative" is the only path you've ever known. I've always been a musician and I've always been a writer. This is my way of sharing my experience with others, in hopes that it will begin to illuminate the places that are still dark.
$770 of $1,000 per month
1 of 1
$1000 per month is the goal that would allow me to exist with some sort of financial stability. Right now, your generous patronage is essentially covering my rent, while my modest income as a violin technician, sometime restaurant hostess and the sporadic payments of a gigging musician provide the funds for utilities, vehicle maintenance, the student loans I'm still paying, and every day living expenses. My life is devoted to music and writing, both my own and the maintaining of the legacy of Brown Bird. It's the lifestyle I've always known, but that work is consuming and running a band business is expensive. I cannot express how appreciated your help is.