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I know I sayI can’t go home again.It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because I can’t.I don’t know wherehome is for me.Because the only placethat has ever felt like homeisn’t a place.It’s a person on the screen.It’s a person on the radio.So I can’t go backto somewhere I wasnever allowed to go.
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This is not a “you have to believe what I do and that’s the only right answer” place. So if you’re here because of a random tag, and you’re going to start an argument, see your way out. Okay, now that it’s the real ones here, hi. I’m so sorry to do this to you.…
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There is a specific kind of safety in a pseudonym. A quiet place to put the words where they can’t burn you. I spent a lifetime just wanting someone—anyone—to look my way and acknowledge the noise in my head, but I was always too afraid to attach my own face to the melody.Then the phone…
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I don’t know what having a mom feels like, but I imagine it would feel like listening to you. On the screen, or behind the lyrics, you bring me that kind of peace. The sense of safety most grew up with, but I didn’t. Today is your birthday, and while I’ll never be able to…
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A paralegal’s 1,800-mile journey from the cornfields of Iowa to a studio in LA. A raw, poetic exploration of finding ‘home’ in a voice that raised you, a 28th birthday reclaimed, and the silent wave that changed everything. Written by Elizabeth Ardelle.
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A dark, modern fairy tale exploring the heavy gravity of childhood trauma, dissociation, and the spaces we build in our minds to survive emotional abuse.
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Healing isn’t linear. Three years post-divorce, the waves of grief still hit. An honest look at depression, therapy, and why I’m done apologizing for the bad days.”
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A Speck of Sand by Elizabeth Ardelle – original country music style single cover featuring a woman standing on a dirt road next to a Redwood tree.
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Another portion from the project I’m working on. It feels a little close for comfort, which means my nervous system is doing it’s job: healing. Saturday morning was usually a quiet affair for Cheryl Miller. She would sip her coffee in the sun room with the paper and just lounge. It was her necessary decompression…
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Lyrical Logic 