Keeley Valentino

Fall is on it’s way, or so I am wishing and hoping. Has it already been a year since I started this humble blog? So much of my life is so very different in only a years time. The record is finished and out in the world, I’m almost done with school, (this Friday!) I’m getting ready to move again- this is an entire separate story but let me just say Cleon I love you and have loved every minute there and my roommates have been so amazing and like family and I will miss you. And where I am going? Let’s just say Jeremy and I spent Friday afternoon picking out paint swatches and taping them onto his wall. Crazy. Glorious. Right.
I feel a lot more grown up in even a year. I don’t know what that means exactly, maybe I just feel more at peace with what is to come, maybe even more excited. Today on my way to school I bumped into a buddy of mine from a songwriting class and we got to discussing our post grad plans. He said he was moving to Seattle and I said I was staying here and we chatted about music and love and inspiration in the 5 minutes we had like we really had 5 hours, but his words struck me. He told me that the biggest thing he’d learned is that you have to go out and experience life. Music can’t be your all day, every day thing. It just hit me as so true. Sometimes I get scared I’ll never write another song or that I’m getting too old (I hate myself for that one but I have to be honest) or that I’ll never sell as many CDs as I need to and then I just have to stop and remember that none of that is what its all about. I don’t want to write or sing out of fear or a sense of obligation. I want to do it out of joy. Write when I have a story or something to say, sing with reckless abandon and free- spiritedness. Enjoy every moment in my life right now and let all the collective experiences soak into my soul and plant fodder for something creative. So that’s my current goal. Thank you Mr. Wilkinson for your wise words.
I’m playing a ton in these next two months, a lot of acoustic shows and weddings, and then something really special at the end of October. As most of you know I went to Kenya 3 years ago with an organization that my parents are heavily involved in called Watoto Wenye Nguvu. (http://www.kilimambogo.org/) This October, Danny, Natalie and I will be heading up to the Bay Area to play at a benefit concert for this organization through Hope Walks. (http://www.hopewalks.org/index.php/marin-ca) I am so excited to have the chance to do something to help support the children and community that had such a huge impact on my life those few years ago. I’d encourage you all to take a glance at the websites and to come out to the show if you’re up in the Bay Area on the 24th! I’m also pasting this email that I wrote when I first got back from Kilimambogo that kind of outlines my experience and gives a brief summary of what I learned.

“I've been trying for some time now to get the juices flowing and sit down and write out a nice email to everyone and shed some light on my trip to Africa. I've been waiting for the perfect words to come, my favorite memory to recall, the most influential person I met. I've gone over my journal looking for excerpts to share and even my pictures hoping for one to say more that I can. But it's not that easy.
Since returning to the US I've been trying to wrap my mind around the whole experience and figure out how it all makes sense- how is it that my every day life can exist in the same world as the kids I met in Kilimambogo? How can I make sure to remember every last thing I learned when life here is no noisy and distracting? What can I do to start making a difference?
I don't know the answers to these questions yet, and maybe I never will, but that is what's been on my mind ever since I got back to bills and mirrors and emails and tabloids and an endless supply of water.
What follows might be a bit discombobulated (sp?) and stream of thought-ish, but-Here is what I do know- the people I met in Kilimambogo were without a doubt the kindest, most generous and humble people I've ever met. The children have a light about them that is almost indescribable. They are so polite and outgoing, and they sing and dance unlike anything I've ever seen. They know how to celebrate and praise without hesitation or reservation, and they truly use song and dance as gifts. Everyone knows all the words to each song and all the moves to each dance, and there is no shyness or being bashful, they give everything of themselves with passion and excitement. We were all moved to tears several times to see them dance and hear their voices, it was nothing short of pure.
The social situation in Kilimambogo is devastating. AIDS has decimated the majority of the population of adults ranging from mid twenties to mid forties/fifties, leaving vast numbers of children orphaned. The organization I went with is called 'watoto wenye nguvu' meaning 'children of strength' and their mission to account for every orphan in the valley by making sure they have a guardian to care for them (usually a grandmother, great aunt, or relative/family friend of some kind) or providing them with a place to live in a group home run by the organization. WWN also strives to connect each orphan with a sponsor from the US who helps to provide various necessities, health care, nutrition, schooling etc.
Schooling is a tricky situation- primary school (our equivalent of about 1 or 2 grade to 8th grade) is free, but nursery school ( pre k-) is not free, however it is mandatory in order to be able to progress to primary school. secondary school (high school) is also not free. what happens as a result is that there are a lot of kids who are left alone all day long while their guardians work, there are a lot of much older kids starting primary and secondary school or not being able to get further education beyond 8th grade. Another project begun by WWN is the building of the area's only public highschool.
A feeding program has been in the works at all the primary schools in the valley and for many children this is their only meal. When I was there, the feeding program was under a lot of stress bc the food prices have increased by about 70% due to severe drought.
The land in Kenya is just the way you would imagine Africa to be. We visited the Serengetti and it was like the backdrop to 'The Lion King' The sky is piercing blue and hugely expansive, the dirt is red, the vegetation a mixture of colors somehow despite the drought. I was constantly amazed to see such beauty when I would take a moment to put my head up and look around.
We were not there for very long. With all the travelling time on either end, we were really only in Kilimambogo for about a week. WWN is still a fairly new, still developing organization with lots of work needing to be done on the structural end. There were various frusterations and confusions in the midst of trying to organize and plan. I know there is a long way to go before it is completely smooth sailing. But there are good people with gi-normous hearts over there who really REALLY love the kids they are working with.
All the kids I met were unbelievable and I would have packed them in my suitcase if I could have. Ya'll know I'm obsessed with kids anyway, but I'm telling you, these kids were just magic. They taught me a song in Swahili and would drag me around and make me sing it to every single person they knew. ( i think they were really amused to hear a 'mazungu' (white person) try to sing swahili) One night after dinner they had a dance party right there in the dining room and they showed Emi, Elizabeth and I some moves. They had a great laugh at our efforts. i was repeatedly mistaken for being 15 or 16 years old (im not joking) and i was told i was very old for being 23 and not having a husband or a boyfriend. (i almost peed my pants i was laughing so hard) They loved our long hair (every child has a shaved head) and created many an interesting do from braids to buns. They held our hands and sat in our laps and clung to our legs. they have all seen the worst of life- all forms of abuse, drugs, being sold as slaves, rape, losing every relative to AIDS- and their strength is undoubtedly present in the maturity, compassion, and warmth of their faces. i was inspired to be as brave as them.
So that's all for now folks, I'm sure there will be more to say as the weeks progress and I process more of what I have learned. I am so very greatful for the opportunity to go and so thankful for the friendships I have made. Thank you for thinking of me while I was away and keeping us all in your prayers!!
I am reading this really great book right now that will probably do a much better job of inspiring you than I ever will- its called "The End of Poverty" by Jeffrey Sachs. If you need a book to read this one is really really a page turner.
soooo much love to all, xoox-k”

There are some typos and some grammatical errors I know, but I remember rushing to write this when I first got home so I could just let everyone in on the trip and try to illuminate the situation over there. I can’t wait to have the chance to go back. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it now if you got this far in the ole bloggy. I’m off to a little rehearsal, may the rest of your September days be filled with chilly, cozy mornings and the eruption of those fall colors that are truly cause for celebration.

They don’t call Montana “Big Sky Country” for nothing. Especially now that I live in LA and have sadly forgotten what a star-filled sky really looks like, falling asleep beneath the vast expanse of the Milky Way and actually being able to marvel at its contents is enough to convince you it’s actually bigger there than anywhere else. I’ve been to Montana countless times over the past 13 years. Some trips I remember for the innocence and the relaxation, some I remember for the pain and the heartache. This trip was an entirely new frontier for me, but Montana always offers something of a sacred ground, and it didn’t disappoint this time. Upon leaving I felt both cleansed and filled up, both pensive and rejuvenated.
Last Thursday Jeremy, Silas and I began the 18 hour drive to Hamilton, MT to meet my dad and Taylor. Silas had been staying with me for a week here in LA and we weren’t going to leave until early Friday morning but we were all so excited for the adventure to begin we just decided to get an early start. I drove (proudly, I might add) for a whole two hours before falling asleep in the backseat while Silas and Jeremy drank 5-hour energy drinks and bottomless cups of coffee and literally drove through the night. I woke up a few times, first while we were on the strip in Vegas and again in the dark while we passed through southwest Utah near Zion, one of my most favorite places. I didn’t wake up for good though until we were right outside Salt Lake City and Silas was being pulled over for his first speeding ticket. He handled it like a pro and the police officer was actually pretty decent, but dare I say I don’t think Utah left the best impression on Silas. After wondering the streets of Salt Lake in search of breakfast and only finding endless edifices associated with the LDS, we continued on the interstate until I saw a sign for…. Cracker Barrel!!!! The Nashvillian heart in me skipped a beat with joy and nostalgia to stumble upon such a southern symbol as Cracker Barrel and so we HAD to stop for a hearty country breakfast. That night we camped along the Salmon River in northern Idaho. We got eaten by mosquitoes (this would prove to be a theme throughout the week), Jeremy’s tent zipper broke (more mosquitoes!!!!) and Silas had to jump into the river to detangle a fishing line he cast into a pile of logs. But waking up to the sound of rushing water before the boys were up and sitting by the riverbank to read and journal in the early morning light, I said 1000 silent prayers of gratitude to be there and to be on the road and on vacation.
We made it to Hamilton on Saturday afternoon. My dad and Taylor met us in the parking lot of the grocery store, tan and a bit weary after a 16 mile over night hike they had finished that morning. We drove up into the canyon and set up camp and the world melted away. In the following days we took a trip to Lake Como and went swimming, Jeremy and I also attempted to take an inflatable boat out into the lake but didn’t get very far paddling with one oar against the wake of 5 different jet skis and motor boats. Taylor even swam out to try and push us further off the shore, which actually worked for a few minutes until we capsized altogether and could hardly climb back into the thing we were laughing so hard. We also did a day hike up to the Fred Burr Reservoir and all found the courage to jump in even though it was the coldest water I’ve ever felt. On our descent back into the canyon, we drank the ice cold water running off the sides of trail, filling our empty water jugs, truly ‘bottling at the source’. Jeremy and I slept in a tent with a see-through mesh ceiling, allowing us to star gaze and even catch a glimpse of a meteor shower. Silas and Taylor slept in cots close to our tent and it warmed my heart to hear them chatting quietly in their sleeping bags, sleeping head to head like the little boys they used to be.
On our last day there we packed everything up and headed into town. Hamilton has grown significantly since we first started exploring the area when I was a kid, but the downtown Main Street still has an infectious charm. We wandered through the little shops until late afternoon when dad, Jeremy and I set off to the edge of the Bitterroot River to visit Brian’s cross. It was 10 years this July since he passed away, but walking to the spot where he was pulled from the river feels like walking back into time. My heart jumps into my throat and my feet feel like lead beneath me, still hesitant to go back and feel the heavy weight of all that has happened that can’t be changed. The area itself looks completely different, the current has a way of continually changing the landscape, pushing and pulling new fallen logs and trees and rocks, constantly altering the shoreline. My family put up a cross on a tree many years ago near the place where he drowned and each year when people visit it they put up new things- pictures, notes, flowers. This year Brian’s dad John put up a beautiful homemade sign. I wonder if the rafters who float by that tree on any given day pay notice. If they can even feel for one minute what that spot on the river really means. For them it is a cross on a tree, for us it is history and heartbreak. It’s someone’s whole life. The sadness never fades.
The next morning at 4am dad, Taylor and Silas left for the Bay Area and Jeremy and I set off on our own adventure back to LA. We took our time weaving along the 12, out of Montana and into Idaho, curling along the Salmon River yet again. It was breathtaking, maybe the most beautiful drive I’ve ever been on. We stopped at practically every pull out to take pictures, and even scooted our way down the embankment at one point to jump into the river. It was a hot, lazy, perfect day. We had planned to camp that night in Hells Canyon, but hadn’t designated any specific campsite. At 7pm we pulled off onto a gravel road that ended up taking us an hour up a mountain range called Seven Devils Peak, and concluded at what felt like the top of the world. The temperature had dropped significantly, as was the sun and we were eager to set up camp and cook some dinner. But the minute we stepped out of the car we were completely swarmed with a blanket of mosquitoes and even though I was pretty sure there was no skin left on my legs for them to feast upon, we decided it’d be torturous to spend a whole night there and so we went back down into town. We stayed the night in the blessed town of Riggins, Idaho and it was such a quaint little river town, it was the best accident we could have had.
The next morning we didn’t hit the road until about 1pm. The Oregon countryside was so much different than the mountains of Idaho, we were suddenly passing farms and bales of hay and grazing cows. We got gas in a town that was literally only a gas station and the house of the station owner. We played MASH (Jeremy ended up having to marry an older lady who comes into Hugo’s (the restaurant we work at) every week and is questionably both heavily medicated and heavily reconstructed by plastic surgery) and Mad Libs and talked and talked and talked until we hit Reno at about 11:30pm. Much to his chagrin, we stayed the night there and much to his even deeper chagrin we got Starbucks in the morning on our way out of town. (He is a loyal Peet-ist). He was in high spirits despite all that though because we were only 3 hours or so from our final stop on the trip, the Eastern Sierras and a few choice spots along the 395. He’s been talking about his love for this area since we first met so I was really looking forward to seeing them for myself. We stopped in Mammoth and Bishop and ended up in Mosquito Flats (it never ends!!!) for a freaking amazing hike into Little Lake Valley. We came upon lake after lake, all set against the backdrop of picturesque mountain peaks and lush clearings of green grass. We ate lunch in one such clearing that nestled right up against the lakeshore and we barely even spoke, we were so enamored by the scenery. As night fell we made our way up another mountain and into the forest to his favorite campsite, although his favorite plot right by the river had been taken. We made a huge breakfast-for-dinner scramble that was delicious and sat on a blanket in the dark by a glorious campfire and stared at the sky. There were no other lights to be seen but our fire and the twinkling stars and we whispered and giggled and I laid on his lap while we ruminated on all the amazing things we had done that week.
The next morning we woke up and I turned 27. It was a really peaceful feeling. I’m not big on my own birthdays usually and always feel a little weird getting attention for them, but this year everything felt right. 27 sounds really old. Not REALLY old, but old enough that I should have some things figured out and lined up. But to tell you the truth it felt like I sort of slid right into this new age without my fingers crossed. Here I am and I’m so happy and so lucky and so faithful that all will continue to be as it should be. I spent the day on the road with Jeremy and it was just what I wanted to do. Thank you so much to everyone who called me and sent me texts and emails and cards. I have the best friends and family a girl could ever ask for.
So now I’m back in the real word, getting ready for school and heading back to work. But I feel like I can breathe a bit deeper somehow, I feel a bit lighter even. I feel a bit safer remembering that I am so, so small.
I have big plans for this fall, heading back to Nashville finally, a year later, to play a show and see some friends and promote the record. I’m graduating from school in September. I’m hoping to get some sort of real live tour together up and down the CA coast. I’m going to 4 weddings. I’m daydreaming of all the endless possibilities and just hoping I don’t miss anything.
A big thanks to Charles Alexander for all his magicalness and patience.
Also to my dad and Taylor and Silas for all the memories.
And of course to Jeremy, for all the things I believe in now.

May the rest of your summers be filled with magic and glory!!!!!!!

July 1st??????? Here are some updates:

***Last weekend the whole band and I trooped up to San Francisco to play a show at the Hotel Utah. It was a great show, I seriously had the most fun I think I’ve ever had, and I was SO proud to show off the band and have my friends and family see what I’ve been up to for the past year. Natalie and Allen opened the night with their respective musical glory and between their set and the whole band’s I couldn’t help but feel that knot of gratitude in my stomach reminding me of my many blessings. I got to take the band around to see some Bay Area sights, my favorite of course being the Headlands- the most spectacular view of a city I’ve ever seen. Natalie and Jacob and I walked some of the Golden Gate Bridge on a perfect late spring afternoon. The night after the show Brother Beist took us all on a caravanning tour around San Fran, stopping at the top of Market for another sparkling view, as well as a trip down Lombard. Every time I go back to the Bay Area, I hear it calling me home. Until the day I actually make that move, it will always be the shows I get to play at home that mean the most because I just want to make everyone proud. Thanks to my amazing and hospitable family for all their help and to all my dear peeps who came out to support.

***Three Cities is almost on itunes. I swear.

*** Here at Cleon we barbeque at least 3 times a week. I'd say that qualifies as pretty amazing. I just saw that movie "Food, Inc" and it surely inspired me to become a more conscious meat and produce consumer, but none the less summertime barbeques are really one of the best thing in life. And Natalie Metcalf cooks one hell of a burger. Late night bbq with a glass of wine while sitting outside in the backyard chatting with friends and singing songs? Yes, this is my life and yes, I know I'm so lucky.


***This morning I had to take my roommate Allen to Bakersfield. It’s a long story but basically his car broke down in Modesto last week on the way to SF and he had to leave it there and was taking a train out of B-field to retrieve it. Natalie woke up at the buttcrack to go with me, bless her heart. I haven’t been through Bakersfield in years but I got the urge to try and find my old neighborhood and house. Somehow, by recognizing random street names and taking wild guesses, I ended up in ‘The Oaks’, our old housing development. It was weird. Everything was still there, the old parks we used to play at, my old elementary school. The old cul-de-sac. My bedroom window is completely blocked by a big palm tree that must have been planted there in the past 15 years that we’ve been gone. The pine tree I did plant and lovingly named Herby must have either died or been pulled up because he was nowhere to be seen on the side of the house. All the ghosts of my neighborhood friends and me were silent. Everything just looked old and kind of muted. I remember it all looking so much more alive. I didn’t feel sad to tell you the truth. I was expecting to have a much more significant emotional reaction. What I felt was more of a shock- life indeed goes on. Other people live in all those houses now, other lives being lived, there is no trace of me there. The roller-blading competitions, the bike rides, the basketball games played half court style on everyone’s driveways, the pool parties, the hide and seek and tag. The big trampoline at Tami’s house, collecting cans with Todd, chasing the ice cream truck on hot summer days. Those early years were good ones, but they’ve given way to new families, new 9 year old kids running wild.
There is also no trace of the cloud of smoke we left behind. All the tears we cried and secrets we kept behind closed doors don’t hang heavy over the house, over the court, over the block. There is no one in that neighborhood left to remember. It kind of felt liberating, like maybe I’m more grown up than I thought.
Each of us has our own script we remember and carry with us about what really happened there, and our own truths are the only legacy we leave behind with whomever we decide to share it with. I’m thinking about reinventing mine. Or at least taking a big, deep breath and remembering that in real time, Bakersfield is only a town. The people I love and hold dear from there are scattered across the country now, but it is through them that I honor the years of my childhood that were innocent and sweet.


***And finally, I saved the best for last: this girl, this ‘cynical about marriage, jaded about relationships sometimes skeptical about commitment’ girl has been swept right off her feet and fallen flat on her face in loooooooove. And I mean SWEPT. For the past 2 months or so it’s been all I can do to conduct a normal life at any level because my head has been completely in the clouds. I don’t want to go into too much mushy detail but I will say this, it was really the easiest thing. All my freaking out, all my incessant rationalizing and ponderings about partnership and personal space and independence and expectations- suddenly didn’t matter when I met this magical man of glory. Everything I’ve been so afraid of turned out to actually not be real. To really feel this mutual magnetism, it’s like I’m a 5 year old in a constant state of amazement. I just never thought it’d happen to me, but lo and behold it did and I’ve never been happier.
Sooooo- stay tuned for some happier songs for sure!! Haha.

Happy July to all and happy summer!!!!