If anyone ever told me I would be a rock singer, especially at my age – and successful – I would have laughed. I was called a wallflower at parties because I was so shy, although playful with close associates and confidants. I had aspired to model, sparkled to acting, and never took my Sony headphones off while roaming New York City in my early twenties.
After surprisingly becoming a single mom in my mid-thirties (another story) any fantasies to strive or put physical actions toward my dreams were put on hold. I could still feel that excitement and longing to be seen, though.
Homeschooling, hosting a radio show, and becoming an author while being a mom, my dreams – the older I got – were fading far from me due to my association with my age.
Having to give up my radio show and writing novels for personal reasons, my son suggested I return to school. I thought, “What could I do at my age of 50?” My study skills and habits had long lost any connection with me. I decided to humor the idea and started out at the community college for music. Little did I know there was really something to this whole area of art to learn and work toward.
I started remembering the best times of my life with music. Growing up with my mom and dad and a child sibling band using combs and brushes for microphones, my 8th grade teacher (Ms. Doucette at the time, Mrs. Duffy now) telling me of my magic with words, my mom’s patient support to my singing, my sister’s direction to the importance of lyrics, my dad’s introduction to the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album by The Beatles, and my little brother’s larger than life urge to play the drums as we performed. Then after my first attendance to a dance composition by one of my teachers, I was ignited with a freedom to create. I had no idea there was so much acceptance to creativity. I wrote my first album three months after being in school. I went from being Lori Finnila to Lori Jean. From then I’ve never looked back. I found home, no matter how old I was.
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