Music is probably the only real magic I have encountered in my life. There’s not some trick involved with it. It’s pure and it’s real. It moves, it heals, it communicates and does all these incredible things.
*Sister* “Don’t you ever worry about the future, Sharon?”
*Me* “I would, sure, but Donald Trump is in charge. Thus, I assume WW3 and the nuclear apocalypse are imminent. At this point ‘planning for my future’ would be learning to drive a tank around a desolate wasteland, watching Mad Max: Fury Road 100x, and getting over my fear of cockroaches.”
*Me* “Admittedly, I haven’t planned for zombies. But I will take one thing at a time.”
“I had already decided that the record was going to be called Bella Donna. With my previous boyfriend, who was an engineer on Tusk, I had gone to Chile for six weeks after finishing recording Tusk. I met his mother, who was just a marvelous lady; she became like Bella Donna to me. She’d been around when the  military coup happened, and had been in love with a man who, when the government fell, was banished to France or face life in prison. She told me this story one night, and I just decided right there that my first solo record was going to be called Bella Donna.
I knew it meant ‘beautiful woman’, but also that it’s a poisonous root. People use it for healing, but if you take too much, you can die. So I thought: This is the perfect double-edged sword title for the record. So the idea was handed to me on a little silver tray with some toast and blackberry jam by the sweetest lady.”