Patty Griffin Does Not CrossFit....But I Do and I Love Them Both

I was not completely done with my papers that were due on Monday, but I had tickets to see Shawn Colvin and Patty Griffin in Austin on Sunday night. No way I was going to miss it. I took my books and articles in the car and read while Jason drove until I ran out of daylight sufficient enough to see. I was already so tired. But I had to go.

I'd never been to the Paramount Theatre before. (And I love when it's spelled with the r before the e....so very upscale). It's old and tiny and warm and inviting. Could not have been happier with our seats. We were in the balcony, 3 rows from the railing, yet so close to the stage that I could see the fly-aways in Patty's hair that the straightener failed to tame. I could count the bracelets on her left arm and see the paisley pattern on the rug beneath their chairs and the pick on the small black side table just off to her right.

I had tears in my eyes from the moment Patty strummed the first chord on her guitar and opened her mouth to sing....and you can assume that's because I was beyond the point of physical and mental exhaustion, but you'd be wrong. There's a heartbreak in her voice that can be felt. It makes the hair on your neck stand up and can send chills all the way down to your feet. But running alongside that heartbreak is a comfort, like when mama would sing you to sleep at night.

I had never seen Shawn Colvin live before, but now am a huge fan. She is a phenomenal guitarist and her songwriting is full of thought and pain and ironic humor. She seems like she'd be one of those friends who is painfully honest, but can also make you laugh until your sides hurt.

Part of what I loved most about the show is that they didn't have a predetermined set list. It was kind of like sitting in a living room with two good friends who were catching up and having a nice, long, easy conversation. The show was completely acoustic, with the heels of their boots as their only beat keepers. Stripped down, the raw beauty of their songs and voices shone and moved and kept a quiet peace until each one was finished.

They took turns, back and forth, with Patty so impressed with Shawn's guitar that she used it for her own songs more often than not. (The fact that it was a John Mayer Special Edition by Martin provided for some fantastic and off the cuff remarks by both girls that would later worry Patty about which parts might make their way onto the internet the next day). Their easy banter between songs, when one was trying to decide what to play next, brought some great laughs and kept the mood light and laid back. I could not have been happier if I had been curled up on the couch with my softest blanket.

The show was too short, as it always is. When it's that good, you want it to go on and on and on. But they did come back for an encore and I think that's when Jason fell in love with Patty for himself. She played Kris Kristofferson's "Help Me Make It Through the Night," a song (obviously) made famous by Waylon Jennings. And it was exactly what I needed to carry me through those final few hours of writing.