LETTING THE LIGHT IN
K.C. Clifford shares truths, Woody Guthrie tribute and live album details
Vulnerability isn’t a weakness.
K.C. Clifford sees it as an ever-evolving strength.
The Oklahoma City-based songwriter, 42, has wrestled with honesty and openness in her music, family and physical appearance for decades. She’s not afraid to get personal songs or in public. Just check one of her Facebook posts where she tackles the lows of buying toddler formula at Walmart in her pajamas at midnight or the one about the pressure of walking into a photo session with no make-up on and overcoming a nauseating anxiety.
“I feel more at home in myself at 42 than I ever did at 32 and certainly more than I did at 22,” Clifford told
The Oklahoman. “I hope to keep rising into this strength and not see it as a weakness. ...I’m not going to let things like whether I looked good in my jeans stop me from living my life.”
It almost did. Clifford started songwriting as a way to process a near-death experience she had at 20. An eating disorder had grown out of control and it almost ended her life.
“That’s where my life as a songwriter was born, out of my post-treatment time when I moved to Nashville,” Clifford said. “What I realized was that if I didn’t tell my story, didn’t speak out loud and learn how to use my voice, that I was gonna die. That I would slowly kill myself. That’s just a very real truth for me. I began to write songs as they hit me. As a necessary extension of processing the huge emotions I was feeling.”
Clifford will be using that voice a lot this month. In April, you’ll have multiple chances to catch her performing at The Blue Door, 2805 N McKinley Ave. She’ll be joining Melissa Hembree, Susan Herndon, Lauren Lee, Shawna Russell and Monica Taylor on Saturday night to raise funds for the annual Woody Guthrie Folk Festival. On April 13-14, Clifford returns to record a new live album. This marks the first new music Clifford has recorded since becoming a mother five years ago.
Common folk
Clifford recently found herself surrounded by thousands of Oklahomans. She’s not the activist type, but she felt compelled tomarch at the Oklahoma Capitol in January and to have her voice heard at the Women’s March, even if she felt uneasy. “I was trepidatious,” Clifford said. “I didn’t know what to expect. My friendand I hooked arms and when the march actually started, we just started singing ‘This Land Is Your Land.’ ...It felt like Woody was there.”
Clifford is not only a fan of the folk troubadour but also of the spirit of his festival, which turns 20 this summer. Woody Fest takes place July 12-19 in Okemah, and Clifford performsat the festival as often as she can. Clifford said she jumped at the opportunity to join the Women of Woody Fest fundraiser lineup.
Recently, Woody Fest organizers took to the digital crowdsourcing website GoFundMe looking for help. They shared this message: “The last several years have been a challenge financially as the costs of travel and lodging have increased. In 2015 we were forced to charge an admission fee for the first time. We are still struggling to stay afloat.”
“That’s a worthy cause to me. Sustaining a festival that’s meant so much to me. I’ll give a night. Susan (Herndon) was apologizing in her emails, ‘Sorry y’all aren’t getting paid.’ I’m not. I’m not sorry. Let’s make the festival some money . ... I think Woody’s message is a needed thing in this time. Now more than ever.”
Same venue, new album
Clifford said it’s humbling to hear venueowner Greg Johnson say, “I take great pleasure in welcoming back to the Blue Door, K.C. Clifford.”
She cut her live album “Pockets Full of Hope” at the listening room almost a decade ago, and she’s returning for another round of stories and songs. The back-toback evening of shows will include Clifford’s husband and guitarist David Broyles (Dr. Pants), keyboardist Dan Walker (John Fullbright, Ann Wilson of Heart) and recording engineer Dustin Ragland (Young Weather).
Clifford said it’s gift to walk onstage. “I don’t takelightly that those people got a baby sitter, paid and they’re sitting there givingme their attention,” Clifford said. “That’s a generosity that blows me away every time I take the stage.”
The beauty is in the exchange of stories in her songs and the moments in between tracks. Clifford sarcastically said she can’t believe people come back to hear her crazy stories and then bring friends with them. She called herself a fish out of water and is hopeful that people can relate to the awkward, uncomfortable momentsshe’ll discuss openly.
“If I do my job right then people leave with a light burning inside that wasn’t there before, believing their life has a purpose . ... That they matter,” Clifford said. “That they’re seen. Is there any other work? A different kind of work? Because I don’t know it if there is.”