"Maybe I spent more time dwelling on emotions than some people, and maybe that's why I ended up writing"
About this Quote
There is a quiet refusal in DeMent's "Maybe": the kind of modesty that reads like permission. She frames emotional intensity not as a liability to be managed, but as raw material with a destination. The line lands because it sidesteps the macho mythology of creativity (genius, lightning bolts) and replaces it with something domestic and human: lingering. Dwelling. The unglamorous act of staying with a feeling longer than you're supposed to.
The subtext is a defense against a culture that treats emotion as excess, especially in public. DeMent doesn't claim emotional authority; she hints at difference. "Some people" becomes a soft foil for the emotionally efficient, the ones who can move on, compartmentalize, keep pace. Her "maybe" lets the listener decide whether that divergence is a flaw or a gift, while quietly insisting it can be both.
Context matters here because DeMent's songwriting is built on plainspoken ache and moral clarity - music that often refuses irony in favor of candor. In a genre ecosystem where authenticity is currency and sentimentality is policed, she proposes an origin story that is almost embarrassingly sincere: I felt too much, so I made something. Writing becomes a survival strategy and a translation device. The sentence also carries an implicit critique of productivity culture: the time spent "dwelling" isn't wasted if it becomes art. It's incubation, not indulgence.
Intent-wise, she's offering a map for outsiders: if you're the one who can't stop replaying a moment, you may not be broken. You may be headed toward language.
The subtext is a defense against a culture that treats emotion as excess, especially in public. DeMent doesn't claim emotional authority; she hints at difference. "Some people" becomes a soft foil for the emotionally efficient, the ones who can move on, compartmentalize, keep pace. Her "maybe" lets the listener decide whether that divergence is a flaw or a gift, while quietly insisting it can be both.
Context matters here because DeMent's songwriting is built on plainspoken ache and moral clarity - music that often refuses irony in favor of candor. In a genre ecosystem where authenticity is currency and sentimentality is policed, she proposes an origin story that is almost embarrassingly sincere: I felt too much, so I made something. Writing becomes a survival strategy and a translation device. The sentence also carries an implicit critique of productivity culture: the time spent "dwelling" isn't wasted if it becomes art. It's incubation, not indulgence.
Intent-wise, she's offering a map for outsiders: if you're the one who can't stop replaying a moment, you may not be broken. You may be headed toward language.
Quote Details
| Topic | Writing |
|---|
More Quotes by Iris
Add to List




