Clifford đźš—
- Savannah Walters
- 4 hours ago
- 3 min read
Clifford carried me through some of the most transformative years of my life.
And now it's time to say goodbye.
What started as
a van quickly
became freedom.
At 20 years old, I sold most of what I owned, quit my serving job, and hit the road with little more than a guitar, a stubborn belief that music mattered, and absolutely no real plan.
I wasn't booking tours. I wasn't building a business.
I was simply following curiosity.
I'd pick a city, drive there, and figure it out when I arrived. Some nights I'd play for ten people in a basement bar. Other nights I'd sleep in parking lots, wake up in a new town, and spend the day exploring coffee shops, bookstores, mountain roads, and conversations with strangers.
Somewhere in all of that wandering, I began learning how to trust myself.
The road taught me autonomy in a way nothing else could.
It taught me how to make decisions without waiting for permission. How to sit with uncertainty. How to navigate loneliness. How to build a life from scratch over and over again. How to be uncomfortable and keep moving anyway.
Asher and I shared many longwinded conversations and experiences about love, loss, fear and confusion on this long trek from Nashville to California. This was a long morning conversation with Lloyd in his beautiful bookstore in Albequerque, New Mexico in 2017
We sat and read, we even played Lloyd a few songs--
There were beautiful seasons in this van.. and difficult ones.
Cross-country drives, tiny apartments, new cities, health challenges, creative breakthroughs, jobs that didn't work out..
and friendships that shaped me in ways I'll carry forever.
For a long time, it felt like I was searching for something...
Maybe purpose. Maybe belonging. Maybe myself.
What I didn't realize at the time was that every mile was quietly building the person I would become. The songs I would write.
James Spaite studio day in San Diego
The version of me that sits here today is a direct result of those years spent chasing sunsets, taking chances, getting lost, starting over,
and learning to trust my own voice.
Eventually, the road led me back to Nashville.
It led me deeper into songwriting.
It led me back to my health.
It led me to a creative community that feels like family.
And most importantly, it led me to a life
where music is no longer the thing I squeeze in around everything else.
It's become the center of the story again.
Looking back, Clifford wasn't really transportation.
He was more like the classroom.
The place I sat alone, and navigated loneliness.
The place my forever friendships grew closer and taught me how to listen.
A tiny red vessel that carried me through the years where I learned who I was.
And now, somehow, all those winding roads have led right back to where they started:
Making music.
So here's to the next adventure--
Meet Sunny-- Sunny I can't wait to share my 30s w you.
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