Ordinary love in extraordinary times

For those of you who don’t know, I live in South Minneapolis less than half a mile from where George Floyd was killed. For the past 10 days, I've marched, protested, cried, cleaned up, placed flowers, and I have mourned.

I deeply love my city, my community and my neighbors. I don't know what the news is showing you, but I want you to know that our community is coming together. Our local Minneapolis police department has a jarring history of abuse and unaccountability that is now, finally, being challenged. And we are saying No More.

You also may know that I’m supposed to be promoting my record that is now live as of midnight. It's called Ordinary Love.  As I write this, it's streaming on Spotify.  You can download it on Bandcamp. There is joy, accountability, love, and support for healing in these songs. And love. Extraordinary love. 

But I’m at a loss of how to do this. The last two weeks have been full of everything other than self promotion. 

As I write this after midnight, the streets here in Minneapolis are quieter than last week. But there are still black hawk helicopters flying overhead and national guard troops on the ground. My neighborhood watch exchanges texts every night and now I know the names of nearly everyone on my block. Justice for George is written in chalk and on signs wherever I walk.

We have so much work to do to literally rebuild and also to create a form of public safety that actually makes our entire community feel safe. And I'm committed to doing my part in that work. 

I do believe in the power of music. And, while a guitar and songs are meaningful and important, so is standing up for justice. So, tonight I release a record, Saturday I march again, and Sunday I play a show virtually to connect, laugh, and maybe cry.

This is no ordinary time.

With extraordinary love,
Ellis Delaney