Music is the Best Therapy

Look for a moment at Meggie Sutherland's eyes. They've seen a thing or two-more in less than a decade than a pair of eyes should. They've seen a dream of musical stardom emerge, disintegrate, disappear from the radar and then, at the depths of pain and loneliness, emerge once again. Today Meggie (real name Megan) is a bright-eyed and energetic 20-year-old with her eye on taking over the Big Apple, but her scars are real-and real close.

This is Meggie's song-and you ought to hear her sing it.

Verse 1

Let's back up. Like most savants, Meggie's talent for music began early, at age seven or eight-though many children begin much earlier, she's quick to point out. For hours every day she practiced classical piano; when most girls her age were selling Girl Scout cookies and wearing Future Fill-in-your-School Cheerleader T-shirts, Meggie was competing against college students in piano competitions. "I was obsessed with piano. It's all I ever did," she says. During her preteen years, she prepared herself to attend high school at a music conservatory. Her Glendale High School diploma alone would be enough to tell you that that dream, like so many children's fancies, never came about. What isn't so apparent is why.

That's where the fingers come in.

Synovitis-a common symptom of and precursor to rheumatoid arthritis-is an infection of the membrane around the joints, making it painful to move. It usually affects senior citizens. Meggie got it in her fingers and hands-the worst possible place for a pianist to experience chronic pain-when she was 12. To help counter the synovitis, she wrapped her hands in cast-like contraptions before she went to bed every night, but the pain persisted. "It got to where it just hurt so bad to play," Meggie says.
Eventually the pain was too much. Though she continued taking lessons for several years, her abilities plateaued and students she had once played circles around passed her in ability. Her piano teacher encouraged the frustrated teen to begin singing. At first Meggie balked. "I was like, 'God, no way. I don't want to be onstage'," says Meggie, who had never taken voice lessons. But at the same time, she was fond of singer/songwriters like Joni Mitchell and Carole King, and eventually began writing songs for the guitar. As one passion was slipping away, another was beginning, but tough times weren't finished with her just yet.

Verse 2

About the time Meggie began playing the guitar, she quit eating. Whether it was a reaction to the problems with her hands Meggie can't say-In truth, it was probably less simple than that. "It was typical anorexia stuff," Meggie says. "If I don't eat, it will solve all my problems. Just baloney." At age 15 she stopped playing the piano completely ("It just depressed me"), and though she continued on with the guitar, an unhealthy romantic relationship took much of her time and energy, further adding to her physical and psychological problems.

Her eating disorder-which she managed to conceal for several years-spiraled out of control late in high school. By the time she graduated, broke up with the aforementioned boyfriend and enrolled at then-Southwest Missouri State University (a music major and animal science minor-"the weirdest combination," Meggie says), she was withering. Of course, Meggie then added drinking and partying to her list of priorities. "I wasn't eating, wasn't going to class," she says. "I was so sick at that point." Her relationship with her parents had deteriorated to the point where-she says-they had basically disowned her.

Meggie's intervention came in October 2004, after she had dropped out of SMS and moved in with friends. An aunt and uncle told her she had to get some help-she didn't fight them.  "At that point I was so tired of it all I was like 'someone just save me'," she says.

"Saving" meant two months in a Tulsa, Oklahoma psychiatric hospital, where she was treated for a menagerie of ailments, including liver damage and irregular heartbeat-"every health problem a 90-year-old has," she says. She spent the holidays with a score of other young women with eating disorders. Meggie recalls the hospital-or, as she calls it, the "loony bin" or "ninth circle of hell"-as a depressing place, full of sad, sick young women. This was rock bottom.

One night at dinner, Meggie's fellow patients basically forced her behind the dining room's piano, asking her to play some Christmas songs to lighten the mood. It was like coming back to an old friend. "I started crying," she says. "I forgot about this." She began playing and writing songs for guitar in her friend's room, and once again the music-achy hands be damned-began to flow.

Verse 3

After two months in the hospital and almost a year in outpatient treatment in Tulsa, Meggie returned to Springfield in fall 2005. She had been playing and writing all that time, and it wasn't long before she began playing musical gigs in earnest. This time, instead of buttoned-up classical recitals, she was playing her own blend of folk, jazz and rock at joints like The Outland and Patton Alley Pub, where her Joni Mitchell-meets-Lisa Loeb vibe is more at home. She flirted with a few potential band partnerships ("Musicians are flaky," she says) but mostly played solo shows, always behind her professional-quality keyboard (she still doesn't play her guitar in public).

But Meggie wanted more. A friend told her her dream to be a recording artist was "bulls***," so the next day Meggie called Lou Whitney, owner of The Studio on South Avenue, and set up a recording session. Soon Meggie, purple hair and all, was recording with one of the most influential players on the Springfield music scene. "[Lou] knows what music he likes and what music he doesn't like. I can always count on Lou to be like 'This song is just total crap'," Meggie says. "I respect and love him like crazy."

If inexperience wasn't a problem for Meggie, inspiration certainly wasn't. "It's not really like I don't have stuff to write about," says Meggie, who writes songs every week, patiently waiting for one that makes her want to spring into the studio. "I have slumps where I write like 10 crap songs, and that's really discouraging," she says. "But then you get that one good song again and record it and you're like, 'Yes, I'm back! I'm going to write another 10 crappy songs!'"

Coda

Beginning the week after Christmas, Meggie will be writing those "crappy" songs in New York City. She's made plans to join her boyfriend and some other acquaintances living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She says she needs to be somewhere where her skills have a showcase. "I need to be ... where there's a lot of places I can play. Sitting at a piano I need to be able to play jazz and blues. There are a lot of places in New York where people go specifically to listen to that kind of music."

She's already traveled to New York a number of times, making contact with acquaintances of her friends and Whitney, setting up gigs to begin playing as soon as early January. Meggie says a  record deal would be awesome, but will be content if she can make a living playing gigs.

Springfield music fans' last chance to hear Meggie live (for now-she plans on occasionally returning to Springfield to record at The Studio) will come December 1, when she plays Keyes Gallery during First Friday Art Walk. She's also planning some December dates at Patton Alley Pub or The Outland-keep your eye on springfieldgo.com for specifics.

As for the problems that have so shaped her, of course they haven't gone away. Her return to piano playing hasn't resulted in a miracle cure for her synovitis-she still experiences pain and wraps her hands, often wearing braces on her wrists at night ("I look kind of like a penguin," she says). Eating right is also still a constant battle, though she says she's managed to keep anorexia away since returning to Springfield. Just as pressing: Meggie's mother is fighting illness and her relationship with her family remains rocky. One would be remiss in reading a move to New York as anything other than the next phase of the fresh start that began at that piano in a psychiatric hospital.

But look in her eyes. Meggie's not running, she's not afraid-she's says she's excited. "At this point I kind of feel like I can handle anything."

Hear more
To hear Meggie Sutherland's music, check her out on MySpace at myspace.com/meggiesutherland. Suggested: "Mr. Sober," "Superhero"