Photos by Kyle Throneberry
Story by Mariana González
Rachel Harman’s “Flowers in My Hair” is a quiet, aching song about waiting for a love that never fully arrives. Built around soft vocals, intimate guitar, and the image of flowers slowly wilting while someone waits, the song captures the uncertainty of wanting someone who cannot meet you where you are.
Harman wrote it during a relationship that left her feeling lonely and unsure, long before she began recording the songs that would eventually become her debut album. After the death of the person who inspired it, the song took on another layer of meaning, not because Harman changed what she had written, but because she now hears it alongside the memory of the person who was there when it began.
For Harman, “Flowers in My Hair” is an honest snapshot of a relationship before she had found the resolution that appears elsewhere in her music. Influenced by dream pop, country, and indie, her songwriting traces a larger movement through love, grief, self-understanding, and healing. Here, she talks about the song’s origins, the role music played throughout her years of traveling and guiding outdoor adventures, and the ten-song story she is beginning to share with the world.
Do you remember when music shifted from a personal refuge to public perception?
Probably when I first wrote this new single “Flowers In My Hair.” I had only written one other song before, but it felt more like a fun party trick than something I was really pursuing or considering seriously. When I wrote Flowers as a way of coping with some big feelings coming up, that’s when it began to shift.
You lived nomadically for ten years and worked as a guide in Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains, and Iceland. How did you experience music during that time? How did it accompany you, and what was your relationship with it like?
Music was with me on long drives, out on big hikes, by campfires, and on airplanes. I sang a lot in big wild places, and my voice was such a comfort to me. It was instantly regulating, whether I was exhausted, terrified, lonely, or overwhelmed. It also allowed me to express great joy through happy moments in beautiful places. I love singing and listening to music in any mood, and I love that music is something that can match how you feel, or lift you out of what you’re feeling, depending on what your soul needs at the time.
Let’s talk about your single “Flowers in My Hair,” which comes after a period marked by loss and transformation. Tell us how the song came to life and how you would describe it conceptually.
I was on a long drive with the person it is about, feeling like he was never going to let me in all the way. I was really feeling the effects of his hot and cold behavior, and the words just started coming to me. He drove this old diesel van that was so loud, he couldn’t hear anything else, so I could just sing the words that were popping up in my head as if I were alone (talk about a metaphor). This might be my least hopeful song, as there is not exactly a resolution. I am just being honest about feeling sad and lonely in love, and that was really true for me in that moment. My other songs tend to have a journey where I learn or let go of something in the end, but not this one. I wasn’t there yet.
What does the image of flowers in your hair represent within the story you are telling, and why did you feel it should be part of the title?
The first line of the song actually came to me on its own before the rest of it. I was sitting on the banks of the Kings River where I was raft guiding for the summer, and I hadn’t heard from this person in quite a while. I felt like I was sitting there waiting for him with flowers in my hair, but after so much time longing and wondering, they were starting to wilt. I like that the title might lead you to think this is a happy song, but you find out the flowers are wilting. To me, it shows that love left untended doesn’t keep growing.
What does this song mean to you?
This song has such a soft spot in my heart. I showed it to the person I wrote it about, and he thought it was great. I actually have some videos of us playing it together—he was also a musician. He died just last year, and it was absolutely gut-wrenching. Even though this isn’t a happy song about our relationship, I’m happy that he was in on it from the start. It’s not meant to be accusatory. It’s not a diss track. It’s a really honest portrait of where we were at the time, and he agreed with my perspective in the song. That’s the only way I could record it now after his death. Even though it’s sad and honestly a bit haunting with how things unfolded, it has this sweet, tender undertone that captured a moment in time with him. Singing it with him felt very healing, and I know he would be happy that I put it out into the world.
You have described some of these songs as emerging from the “compost” of loss. Do you feel it is easier to write from a place of pain than from more positive emotions?
I’m not sure that I believe it’s easier to write from a place of pain, but I think it can feel more natural to turn towards a creative outlet during hard times. I do find myself picking up my guitar more often when I am sad, lonely, angry, or uncomfortable. Making music is very soothing, but I don’t want to buy into the tortured artist thing. I’ve written some songs when I was in a really joyful state, and I love those songs. I believe it is just as important for artists to turn to their mediums in the good times. It is so powerful and healing to “compost” the tragedies of life by transmuting them through art, and it’s just as important to create as an expression of joy and contentment when things are going right. Just as much as we need art that validates our heavy emotions, we also need songs, paintings, poems, and journal entries that remind us of the sun behind the clouds.
You say that you have made it to the other side of tragedy and would like to “report back.” What have you discovered there that you hope to communicate through your music?
I discovered that I could survive the things I thought were unsurvivable. My brother was killed at 28, my father died unexpectedly shortly after, and my partner of five years took his life just a few months after that. With each tragedy, I thought, “Surely this is the one that breaks me; this is the one I can’t come back from.” But I kept coming back; I kept going. I had great support from my friends and my mom. I kept showing up to the things I loved. I leaned into the pain and processed it rather than avoiding and running. I asked for help when I needed it (often). So I suppose I’d like to report back that you are probably much stronger than you think, and if you can sit with pain and discomfort long enough, they will typically release you. I’d also like to report that love has a funny way of finding you again, even when you think all is lost.
After “Flowers in My Hair,” how do you imagine the broader story these ten songs will tell, and what is the next step in sharing them with the public?
“Flowers” is basically me sharing about the pains of an anxious/avoidant relationship, which usually has very deep ties to long-standing core wounds. As the other songs come out, they will tell the story of breaking free from that kind of pattern with love and understanding (not judgement and blame), going through deep grief, coming back to myself, and finding new love in all the wreckage. There is a little life cycle contained in this album. I’d like to continue sharing songs as singles until it feels like the right time to release all ten songs as an album. I’m excited to see where the road takes me!