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An Inspired Chat with Kelly Romo of Chosewood Park

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Kelly Romo. Check out our conversation below.

Kelly, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
This period of my life has been chaotic in the most insane ways. A while back I felt a pull to stand up for something that I believed in, and since then there have been catastrophic psychological effects on my internal world and external world. I had to stand up against something much bigger than me with much more power than I have in order to advocate for voices that couldn’t advocate for themselves. I’m still in the midst of this battle, and have felt so much transformation by fire in the process. It’s far from over, and I’m so certain there are going to be much more trials and challenges, but as I move through each one I feel myself shed a little fear and a LOT of weight. Doing the right thing doesn’t reward you with rainbows and ribbons and trophies and butterflies. It poses great difficulty after great difficulty, continuing to knock you down over and over and over. I’m becoming less afraid of standing back up again each time, no matter how hard it is or how much I want to escape the warfare of the situation.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hey, I’m Kelly Romo — an Atlanta-based artist who makes raw, female-led alt rock with a sharpish edge and a lot of heart. My project writes about self-exposure and the messy parts of being human: manipulation, self-exposure, identity, grief, resilience — all the things we don’t always say out loud, but probably should.

What makes my project unique is that I don’t want to shy away from the darker corners of myself. Our performances ride the line between catharsis and community — you get the heavy, emotional punch of introspective and honest lyrics, but also the humor and disarming energy we naturally bring. I’ve built my brand around being fully myself, no filter — the loud, the vulnerable, the unfiltered mental illness, and the unabashed nature of authenticity.

Right now, I’m working on rolling out new music, growing my street team community, and bringing my band to as many stages as possible. I want people to feel like part of the community – in honoring every dark and twisted parts of ourselves, and giving them light in order to move into our better versions. My hope is to build a movement pulling back the curtain entirely on who we are, leaving nothing up for interpretation and in turn, taking back our power, together.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
The part of me that attached to fear. I think I grew up thinking I wasn’t talented enough to be musical. I didn’t have an incredible ability to play instruments or sing. I thought that just because I wasn’t born with natural bravery or “talent” I couldn’t do any of the things I wanted to. As I’ve grown and lived, I have learned that skill sets are not bought, but won through practice and dedication. That if I adopt music as a daily practice – like brushing my teeth – I can grow into the artist I used to only dream of. I’ve learned that voice in an instrument I can commit to and that just because someone doesn’t like my voice or my music or the art I make doesn’t mean I’m not meant to make art. It’s a grueling process of discovery, that I still battle with day in and out. But fear is a decision that I can choose not to make, and instead approach with curiosity and further commitment to my authentic self. So what if someone doesn’t like my voice or my song? As long as I do, then I think art is worth me making

When did you last change your mind about something important?
What a fun question. I despised the idea of living in Atlanta once I graduated college. I was heavy into DJing, festivals, future bass, all the stuff that 2017/2018 was brimming with as a young and ambitious kid pursuing something I thought I couldn’t live without. I basically lived between Atlanta and New York City – determined to scoot over there with Atlanta as a stepping stone and DJ deep into the scene of my dreams. Swapping the decks for a mic was never in the cards for me at the time, and certainly not staying in Atlanta as long as I have. I never had plants, art on my walls, anything more than a crash pad of a 22 year old that wanted to be anywhere but where I was. 2020 put a lot of pressure on my production and music making as I took a break from the clubs and DJ scene I was so heavily involved in. I found out that I didn’t truly enjoy making the music that I played. That I didn’t even know what it would mean to hear my own song coming out of the booming late-night speakers. That as much as I loved the party scene and the music I played, it was far fetched from what felt authentic to me to make. I have taken quite a musical and creative shift as I have grown and played in different arenas of music and performance. I never could’ve imagined doing the things I’m doing now – with a band, with a guitar and key board, and god forbid with my voice. It’s a bravery I never thought I didn’t have, and couldn’t have anticipated having today. I feel like when you’re young and ambitious you can get tunnel vision about the things that you want. That if you don’t get the SPECIFIC thing you’re gunning for or dreaming of in an isolated period of time, then you’re a failure or you resent yourself. It’s been a shift that altered a lot of my perspective. And although I miss the fun and youthful energy of DJing (which I still get to do if I just take the opportunities), I really couldn’t imagine not being the artist I’m becoming. A totally different field, a totally different energy. Sometimes I get in my feels and wonder if 22 year old kelly would be proud of me for going the way that I have. But present me is proud of me, and I feel like that’s much more important.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
Integrity with honesty maybe? I really believe in holding your ground on what you believe in, and I really believe in holding a community with the same values as you, or values that you respect. I’ve seen so much double crossing and lack of loyalty in the circles I’ve swam in, and as a result I feel like those circles have grown smaller. I’ve mourned a lot of close loss over the past year, and harsh lessons of what I stand for and what I believe in have caused residual loss to surmount and continue into my daily life. A lot of nostalgia depression has prompted me to thing long and hard about what is important to me. It’s also taught me the value of community and chosen family, and that just because you’ve maintained relationships or efforted closeness with some people doesn’t mean you’re obligated to continue it when things shift and change. There’s been a lot of external influence shifting dynamics in some of my spheres, and I’ve had to wrestle with the shades of betrayal and disappointment resulting from my attempts to cling to the things that were important, that I feel is missing from who I am. I have adjusted my relationship to things that hurt me and situations where the discomfort far outweighs the benefit. It’s probably taken me much too long to figure this out, but I’m glad I’m doing it now. It’s tough work to dissimilate from things I used to so strongly identify with, and to get more comfortable with the loneliness that follows. It’s like picking the tougher, initial pain over the long term miserability of friendships or situations that show me over and over again who and what they are. I feel like real community and friendship isn’t blind loyalty – but sticking up for our best selves and pushing those around us to do so as well. To be able to say “hey, i love you, but maybe that wasn’t the best move” as well as being able to hear that without bracing defensiveness. I want an environment that betters me, and I want to provide an environment where people feel safe screwing up while also accepting that I’ve got your back, but to me that means holding you to the standard of goodness, forgiveness, reparability and amelioration that I only hope those around me can hold me to as well. It’s not tough love, it’s honest love in an environment that makes you feel safe not being the best version of yourself and understanding that that isn’t who you are, but rather your ability to recognize and grow from it being at the forefront. And loyalty when swords are crossed in overlapping circles, or just a broader understanding of the feelings of others in conjunction with your own. Probably an overzealous mouthful, but definitely something I feel passionately about.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. What are you doing today that won’t pay off for 7–10 years?
Ummm buying a house? Such a gamble in this day and age. Potentially at odds with a day job I’ve blown the whistle against for mistreatment and abuse that I couldn’t stomach witnessing. Writing a bunch of songs that will just hit the universe one day with nothing but hope for an impact. I feel like living these days is living with debt in multiple forms. Money is fleeting and stupid and unfortunately important simply because a selfish society told us so. We are indebted to people who give us things, to our friends and families for support, for literally everything and anything. There always seems to be a tit for tat in every environment. I hope that changes or that some part of me can change that. There may be a sort of peace in adopting actions that reflect our beliefs, even in the face of enormous opposition. It’s hard to oppose a system we are so deeply ingrained into. The decision to buy a house was a hail mary of hope in the security of the future, and the mental health of the present. And more like 30 years of paying it out. The music? It’s worth it to apply to grants, work a million jobs and bust my butt to not only get a product I’m proud of, but pay the dues to those involved in a way that feels fair. As an artist, I know how much people expect from artists without their worth in return. I’ll be paying for these songs for easily the next decade, in more ways than financially (although that’s a massive chunk), but mostly I’ll be paying the debt to my friends, family, and community for much longer than 7-10 years. I’m lucky to be given so much from the people who invest in me, care about me, and support me. I will be happily paying and pouring from a very full cup back to those who’d give me the shirt off their back, the share of my song or a stream or 100 on a rainy day. It goes a long way and I’ll give every ounce of gratitude in action and practice for years and years and years.

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Image Credits
second 2 photos are @lanebmagazine

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