Lauren Dillen’s songs are arborescent, growing with tender determination. This suits the Toronto singer-songwriter, whose love of plants extends from the metaphors in her songs to the plant cyanotypes she crafts as album artwork to her work as a tattoo artist, specializing in vintage botanical designs. With a mindful approach, Dillen’s folk songs uncover the understory by keenly observing what’s on the surface. As she sings, “we watch the leaves shoot up as the roots shoot down.”

While Dillen’s soothing voice and deft musicianship can be heard through her work with folk-rock quartet Burs, her solo project is all about self-work and following her instincts. Her songs are reminiscent of Joni Mitchell, Laura Marling, and Andy Shauf, with soundscapes informed by ambient musicians like Emily A. Sprague.

Dillen's new single “Candles” inspects “the nature of a long term relationship; the feeling of years rolling by, small moments of appreciation, complexity, care, negotiation (and renegotiation), choosing (and choosing again) commitment to one another. Like a child on their birthday, a bit of blind faith might be required.”

Lauren Dillen’s music resonates with the confidence of someone who knew who they were at a young age, despite their conservative environment. Growing up in Brooklin, Ontario, Dillen was one of the only openly queer people in her rural high school. Songwriting, especially writing her first guitar-and-voice love songs, became a means of exploring her identity. Though there was no music infrastructure in town, Dillen was driven to create her own performance opportunities, starting open mics and offering sets at local restaurants—“Most people would describe me as strong-willed,” she offers, smiling. These creative outlets were also fundamental to Dillen’s sense of self, “ways to fill her cup of self-esteem,” and she knew, “if I wasn’t careful, it could have been knocked right down.” Soon Dillen was performing constantly, whether singing in the jazz choir or playing her own songs at a café, until she went to study at Humber College and found her feet in Toronto’s indie scene.

The throughline of Dillen’s music over the years has been truthseeking. With refreshing, intentional arrangements, she shares songs with the intimacy of sharing a garment. “These songs aren’t necessarily the truth,” Dillen explains, “but I write them out to explore the truth, to explore what something actually looks like.” Dillen unveils the feelings that linger behind a relationship, expressed through precious details in soft light—a trait she shares with fellow Toronto songwriters like Sister Ray and Charlotte Cornfield.

With a fresh excitement for performing her music and a newfound connection to her own truth, Lauren Dillen is basking in all that arises. “I don’t have to push towards the things that I want,” Dillen reflects, “I can just allow them to unfold.”