Questions for Erin Wilson, founder of Until Love Is Equal, director of Wealthy Theatre and board president of ArtPeers.

You're involved in Wealthy Theatre, Until Love Is Equal and ArtPeers. What's your main focus for 2012?
I couldn't say one would be less immense than the other. There's the centennial campaign at the theatre and ArtPeers is in the middle of a major reboot. Of course, we carry on with Until Love Is Equal.

Until Love Is Equal began in June of 2011 as a response to the City of Holland's June 15 vote excluding sexual orientation and gender identity from an anti-discrimination ordinance. How has the movement grown since then?
I think it's grown largely because it's a positive movement. It's not angry, it's beyond reactionary. And for me, I come at this as a straight, white, male conservative. It's really about loving a group of people enough to say, "I don't care what you do in the privacy of your home with your partner, that's how much I love you."

At times, it was mistaken as a boycott of Holland. But really, it's more about supporting the businesses and organizations that are welcoming to all customers. How do you make sure that point is clear?
We've had a series of efforts that involved e-mailing, messaging, calling and in-person visits to try to extend this invitation. There are a number of businesses that are on the list that initially weren't because it wasn't clear enough that we were not a boycott. We worked with them to clear that up in the description of what we're doing. We're not doing anything negative or otherwise about businesses that are not on the list.

I find it interesting that you're approaching an issue that's normally labeled as ‘liberal' in a conservative manner.
It's one thing that's inadvertently made this movement different. I think that we probably puzzle some of our partners. It's a complementary thing. Obviously we're working toward the same end, but the thing that's different about Until Love Is Equal is it that it's a single focus. The best thing that could possibly happen is that we render ourselves useless by having these protections put in place.

So you've reached your goal if you don't need to exist?
People are going to read this interview in 50 years and it's not going to make any sense. I or the people that are in Until Love Is Equal shouldn't be looked at as doing anything enlightening. This is pretty basic stuff. You shouldn't get points for saying something so obvious.

Until Love Is Equal and Brewery Vivant are partnering for a Valentine's Day event. At the event, you'll be selling buttons and stickers. What more can people expect?
Brewery Vivant is planning an inspired, non-Hallmark Valentine's Day event 'for everyone else' — a 'lonely hearts club' with amazing food pairings, beer samples, truffles and camaraderie. And a portion of all sales goes to Until Love Is Equal. (More info)

Let's talk about you a little bit. Where did you grow up?
I was born in Muskegon Heights and I lived in Grand Rapids for a year, then I moved to New York. I lived in the Dominican Republic for a while.

When did you leave Grand Rapids?
In late 1998. When I moved to New York and Santo Domingo it was to immerse myself in something that was much bigger than myself.

What did you do in New York?
I went to New York to become a writer. I've written since I was 12 years old, but you get there and you realize how much of an uphill climb that is. That's not casting it in a bad way.

What brought you back to Grand Rapids from New York?
[My partner, Amy, and I] got pregnant and at the time, it really wasn't the place to raise a child, so we looked at different options. There's the two-Indian-restaurant rule: I would never move to a city that didn't have two Indian restaurants, so that was a fundamental part.

It's also given you the chance to be a fundamental part of organizations.
We have this opportunity right now to shape our future. This doesn't come along very often and that's where with ArtPeers, our first mandate was to try to address the lack of sustainable options for artists. If we feel like we benefit from them, we have to make a place for them by giving them a level playing field.

You have three kids, two boys and a girl. Do they participate in the work you do?
If my kids are at a sound check with me, they'll go up to the performer — whether it's Michelle Shocked or somebody local — and they'll say, ‘This is my Papi's theatre.' And it's completely not my theatre, but it's really cute to hear.

Interview conducted, condensed and edited by Lindsay Patton-Carson. Photos by Seth Thompson.

Surrounded by saws, drills, wood-benders and other tools of the guitar-making trade in his basement, Drew Nelson held the mahogany panel next to his ear and tapped it with his fingers.

"It really rings," he marveled. "It has a character and a sound to it."

That handsome slice of wood soon will become the top of another Nelson-made acoustic guitar, forming the vital soundboard that distinguishes each instrument, giving it a distinctive resonance.

Perhaps it's only apropos that the veteran Grand Rapids singer-songwriter has turned some of his musical passion toward making guitars the past four years: He's long been a lyrical soundboard for Michigan's rough-hewn common folk and its inspiring natural beauty.

Now, he'll share that poetic vision on a bigger stage.

Signed last year to a three-record deal with Minnesota's Red House Records, Nelson officially releases his fourth full-length album Feb. 14, with a pre-release show in Grand Rapids Feb. 3.

Unlike his earlier albums, Nelson's new release falls under the auspices of a national label with a reputation for fostering some of the country's best Americana artists: Greg Brown, Eliza Gilkyson, Loudon Wainright III, John Gorka, Danny Schmidt, Lucy Kaplansky.

It's the sort of credibility and backing sure to spark broader radio airplay and ramped-up touring across the United States and overseas. (Of Irish and Scottish descent, Nelson already has cultivated a following in Ireland where he's performed previously; he'll tour the United Kingdom, Belgium and the Netherlands this fall.)

Alerted to Nelson's music after 2009's independently released Dusty Road to Beulah Land, which won a host of local awards, Red House executives snapped up the new album, Tilt-A-Whirl, that Nelson recorded last winter at Grand Rapids' Mackinaw Harvest studios

"This will be the record to open some doors," Nelson said, buoyed by the notion that a widely respected label had "taken the time to sift through X amount of people" and put him in their stable of artists. "The goal is to tour for the next 12 to 15 years."

Tilt-A-Whirl also marks a shift in sound, with instruments such as a Hammond B3 organ, by an artist who isn't content to stand still in the singer-songwriter genre.

"I got real comfortable with rocking out a bit more," Nelson said of the album recorded mostly live with Grand Rapids producer Michael Crittenden. "I think the writing's better, more concise."

The "gritty" album — mastered in Colorado by the Grammy Award-winning David Glasser — still tells the stories Nelson has told so well for years: poignant love ballads, rustic tales of the downtrodden.

A few rock-edged tracks boast blistering electric guitar work by Crittenden and Brett Lucas (guitarist for Detroit soul singer Bettye Lavette). Nelson also called on veteran Michigan musicians Mark Schrock, Drew Howard, Brian Morrill and Jen Sygit to back him on the project. They holed up for more than week in the studio amid a snowstorm, Crittenden recalled, "with the fireplace running full tilt, candles burning, lights down low and a great group of musicians who all understood our vision so well."

Crittenden, among the first to encourage Nelson to pursue and record his music more than a decade ago, sounds like a proud father these days.

"It has been rewarding to see Drew grow into a songwriter who can get deep inside the experiences of the wealth of characters he sings about," he said. "He has become a master of singing from their perspective."

That perspective has roots in a humble upbringing near Kent City, where Nelson learned to appreciate the hard work put in by his electrician father, local foundry workers and farming neighbors, where he found joy sitting on the porch listening to folks churn out songs.

His life experiences since have grounded his music even more: a stint in the U.S. Navy, working construction and odd jobs, embracing traditions of the Native American community thanks to Two Dogs, a friend he's known since age 3.

"I get a lot of strength from them and so much love. It really resonates with me," said Nelson, who lives in Northeast Grand Rapids with his wife, Nicole.

It's all made the budding luthier with long, dark locks a colorful and outspoken artist, Schrock said.

"Honest, a little gritty, a little sentimental, a little populist," Schrock said. "Suffice it to say, Drew Nelson is the real deal."

Nelson also is eager to finally unleash Tilt-A-Whirl on the world, more than a year after writing and recording the album.

"I'm ready for this to get out," he said. "It's not about me, it's about the material and getting it out in the best way. I'm aching to share it with people. I'm itchy to let it be alive."