Perhaps it is her dual identities that fascinate us so much. Managing to keep us spellbound somewhere between laughter and tears, Rosie Thomas often makes appearances as Sheila, the geeky, neck-braced pizza delivery gal (Thomas’quirky alter ego from her stand-up comedy routine), and of course, she often shows up on stage as an enchanting folk-rock chanteuse. Whoever she personifies, she always has a mesmerizing effect on her audience. We want to titter at the awkwardness and clumsy oddities dished out by Sheila, and when she flips her own gilded coin to become Rosie the singer, we all share goosebumps, sighs and tears evoked by her heartstirring songs.

So Rosie Thomas, the singer - the vocal love child of Karen Carpenter and Gillian Welch - floats like a melancholy butterfly through a gossamer sky accompanied by the distinctive Seattle indie-sound. Pianos, simple drum arrangements, violins, cellos, and guitars make up a structure for her to fit into and shine through. However, the instrumentation hardly seems to matter, because her voice is so remarkable that it could easily be the only thing you will remember. Neverthless, pay close attention to the moving lyrics, the warm and earthy music, and the meditative melodic structures. Each little vignette in “When We Were Small” is the aural equivalent of flipping through pages that have fallen out of thriftstore photo albums, abandoned long ago by someone whose life still begs to be remembered.