Nikki Moddelmog was a sports kid: basketball, track, volleyball. She was good, too. She was never really drawn to music. She played flute and saxophone and sang in the choir, but she didn't love it. It just wasn't her.
"I liked music as much as any other kid in Moundridge high," she says. "I liked the songs that I heard on the radio while I was driving around."
"I’ve always wished I had one of those 'I've been singing since I was three years old' kind of back stories, but it just isn't true," she says. "In fact, I was terrified to sing for my chorale teacher."
But in her college years, she made some friends who played music. For fun. At home. "They didn't have a TV," Nikki recalls. "They just had instruments. That's what they did for entertainment – they played music in their living room. And they communicated and connected. That was it for me. I wanted that."
So, Nikki bought her first guitar – “a terrible no-name dreadnaught from the A-1 pawn shop” – and learned five chords and started learning songs. When You Say Nothing at All. Elderly Woman Standing at a Counter. You Were Meant for Me.
She played those songs in that living room, with those friends. And then more songs – her own songs – with more friends in more living rooms. She began to find her voice, her confidence and herself. And it felt right.
She's gone fast and far since then. With hundreds of shows, two solo CDs and a thick sheaf of original tunes to her credit, she has built a rock-solid following as one of central Kansas' most notable singer-songwriters. Big stages, big audiences, and a hard-earned big-time reputation.
But for now she'd just like to get back into those living rooms.
“I don’t really love a big, packed weekend bar gig as much these days,” she says. “I like a more intimate crowd. A smaller crowd. I like Tuesdays. I like playing 8 ’til 10.”
She explains that it’s really just the process of finding the right audience – an audience that’s receptive to the music she wants to deliver. And she has found that audience by playing house concerts.
“My favorite way to play is with a small, engaged crowd. Like, a fire with 12 people gathered around it, and me telling my stories and playing my songs by the fire.”
These smaller shows feed a lot of needs. Lower volume. More intimate connection with her audience. More reasonable hours. They are, in a word, healthier.
Good health is a primary concern for Nikki. She earned a degree in kinesiology, and is a massage therapist with a long list of devoted clients. “My job is to make people feel better. My music is supposed to be part of that, and it’s a little easier to fill that role when the audience sits little closer.”
Nikki's pursuit of a perfect balance of physical, emotional, creative and mental health led her to depart for Esalen, the renowned California retreat, and its promise of "deep change in self and society." It was thrilling and enthralling. And, she discovered, it wasn't what she needed.
"Back home, I wanted to run. I wanted to travel. I wanted to play for new audiences. I wanted to get out of Wichita," she says. "And then I found this beautiful oceanside paradise and these beautiful people – and I was shocked to realize it was not a better situation."
"I couldn't wait to get home," She says. She returned to Wichita a short season after her great West coast adventure began. “And I couldn’t be happier about it,” she says.
Back at home, Nikki is in a musical growth spurt. She is declining many gigs and social engagements so she can spend more time with music. She has started vocal training with Tony-winning diva Karla Burns. She has a growing collaborative partnership with classical cellist Susan Mayo, and she sings with her swingin’ trio The Sidecar Royals. Her stellar four-piece all-star folk-pop band The Mischief Makers is still a powerful regional force. And, if that isn’t enough, she is fervently exploring jazz.
Nikki first found jazz – along with contentment and love – through her former partner Gary Palsmeier, a noted mandolinist and luthier, who died in 2010. After his passing, his music remained, as did all the legit jazz that had filled Nikki’s home during their time together. 
“Listening to him play, that was when it all sunk in. I really love that style of music,” she says. “Even the weird tacky-smooth jazz, it still takes me back to a very cool place.”
After a long musical and personal pause, she started co-writing with guitarist Shane Marler. His chops are drenched in jazz, swing, gypsy and vaudeville, and the songs they wrote together became the foundation for The Mischief Makers. “And now I have a project with a jazz pianist, singing old jazz standards,” she says.
“I'm not a math student. I don't understand jazz theory, and maybe I never will,” she says. “But I love to sing it. I love the melodies, the structure, the vibe that comes with it. So now I'm figuring out how to incorporate that jazz feel into my original work.”
She still wants to travel, and she still wants to play for those new audiences – as long as she can still make her way back to her starting point. "I spent a lot of time trying to get away from myself," she says, "but now I'm trying to get back to who I am."
But refusing to run is not the same as standing still. Through her collaborations, her desire to reach new types of listeners, the expansion of her hard-earned folk-pop repertoire with a new jazz swagger and her fearless introspection, she is, perhaps more than ever, entirely herself. She is finding her center by exploring her perimeter. 
"I guess …” She pauses, and then grins. “Apparently, I’ll always be me,” she says.