Category: My Blog

Think of who you were as a kid. Just go back for a second to those silent moments when you were happiest. What were you doing? How did you navigate your world?


I did not grow up with Music. Instead there was the sounds of a world expanding. A cacophony of noises where the only voices that mattered belonged to my Mother, my granny and the aunties.  The smell of old books, new books. Ink stains on everything. The reassuring aroma of comfort food and always, always the dream of Music. The men functioned on the outer edges. Somewhere in the distance. Often spoken of as though they were a different species with sacred rituals and an arcane language we knew little of.

Gilda, aka Granny G

Very little has changed. Perhaps growing up hurls us back to that past where we are confronted by what is missing.  Then and now. My little world is still filled to the brim with the voice of women, young and old. Offering advice, trading funny stories and occasionally recipes. The men are, strangely enough, still at a distance. Thanks to the courage of female pioneers who risked their skins on the outer edges, we know a bit more now. Our stories less puzzling, still as ludicrous and funny, yet still dashed with just enough mystery to induce awe.

Daughter and I

I meet all manner of people. Constantly I ask myself, upon meeting anyone – are you the kind of person I want to invite into this world of mine, peopled by wonderful humans who regard every day as a surprise? Humans who speak in riddles, are dazzled by the sounds of children’s voices, who laugh easily and in whose presence I know only peace? Am I that person to you?

Noel, Carla and Kyle

Relationship of every kind provide opportunities for us to become intimate with ourselves.  Once there we know the peculiar taste of our fears and desires and are asked to decide accordingly.  With each thought and action only one question requires answering – just how well am I loving you and myself in this instant?

My sister and I

Yeah…I miss my friend Noel. Even though he is dead….I speak to him often. Especially after writing a new piece of Music. I picture him laughing, pouring a whiskey, ensuring that the sound is just right as I play the Music I just created in studio. I carry every single person I love with me. And I love deeply when I do. They are the small prayers I carry with me wherever I go….as I dream and live in the Music I am becoming.