About “Tale to Tell”

This is a tough one for me. My favourite on the record but hard to sing sometimes. I wrote it just after my father passed away with a beautiful songwriter, Michael David Thomas.

Sometimes the ones that are the hardest to sing become the ones that bring the most peace when you face them time and time again. I played piano on it, I haven’t played piano since I was a little girl so it was so beautiful to reconnect with that instrument, especially for this song for my father.

It’s about forgiveness and loss and confusion, so many unspoken words that we will never get to say to each other. I don’t have regrets, just sadness about some parts of our relationship. I don’t have answers and I will never have them. The answers died with him. I don’t know what it was like when he grew up, I don’t know what made him unable to share his love. I know he was a lonely only child, I know he went to boarding school and missed his Mum and his dog, I know he was teased. He kept so much to himself as an adult and drank too much. He had a kind and generous heart but limited ability to love well. We found it very hard to connect, apart from our love of country and western music and Banjo Patterson’s poetry. He loved looking at the stars, he loved gum trees and reading and I can hear his voice in my mind. He was so intelligent and loved speaking latin. I hope I don’t forget what he sounds like. 

His last weeks were very painful as my family and I watched him slowly grow weaker and eventually he passed away in the early hours of the morning. I sang to him every day, all of his favourites. Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Hank Williams. I put my crystals around his bed and plugged my salt lamp in so he would be surrounded by a warm, soft light. I held his hand and told him I loved him and that everything was going to be okay.

This song sounds like angels comforting me and my Dad. I listen to it and let the love wash over us.

We found a catterpilar outside and put it on our fiddle leaf fig inside in Dad’s last weeks. It munched away at the leaves and then it made a cocoon. The day after my Dad passed away I found a butterfly had emerged. It’s wings were still wet. When it’s wings had dried, it started flying around the room. I caught it in my hands and sent it off into the night sky. I watched it fly off with tears streaming down my face. I didn’t want to let go but I knew it had to go.

Tale to Tell is out 26/7

Slow Dance is Out Now!!!


Hello beautiful  listeners, supporters and friends,

I’ve made some things! I’ve nearly finished my fourth album and it’s a beauty. A strange beauty. It’s genre-less. It’s open and from the heart, as always. It was hard to write, harder to make. The stories in it have wrecked me while I wrote them but it has brought me so much peace to let them out and let them go.

Some days I’d be full of confidence about what I was making, other days I had nothing to give and felt completely overwhelmed and lost. I’m piecing things back together, little by little, slower than ever before. Gaps between each burst of creativity.

The beauty of taking my time is that I get to really feel every step, pausing between the busier moments and sitting with feelings and sounds and songs for longer. Questioning, listening, wondering. Rediscovering parts of myself that I haven’t seen since I was a little girl. Finding joy in playing a piano and following that feeling. Saying ‘let’s hit record and see what happens’ even though it’s been 15 years since I last played one properly.

Seeing what happens is beautiful. Walking off the track is too. I’m so far off the track sometimes, I think I’m lost. But I look up, find Orion and breathe. And know that I’m right where I need to be, even if I don’t understand it.

I’ve been a difficult artist, constantly changing my mind. Being strong and sure and weak and vulnerable all at once. Asking for what I need and taking it and throwing it away and asking for something else.

I am searching, uncovering.

I am exploring.

I can’t wait to show you the things I’ve found.