Welcome back to me or maybe just another beginning.
For reasons I am sure I will write on here at some point, I haven’t been making the most of this blog.  Seems to be becoming time for that.
April has been one of the ugliest months of the rainy season here in coastal BC.   The other day I walked by a house I lived at in 2010 when I first moved to the west coast.  So my mind went back to those times.  
Very depressed times for me.  
I moved from Halifax to Vancouver with a slow meander across the country arriving just before the Winter Olympics.  This time was quite fun, but the post olympic winter blues, being broke after gradually moving across the country, waiting until spring to start a job, not knowing anyone in this town, the pieces of me I had left behind.  It all added up not so sweetly.  Not saying walking by the house triggered some sort of fall into an abyss, more just memories of those days and some amazement of the journey since. 
Since 2010 I haven’t spent much time in Vancouver itself, just a within a 4/5 hour radius in every direction but due south and north.  That is until one of my sisters started living here a couple years ago.  For most of those years I was in smaller towns, in the nature, the quiet so when I came to the city I was overwhelmed. Since all this time in the last while in Europe, I have been wondering sometimes where all the people are?  Perspective diversified. 
When I walked by my old house, saw the window of my old room in the loft, a series of memories flashed by, but the one I told my sister, who I was walking with was of the roommate who turned out to be a killer.
I always knew he was a strange dude.  You would come home at night and he would be sitting in the dark, sitting facing the wall.  You could maybe give him some sort of meditation pass for this, but combined with other things, you knew something wasn’t quite right.  He would talk about how he would go running and enjoy sneaking up on, startling woman pushing strollers.  He wasn’t pleasant to be around or talk to, but he never was too aggressive with me, but after two new roommates moving in and out in successive months the landlord kicked him out.
A few years later, I was in Kamloops with some friends having a bbq and the Canucks were on the television, in a playoff game.  When the game ended the news came on and the first story was to watch out for this guy going around the Lower Mainland shooting people he held grudges with.  Old bosses, landlords, coworkers, roommates.   And boom, there is my old roomate.
Not long after it was said he had been shot and killed in a shoot out with police.  They found he had notebooks full of information of his targets schedules, maps of the surrounding areas of their places, with getaway routes, and all this methodically organized.
It was quite chilling. 
Thankfully they got him when they did, so I didn’t have to worry to long about him coming after me.  
We didn’t really like each other as roommates, but I remember he did have some sort of respect for me. 
That might of saved me from his list.
Anyway,
Not really the warmest introduction, fit for this video; but during this time I was listening to a lot of M Ward.  Definitely a musical influence on me.
The roommate that replaced this guy after the landlord kicked him out was cool enough.  He actually inspired me to play more guitar.   
One day I came home from work and he asked, “Do you want to go to this show? The woman I was supposed to go with bailed on me.” 
I asked, “What is it?”
He said, “It is this guy and girl, called she and him at the Vogue Theatre.”
I said, “Sure I’ll go.”
When the guitar started playing, I thought, huh sounds a lot like M Ward.  When he started singing, I knew. But asked my friend, “Thats M Ward?” 
He said, “ya.”
I tried to learn this song back then, but didn’t know how to play in open D yet.  So in the last few days after all these thoughts triggered, I put some M Ward on for the first time in a long time. When this song, “Chinese Translation” came on I could hear why I could never teach myself a cover of this song before. But now I can.  Its still super raw.  I was just videoing myself to listen back and learn.  Had the thought, why not share.  Kind of fun that way.
Of course if you know the album, “Post War”, you know you can’t play “Chinese Translation” without playing “eyes on the prize” as well.

See you soon.

​I haven’t made a blog post in a year.  I should do better.

So over this winter I made a trade with the Market Garden in Vic West . In exchange for playing their piano they bought me flights to Europe on points.
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I leave on the 23rd! next week!

Victoria people do go shop at this Market/Garden!
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I am excited to build on last Autumns adventures where I spent time in Germany, Switzerland, and Poland.
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On that trip I “paid” for the trip by ordering my cds over there . Much cheaper than here. 1200 cad for 1000 cds here in Vancouver. 600 cad for 1000 cds in Europe. 

Took many steps of growth on that trip.  One new thing was being interviewed on the Radio

I am running low on the second thousand I ordered last Autumn and need to print a new run for the summertime.

​I did attempt to record a new disc at the Market Garden, exchange them this advertisement as well. However their is just too much of a refrigeration growl in the background there.
I am excited to record a new disc as everything has grown to a new level but I will print Live at Lucys for a third thousand and find somewhere sweet (maybe in Europe, maybe back in Canada.

A lot of people have My Medicine 9 which is the same artwork as Live at Lucys.

A lot of people have even older versions.

Hear the growth?

Anyway I am doing everything I can to have some funds appear for printing cds and this opportunity.

If you wish to pre-order one of this last run of Live at Lucy’s Or even the new disc likely printed in the Autumn Or just want to send me some donation to help me make the most of this Adventure, please do. 

Little bits go a long way in this life I live!

The well was over flowing through Autumn. So upon my First Nomadic Ivories post, in the days after Winter’s Solstice, I assumed I would write another soon.  I do hope to have a steadier stream of content to share my adventures with whomever is interested. However, every time I came to a checkpoint it was not the time to share.  Never make assumptions.
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jammin with BIll in Victoria BC 16/12/16

Although I spent most of it in Sunshine, it was a Dark Winter.  As Spring's Equinox approached I was hoping I would be inspired to pump something out. Naturally Life tends to cycle with the Seasons, and so I thought maybe Nomadic Ivories would find itself as a quarterly blog.  However, Equinox found me preparing to bury my Grandfather and spend more time in dormant Florida.  
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Until this month I had two Homely places remaining accessible with the depth of childhood memories. Deep Roots of Two Eff's and One Ef's.  

You see my Mother's maiden name is Schaefer.  When marrying my Father she simply added a second "f".  I used to be embarrassed by this until my Mom’s Uncle Brayton started exploring our lineage and discovered Royalty and all the incest that goes with it.  The story of my Mom’s side of the family lacking an "f" goes, when my Great Grandpa his Siblings and Parents immigrated to the United States from Alsace between the World Wars they arrived in Ellis Island of New York.  Whomever recorded their name into the books robbed them of an "f".  


"Here is one snippet, the "anchor person" (Dorothy Aske) was your 12th Great Grandmother and the superstars are on the third page." - My Great Uncle, Brayton Harris.
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In Kitchener, Ontario, formerly known before those wars as Berlin, the structure and property which housed the Two Eff home, in which my Father was raised, sold a few weeks ago. My only living Grandparent Shirley was ready to move into a condo and have much less work to do.  Congratulations Grandma!  

Meanwhile the One Eff Gulfview Perch was in the process of the same Fate. This past Monday a sale to my Friend and then Neighbor, George, closed. I write this on the Amtrak, a day of travel, from Northern California to Southern California.  Back amongst the Mountains, Forests, and The Pacific a New Chapter has begun and the time has arrived to write about the Last.
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The "Real" Florida Beach I grew up making Sandcastles on

The most famous part of Christmas at One Eff’s Gulfside Perch are the decorations.  A spectacle of lights, garland, and tinsel feed the festive Spirit.  Not to be a Grinch but two major consequences would bring wishes of simplicity.  
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First. What the rest of the family would consider my personal issue.  Being sensitive to/aware of electricity and electro magnetic fields requires a trick to thrive in this grid we live.  Spinning our own web sucking the life out of ourselves was magnified in this "living room".   
Beyond being zapped like a bug, the socially accepted issue was blowing tinsel.  In my opinion, despite the view the nicest feature of this Perch was the Gulf Breeze flowing through the 7th Floor, front to back or back to front didn’t matter, always pleasant.  Apparently, they do not sell tinsel in stores during these choking hazardous days and the breeze would blow the tinsel everywhere.  Grandpa would insist we shut the doors.  If we were lucky it wouldn’t be too breezy and we could open either the front door or the patio door. Even if their was minimal wind as soon as both sides were open the stuff would go flying.  ​
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a Video Draft of a Blossoming Song

When given an option between Fresh and Conditioned I will choose Fresh every time. From the Beginning of December until some years Valentine’s Day these decorations would hang.  Sometimes during this time the nights of Florida are cool and the lights would bring some welcomed heat.  However, some nights are warm and shirtless but the tinsels desire to hang had the power to bring about the outlawing of air conditioning.  So we would sit and watch Old Westerns sweating caught in our Self Spun Web.
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Two straight years I went to Florida to visit my Grandpa with the intentions of flowing with the flight patterns and hopping on a plane to Colombia.  Last year, after realising he would not be around much longer and that his loneliness was weighing him down I bought a 3/4 Yamaha Beach Guitar I have since named Sandy (she is often covered in sand and my Mother’s name is Sandra) and decided to spend some time with him.  This Winter I knew I wanted to spend some more time with him but for my own well being I would have to limit my time in this luxurious lonely prison.  On my way to Florida from Victoria I did discover another relief option.  I had been introduced to HelpX, a work trade matchmaker, by a couple German girls I had meet in the Summer through Couchsurfing.  I decided to take a look at what options might be available in Colombia, which led to checking what was available in Florida.  I discovered an opportunity to work on the repair of a couple large sailboats in exchange for unofficial sailing school.  As a water signed nomadic musician to sail seems a very useful skill.  I followed the path.
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Over the decades of having Family time in Florida, the Keys have always brought intrigue and wonder.  Apparently we discovered them in the Family Voyager Van when I was younger, but I only vaguely remember this.  Knowing my reasons to visit Florida were dwindling I felt like this was the appropriate exploration. With the hopes of finding vibrant life there, I figured I could bounce Back and Forth between the Keys and the Perch for a few months and Winter would be a sweet dream.  I brought the Martin. Sandy, my Trumpet, and around 500 piano cds. I figured I could work on boats in the morning, learn to sail in the afternoon, and play music around town in the evenings.
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The thing that surprised me most about the Keys is that they are basically some Islands connected by a Highway letting in the chaos of the Mainland with some hotels, restaurant and vacation "Homes" strung along it.  Even after journeying to Key West I was completely underwhelmed by the Keys.
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I did live in a million dollar house on a Canal with a nice Balcony, a baby grande Piano with a broken sustain pedal, a Tiki Hut complete with Bar and Grill from an establishment, and an 80,000 dollar sailboat, “Toby” docked in our Florida Key Oceanside Canal to learn on.  The deal was supposed to be in exchange for these things and food I was to be Carpenters Helper on Argentinian shipbuilder German Frers (Sr.) first boat he ever built, “Criollo”.  However, the only work I did on this boat in a month was to secure a tarp over the gash left by gutted rotten wood.  Most of the work I actually did was transforming this house of a packrat into thrive-able living situation.  I did learn quite a bit about sailing but not as much as I should have for the amount of time I was there. I do believe the guy, CJ, in charge of the volunteer program intentions were to follow through with a deal beneficial to everyone, but considering he had brain cancer he was physically and mentally unable to hold up his end of the deal.
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My First Time on a Sailboat as a "Sailor" with Guido, "Swab", and CJ.

Life on the Canal was the sort of situation where you spend your entire day living and working with people you wouldn’t necessarily find yourself surrounded by. As is often the case, it is amazing the Family type bond that was formed between us all.  However, as I was there I could sense my Aura dimming and diminishing.  All the "lucky" things that tend to happen to me started to turn in to things going wrong, or things breaking, or me finding a new injury. Even though I knew I should move on, I was determined on learning to sail.  My stubbornness squashed listening until the Signs got so loud I injured my foot so badly I couldn’t even walk.

I had decided it was a good time to make a video of my living situation to share online. The video ends with me cursing. What I didn’t see and neither does the video show is my friend Guido the Kiwi had left the bilge hatch open to continue working on it the following day.  I stepped on something, likely a screw head that punctured the middle of my foot in the same motion I rolled my ankle and my freshly opened foot dipped in the greasy bilge water. 

​Home Sweet Foot Injury

As you can see it is not even a good video! Most of it would benefit from some light to see!
I cleaned up the injury and thought it was unfortunate but no big deal. Had dinner. Had the idea to go for a kayak.  John from Grand Rapids, Guido the Kiwi, and I paddled out the Canals to open Water.  It was such a still night the Oceanside of the Keys was like glass.  After about an hour I knew I had to get back asap cause my foot was swelling. I had to hop around the house up the stairs to the room. 
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Recovering Days - first Time I left the patio/bedroom in a week.

​It is extremely humbling to physically be unable take care of yourself.  This puncture wound in the middle of my right foot is right has reeked havoc on my nerves through my foot and up my leg.  I was blessed enough my little sailing work trade Family helped me along even when I was able to hobble. After a breath of fresh air in the form of a drive down to Key West in Guido’s Van, Blue Bertha, I couldn’t neglect the Signs any longer.  It was time to take the next step in my journey before something catastrophic happened.

Key West's name hides its secret sunrise specialty

I was eager to get back to my One Eff Gulfside perch to give my foot the opportunity to truly heal.  The thing about my One Eff extended family, is I never had the privilege in my youth of spending any time with them until last year I was able to start getting to know my Uncle Steven.  While I was in Florida I had exchanged a few messages with a cousin who lives in Boynton Beach.  It happened.  I drove Blue Bertha with Guido the Kiwi, Anthony from France, and Alan from Jacksonville on board up through Miami to Boynton with all my instruments and most of the cds I arrived in the Keys with. 
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It is amazing what you learn about yourself by finding shared traits in family members. I found my understanding broaden by spending a couple nights with not one but two of my cousins I had never even truly met.  One time for a couple hours in Niagara Falls, one time for dinner at the One Eff perch. That was it.  The rewards of this new found connection has already come back wondrously.
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Dinner and Music first night getting to know my Cousins.

A couple days later I took a Greyhound from Fort Lauderdale to Naples and rested my foot in the Perch. I only did the 7/8 minute walk to the beach 2 times in the first week and I didn’t even take my usual daily swim in the gulf the entire 3 weeks i was there.  The wound was too raw.  
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Searched a few years to discover this tuning. February's Full Moon Setting while Sun Rises.

I started to experiment with some of my songs with the makeshift portable recording studio I had put together the year previous with the dollars I had set aside for Colombia.  It is amazing what you can do with an Ipad Mini, a Zoom Q, a simple mixer, a Shure sm 58, a Martin guitar, a Yamaha trumpet with a Harmon mute, and a Korg Microkey mini keyboard, (a mini keyboard for people who cant stand the idea of mini keyboards) in a bathroom. Certainly not big budget studio quality but these simple tools have allowed me to explore the sounds of my songs during their continuous writing process. I do this for the Growth of my Plants, my personal musical Growth, and when I reach the point of putting a band together, to take my tunes to the next level, I can share these and say, “ok here is a starting point.”
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A week after my Boynton visit my cousins Joanna and Stephanie came to visit myself and my Grandpa Edward.  Never did I ever imagine I would share the same time and space with this mix of people.  It was mind blowing.  For a variety of reasons my cousins didn’t feel comfortable visiting my Grandpa on their own.  I am thankful I was able to play a mediator role and bring us all together on this lovely day.
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Over the years I found three weeks is the most amount of time to healthy balance within the Vanderbilt Beach Bubble.  Even though my foot still had its struggles I flew to Vancouver.  My sister Alicia, a thriving woman who was once my littlest sister had started a contract at an animation studio close to Granville Island. She had a one bedroom condo to herself, new to the city, and we hadn’t had time together just the two of us in years. It was great time to re-identify with one of my closest allies who had just re-located into the heart of my world.  Exactly a week after I left Florida, just before the dawn of his 89th birthday, my Grandpa fell and hit his head. He spent his birthday on the floor struggling to call for help.

Edward Albert Schaefer lived a full life.  I will miss him but I know he was content with his time here and ready for his next adventure.  Of all my ancestors I was fortunate enough to know, I am most similar to him although in many ways we also couldn’t be more different.  I am grateful I spent the time with him over the last couple years for our relationship to stretch beyond the deep relationship we already had.  I couldn’t live and share in his lonely luxurious prison forever, but I do wish I had been there so he did not have to suffer on the floor.
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The day he passed was a Saturday.  Alicia was off work.  We had planned on doing some things but instead walked to the store.  The Chilean Wine Frontera he and Grandma Ann used to stock boxes of before driving Florida to Alaska year after year with the seasons was on sale and on the front shelf of the BCL.
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For a few years now, I have been creatively working hard to share my music at a grass roots level around the west coast of Canada. In my mind I have been building a fire from Victoria to Edmonton.  As it spreads around and between these places the obvious big missing log to lay in the middle of it all is Vancouver. For the last few years since my friend Dawson had a baby I haven’t really had an interest or a solid place to stay in Vancouver.  I look at my sister being there now as an opportunity to connect the dots.
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Two summers ago I was hitching over the mountains from Kamloops to Edmonton when my Martin decided enough travel was enough and cracked.  We had gone everywhere together for a few years and I felt terrible.  Luckily enough for those days, I actually had a few dollars to get her some help.  So I hopped on a bicycle near Century Park and biked to Whyte with her on my back stopping at music stores to find where to take her for some love and to find a temporary replacement. 
Along the way I learned two major things. Acoustic Music Shop at Whyte and 99th was the place for the repair and the 3/4ish traveling guitar I should seek was an Art and Lutherie Ami. I went to the  recommended repair store and they said you have come to the right place, but we cannot work on Her for at least a few weeks.  I said ok sign me up but when I tried to leave they tried to insist I leave her behind. I convinced the guy to keep my spot in the que but let me take her with me until I found a replacement.  
From Whyte I biked way up North Edmonton to visit my childhood friend, Rhiannon.  I hadn’t seen her in years and now she even had a daughter!  After she asked and I told her about my day she said I have a guitar you can take on your adventures.  She pulls out a beautiful Art and Lutherie full sized guitar with the film still on the pick guard.  The thing is, I remember the Christmas she received this guitar as a gift from her parents when were kids! Brand new, couple decade old, hand made, Canadian Wood Guitar.  After all those years in the case was she ever ready to sing!
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Over the next year and a bit we went from Edmonton to Kamloops, Kelowna, Victoria, Up Island, over to Tofino, a little taste of Vancouver, and a special treat of Haida Gwaii. That is mostly it.  We still make sounds together sometimes but since December she has been hanging out on a homely stand in Victoria.  
As much as I appreciate the way she and all the guitars I have access to play I still was searching for that travel sized Art and Lutherie Ami.  Keeping an eye out on the internet I saw some now and then but none spoke to me other than an old green one a girl had already sold from her childhood.
I had brought the Martin back to Vancouver from retired days in Florida to play around the house and for shows but knew she wasn’t up for bouncing around.  I went on Craigslist and there she was.  Radiating beauty in all her photos; I knew before I even met or touched her.  For a little guitar she sings sweet and has the sound of herself. I have named her Fern after my Aunt that passed away last year.  I hope to travel the world with her over the next few years at least.
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After connecting the dots in Van I hit up the ferry to tend the plants in Victoria. Vic has been my main base for a few years now and I feel surrounded by love and support when I am there.  Every time I return I am blown away by the growth without my personal presence.  Music is an impactful magic.
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Some of you may know that last fall my Victoria dry season home in a clearing down a deer trail in a large beautiful park was raided by city workers working on removing that invasive vine that is always choking the oak trees.  All my best camping gear, a decent amount of clothes, my just breaking in 200 dollar shoes, my poofy blue down jacket perfect for a night sleeping outside, homemade gifted toque and blankets. All kinds of things got cleared out with a sign saying your things are at the public works yard call this number.  I went to the yard the next day and the manager upon realising who I was had walked out from the back office bursting out apologies.  Apparently the guy who was sent to collect my things on his own decided to throw it all in the garbage compactor.  I could of struggled to get some compensation, but apparently I would of had a tough time getting more than what they would fine me. Let it be. One of the guys working at the front desks was aware of what happened and offered me a tent! Within days I also had a sleeping bag and who else knows what of things replacing the surviving essentials of what I had lost.  Power of the community.​​
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During these days in BC I put it out there on Couchsurfing that I was looking to play house concerts.  I ended up playing for a party of hospital workers and living in a doctors mansion for nearly a week right around the corner from the park I love to call my Victoria summer home. It is an amazing feature of life when things are destroyed the unimaginable fills the space.
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The most rewarding musical situation I have found so far is the piano at Royal Jubilee Hospital.  Everytime I am blown away by witnessing the impact some peaceful Vibrations can have on worlds getting rocked.
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It doesn't take long for me to sense a lens pointed at me.  As per usually I gave these people a cd and said send me the photo/video!  They went the extra kilometer and created this.

​My Old Man whom I love and respect has often said don’t ever pull the chord on me.  From what living life has revealed to me and certainly cemented during this time at the hospital I wish to say don’t ever plug me in.  When it is time to go, it is time to go.  
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I do believe it great to strive to live healthy strong vibrant lives, but for people to be kept alive supported by electronics and chemicals I believe is doing nothing but torturing the patients, their loved ones, and the collective conscience.
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I returned to Florida to bury my Grandfather during the last week of March.  I was picked up at the airport and immediately taken to an imitation Fenway to watch Twins and RedSox baseball spring training game. It was the perfect moment for a distraction and it did not take long to feel retired. 
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Inspired by the time my Cousins and I had spent together my Mom and Uncles decided to use money from the Family trust to pay for my Siblings and Cousins to come together from all over the World. These were a beautifully unique few days as we got to know each other while disassembling the Home we all loved.  When the dust settled it was just myself, Fern, and Sandy with a fridge full of leftovers and a list of tasks to prepare the condo to sell.
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Something I noticed in Florida is any place serving food with nutrients is called a West Coast style eatery.  I desperately wanted to get back to where I feel freer to be me and share my music.  A lot of strangers around Florida would look at me and judge me as if Trump was needed to save my soul.  
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If you are painted as a Subject in an Artists Masterpiece it is tough to be aware of what is beyond the contents of the painting.
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In the last few years the people met, the doors opened, and the lessons learned thru Couchsurfing and hitchhiking have drastically altered my world for the better.  I was privileged to share the perch with 5 Surfers during this time.  It felt really good to give that source a proper pass back. 

Flor de Cana 5 year blended with Water, Ice, Mango, Pineapple, and Grapefruit. The drink of my Florida.

One of my couch surfers on an epic adventure around the Americas. North and South took this photo.

With these outsiders company, visits from my cousin Joanna, and all the work I managed to do on the condo, I kept stepping.  However, the day it sold was the day the grief really hit me.  
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I would have liked to fix the condo up nice, but I am content with passing it on into worthy hands and look forward to at least seeing some photos of its makeover someday. ​​
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One Last Walk Around the 705 Perch

Thankfully the page has turned and with this Scorpion Moon, with the Sun in Taurus (a mirror of my birth chart) we enter a new stage.

If you enjoyed this share it!  Much Thanks!

Also "click me" to go to my Patreon Profile.  I am hoping to develop a base of monthly contributions from individuals sponsoring the growth of my music, my travels, which I will continue to share with you readers and listeners in this modern scrapbook/continuous auto-biography.

​Little bits compiled together from many sources can go a long way!
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See you next time, with the next Chapter.

To document my travels has been an intention of mine for such an amount of time that it almost seems like I have done this before.  I have gotten better at recent years step by step with sharing glimpses into the world I discover to you the people I have met along the way.  However I am always getting told "More Picture" or more this more that. and I am constantly humbled by the people who flat out say I love to live vicariously through you and your adventures.  So here we are the first day of the days expansion; I find a fitting time to introduce my new blog which has been presented the name "Nomadic Ivories".

Yesterday was a day to be with Nature. I was lucky enough to be Kayaking with my brother down the Turner River through the Everglades of South Florida.  It was a 17 km paddle and for about the first 10 we saw way more alligators than people.  Everything is very gated and controlled in Florida so I am grateful we were able to find a little wild ness.  For much of the journey it was actually more efficient to pull ourselves along mangrove to mangrove than to paddle. Just gotta watch where you grab.

I have been spending time in SouthWest Florida my entire life as it has been the main base of my Grandparents.  It is an unlikely candidate for me to consider to be one of my homes as I have always felt I belong amongst this mix of people even less than other pockets of "civilization".  However it does have a place in my heart.  I am also spoiled enough to have a sweet perch of a condo and a top rated beach of the world just around the corner.  This walk seemed such a trek when I was young.  Most years my Grandparents would drive Florida to Alaska visiting and exploring along the way, with trips to other parts of the world mixed in.  They have been one of the inspirations of my Nomadic lifestyle.

By the sixth grade I had moved six times. Then I was home schooled for 3 years, as one of four kids with a sister who always couldn't stop talking (love you), before starting high school.  Then I went to a school for music which was full of prodigys and people who had such a range of experiences I found my sounds and confidence of my abilities further repressed.  For these reasons and some more of the more common ones until the last few years I was extremely shy in general but especially with my music.  I would go out of my way to not be heard.  But I did have a dream of where I wished I could be how I wanted to play, but was extremely aware of the seemingly impossible mountain, the hours with instruments I couldnt play and the musical growth that lay in front of me.  If you want to go somewhere but cant see how you can ever possibly get there, dont give up cause you cant see whats next; Just take the next step.

Much of the best music out there will never be heard and I understand why. It takes many lessons to learn to put your heart out there in sound for people to accept or reject in any manner in which they please.  Some people seem to have personalities where this comes much easier, but that is certainly not me.  I have just been fortunate enough to venture out into the unknowns of the world for life to teach me through a series of never ending transformations.

I am finally beginning this blog after over a decade of steady travel, new experiences likely worth writing about.  I will tell about those  times as we move along.  It is starting here now as it would seem my roots are vibrant and strong, my trunk is thick, my branches are reaching, and the fruit is starting to hit a legit level of deliciousness, abundance, and would be selfish to not share. I also probably would have written this first post over the last couple months but I did wish for the first post to be about this whole shift of confidence into a world of doing everything I can to share my music to its greatest impact as possible.  On this day 4 years ago I made this video of the classic "what a wonderful world".   Ive shared this every year since but it marks such a milestone for me I wished to place it here.

To me this was the first time in which I felt I purposefully touched people through this dimension vibrational sound moves.  It was created during a dark winter solstice by myself during my last visit for a few years to Edmonton.  I was spending the the last days in my parents house (home alone).  They were about to sell the haven where I had in years prior survived some of the most depressed lifeless days.  This is where I really learned to medicate myself with my music. When I made the video I was at a terribly troubled time in life as I was trying to make sense of my experiences.  I had just journeyed a few years of leaving and reentering civilization.  I was realising the power of every little thought and was becoming aware of a new level of what it means to be an empath.  All the wonders and horrors.

Thanks for getting through my first blog post! I hope you enjoyed it and I am excited to share more with you as life unfolds.

I like to sense what it is I sense in the trees.  I know yall got traditions and such which is cool, these things are rapidly infected and dieing by the tv.  But whatever your traditions are I wish you all be Merry!