Towards the Flame recap
Concert “Towards the Flame”. King’s Theatre, Annapolis Royal, NS. February 8, 2026.
“I see.
Of course.
It’s so simple. So simple.
All the contradictions, complexities, paradoxes, doubts, sacrifices, costs, ‘why’s’ aside -
Simply, simply:
It’s love.
It’s because of love.
Because at the core. In its purest, most honest, blatant form:
It’s because of love.
Because, ultimately, simply - we love it. We love it so much.
God dammit. Strip away everything. And still:
I love piano. So much. So much.
I love playing piano.
I really really love playing piano.”
I remember the night before I left for the tour.
It was in literal darkness. Literally, could not see. Power outage. Cold apartment. Down to the last wick.
That’s when I started using the book lamp. (Those of you at the concerts, you know, you saw.) That’s when I learned how to make a soft-boiled (roasted?) egg by candlelight. Also burnt/toasted stale bread. Lukewarm hard oats.
That morning dragging my suitcase through the pitch black hallway down the emergency exit (elevator also wasn’t working), the suitcase that will become my home for the next month, the blue h-mart bag on one shoulder carrying my one sole devoted travel companion to witness the in-between moments of this wild journey- my giant squishy avocado … well, that’s the first of many moments I started actually laughing out loud. From tears to laughter. How wild. How ridiculous. How real.
I cried multiple times a day on this tour. Sometimes tearing up, sometimes full out sobbing. Sometimes for myself, sometimes for others, for unknowable reasons, for past pasts, for losses, for people I miss, people who should’ve been alongside, for things that never were, for my fellow audiences, fellow strangers, our country, the world, the trees. Etc. etc. But - but -
One promise I honoured- as I wrote on the very first day:
“Have fun. <3. It’s an adventure. :)”
And I sure did.
Gosh, guys. Yes it’s been a journey exploring grief and darkness and loss. But -
It’s been fun. It’s been real.
“Jarvary 26, 2016 montreal
8.31 Am
Tears. Again.
It takes more than just immense courage.
More than just painstaking, renewed resilience to do the ‘immense courage” thing-
over -
and over -
and over -
again ://
To face, embrace, awe-
welcome the regression
with innocence
- a kind of trust
that is almost absurd
Foolish in its belief /
(naiveté)
[hope]
It takes more than just vulnerability.
More than just confidence, abandon, willpower.
Daring. Risks.
More than just discipline.
Or kindness.
To acept, marvel - at our limitations. Delight in our limitations.
Pushing beyond our limitations.
It takes more than just gratitude.
Mantras. Affirmations.
Prayer.
Ceremony.
Gentle strength. Fierce strength.
Caress. Wonder.
Wander.
Sacrifice. Solitude.
It takes, more than just emptying.
Depleting.
Again - and again-
The must-
willing-
sacrifice.
Remembering-
to play.
Keep - playing.
Breathe.
Simplify.
”Have fun.” Love.
take
make space.
What
does it take?”
From the darkness of my cozy Montreal home, I went to Halifax for the AI Nocturne premiere. From there, to another kind of blessed sacrifice - the intense training before going on stage. This Lunenburg week was … as memorable and precious as the tour itself. The deep digging. The discipline. The commitment. The dedication. The ‘nobody knows’. Just what it takes. Just what it takes.
So many late nights spent trekking through the snow, pass the cemetery, up to the 3rd floor of the Academy: to continue. To persevere. To dedicate my entire body and spirit to this craft, this calling, this duty and gift. To push, challenge, delight in my limitations. Again, and again. And again. Overcoming fears, doubts, frustrations. An unknowable, unspeakable kind of discipline, resilience, solitary sacrifice that is the necessary price for me to emerge bold and free and soaring on stage. The willing sacrifice.
I made 3 days out of one. Eat, practice, sleep, repeat. (Oh, but granted, in between those sessions I fully embodied the joy of cooking, of watching k-drama/anime, yoga, walks, silence - even swimming a moment in the freezing ocean after the sauna!). But also the strict/flexible/fun/gruesome/curious/exasperating training regimen: run through for colleagues, record and listen, record and critique, make practice notes, review practice notes, rewrite the same notes, marathon run-through 3 times back to back, run-through blind-folded, run-through after a couple of beers. Name it all.
Granted also, I felt the immense privilege and gratitude for having this space of the Academy, the support of the LAMP family and my most cherished host Marion (my breakfast/ideas-brainstorming partner who witnessed those in-between moments as I struggled through fine tuning this program). It was solitary but it was also a deeply supported, inwardly spiritual retreat. Deeply deeply cherished in its painstaking way.
To have something we truly believe worthwhile working hard for. And to have the means to pour ourselves into that work. That’s the most priceless blessing, isn’t it.
“January 31, 2026
8:55AM Lunenburg
The work, the dedication it takes.
The exasperation.
The discouragement. The appalling recognition- how was it we ever did this before?
What does it take. Again and again.
It’s just as much a mind game.
You’re no there just to prove something. Not even to yourself.
Perhaps - there’s got to be a relentless in the self-discipline, in the beating, the criticism -
But how, with grace, with generosity.
It will come.
The time will come and live and pass.
And when it comes -
Breathe, listen, live in it.
Trust, trust, trust.
And when yourself fails you-
Also be kind. You know that now.
Each challenge is an opportunity.
You’re getting close.
Embrace it. Live live live.
Live this humbling.
February 3, 2026
9:11AM Lunenburg
There’s a beautiful kind of knowing.
Not always clarity but -
Such a pointed focus.
A purpose.
What I must do. Each day. Each third of a day. The small and big tasks. The routine. The shaking of routine. How to challenge my practice. How to prepare. How to feed my body, my brain, my lungs.
Logistical tasks. Spirit tasks.
A warm room. My own torn sheets.
Avocado.
Working this hard yet-
Still laughing. Still sharing, loving-
This kind of determination.
Knowing, trusting the challenges and doubts to come.
Finally, feeling: yes-
I am prepared.
I am ready for this.
Not because things are now done, perfect, but-
I had. I have fully put in the dedication. The care, the thoughtfulness.
The embodiment now will move through my body.
I am full and empty.
A welcome void, dark, silence.
The trust, comfort in discomfort.
The thrill-
That. THAT. That tingling. That kind of out of body hearing, as if I were sitting out in the audience of a huge hall. Eyes closed, feeling the tingling vibration - from the floor, up my feet, to my fingers - THAT kind of listening, eyes closed, complete abandon, the pounding heartbeat.
That. THAT is the privilege.
Here we go.
February 4, 2026
9:21AM Lunenburg
And that’s a wrap. To this chapter. Pre-chapter yet-
This is part of the core.
The process. Living fully in enjoying the process.
How astonishing. The daily - digging, deeper, deeper.
So happy. So alone. So, too blue. Tears streaming down. Because exactly what I can’t articulate. Glad, also so deeply sad. Grateful. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s hard, it’s free. It’s gruesome, it’s limiting. All at once. The terribly terribly winter blue sky. The sun. The clouds.
The marathon. The body doing and not doing. “Mastery”. So close, so far. Beer and lamb. Muffins. Wagamese. The training we put ourselves through- just so we can trust, we can soar, we can be even more daring, more vulnerable.
Do. Whatever.
That conviction. That clarity. That intention.
Each time- learn something. Even just one thing.
What can you notice. What can you focus on.
Simplify.
Breathe. Hear the silence.
Loosen. Flow. Let your body dance. Let your soul lead.
Resist. Give in. Intervals. Rhythm.
Fire and Ice.
Let go. Let’s go.
//
Lose, fail, fall, mess up, whatever.
Still, I’m simply.
So happy.
Be it the dark practice room or the spotlight on stage.
So happy.
The feeling of, love.
The feeling of, surpassing myself. ”
Day 0, the day I hit the road to pick up the car/keyboard and drive to Antigonish, I already was a puddle. I teared up at the rental car location, remembering the last time I was there, how different a circumstance. I teared up after hauling all the rental equipment (speaker, bench, stand, keyboard) into the SUV. I bawled the entire 2 hour drive through the snow to Antigonish.
I was so acutely aware: of being on my own.
That this is a blessing of my choosing. I chose to do this. By myself. Alone. And so now I must. No self-pity party, no melodrama. No lonely, tough heroine persona.
So why still the immense grief. Sadness. Pity. Loss. No one to witness. No one to share with. Not the moments on stage, but this. The tiny moments in the margins: the silly derpy struggles, the little funny incompetencies, the astonishing, breathtaking sceneries, snow, sunsets, trees, hotel snack feasts, the passing of time, the suspension of time. Secrets. Joys. Hurts. Nobody knows.
But I guess, I know, there’s a profound beauty to that too.
And I grew into it. I grew into being my best partner. And again, yes. We had a lot of fun. A hell of a lot of fun being derpy, being glamourous, being fierce and soft and dearly dearly, ourselves.
“February 5, 2026
8:22AM Antigonish
Day 1.
This will be good.
This will be so beautiful you will cry your heart out again at the end because you have lived it all so bravely, so fully-
maybe at times not brave, not full-
but-
”It’s still fun though”.
”Remember, you care.
Remember, you love things.”
Believe in your own words.
Speak them, record them, write them.
If not, believe in the words of kindred spirits. Creator. Old woman. They’re with you.
Avocado. Strangers.
A heart that still makes you weep like this on the road.
Like a child, somedays - hurt, abandoned, lost, alone.
Wanting just the simplest-
assurance, touch, hug, comfort.
We need love.
Listen, listen.
Invite. Be generous.
Learn.
Self-control vs. self care.
Give yourself the love you desire. ”
Day 1, school show and Concert 1: Antigonish
I play like it’s the first and last time. Always. Because in someways, it’s true. That’s the truth. What a privilege. What courage. How good that risk, that daring, that failing and struggling felt. To play with fire, to play on the edge. And somehow, somewhere, it will reach someone. This I believe in.
School show “Map of the Heart”, St. Andrew Junior High, Antigonish. February 6, 2026.
Concert “Towards the Flame”, Antigonish, NS, Immaculata Hall. February 6, 2026.
Day 2, Concert 2: Dartmouth
Here we do it all over again.
Still crying on the road. Thank goodness for the drives to let me feel just what I feel.
“Keep - resting and loving.
This is worthwhile. Please.
Pay attention to energy - keep trusting yourself, your audience.
Be yourself.”
Concert “Towards the Flame”. Woodlawn United Church, Dartmouth, NS. February 7, 2026. Dartmouth Community Concert Series.
Day 3, Concert 3: Annapolis Royal
I really connected with the audience here. And the house staff. I felt the energy, the warmth, the reciprocity. I felt the care. It was such a wonderful surprise to be able to speak Mandarin to the tech director Devin! And such a treat to have a full lighting design to accent the mood of the pieces as it evolved throughout the concert. I thought 3 concerts back to back would take it out of me, but in someways perhaps this third one felt the most free and authentic. Each time, something unnameable, new, nuanced, magical occurs between the fingers, the keys, the hall, the hearing, the feeling, and the reacting. That keeps me playing.
“February 9, 2026
8:43AM Annapolis Royal
The most stunning post-sunset.
That fire pink. Deep deep. Saturated. Vibrant. Fiercely glowing. Fuchsia pink. Behind barren branches, framed by the lighthouse, just lighting up.
The liminal space between light and dark.
The chill, the silence, the empty -
And all of it, having purged and purged of these stories I carry for all of us:
A sense of tranquility.
Some calibration, equalization, levelling, levelled, steadiness.
Not detachment, not non-feeling.
But - a simple existing without feeling much. For once. Just staring at the calming ripples of water reflecting the glowing light.
No tears.
No sunglasses.
Not crying, not laughing. ”
Day 4 and 5, school show/rest in Yarmouth
The sunsets that welcomed me to Yarmouth. Wow. Just wow. Driving west into that endless ocean, the sparkling water, the expanse of the sky, the tiny snowflakes catching the god rays beaming into the horizon. It was truly a magical fairytale kind of vibe. And in that fairytale - a cabin. A love story. A hand-built home. Etchings, paintings, piano studio, skylights and windows letting in the light from every angle, photos, books, tea mug, chicken and rice. I felt my heart both immensely warmed and intensely longing. But nonetheless, whosever story it is, how beautiful these universes exist. How blessed to find respite in the middle of this solitary journey.
“The flavours of that kind of quiet care.
A homemade meal when you’re working your soul away.”
“In another life.
In this life-
I warm by the edge
of other people’s stories.”
School show, “Map of the Heart”. Annapolis West Education Centre. February 9, 2026.
Day 6, Concerts 4 and 5: Yarmouth
Sometimes there’s a disconnect. Or a perceived disconnect. Sometimes something feels too performative. Sometimes too real. Something falls flat. A sincerity that doesn’t reach anyone. Suddenly, we feel we’ve given too much of ourselves. That happens often when I miscalculate, when I lose track of what is ‘real’ feeling. When the opening, the void, is more than a channel and starts to consume also my tender innards.
My strangers, my loves. This is my soul I’m bearing, baring on stage. It’s a performance, it’s not a performance. Ya know?
“Inner, inner. This time, perhaps too personal. Too brave.”
Then there could be that dangerous bitterness. Cynicism, or whatever you will.
”Who deserves to see, to hear this side of you?
The parts we keep for ourselves.
How much to share.” That eternal question.
//
But looking back, I know the vulnerability was appreciated. Not every audience will be in the headspace, heart space to receive or reciprocate an experience like this. And that is absolutely okay. I can only be responsible for my own choices and beliefs. And for this, I repeat my mantras again and again: open, feel. Trust. Trust you are real.
Concert “Towards the Flame” 2, Yarmouth, NS. Hear Here Society. February 11, 2026.
Concert “Towards the Flame” 1, Yarmouth, NS. Hear Here Society. February 11, 2026.
February 10, 2026
8:41AM Yarmouth
What am I.
”A performance of sadness.”
A receptor of pain. A bearer. Cute spectacle. Martyr. Sacrifice. Vulnerability. Display.
To be consumed?(There’s that other voice.) Oh of course.
Authenticity?
“Transfixed with pain.”
Suffering to ecstasy. Same, same.It snows and snows and snows.
We nail our naked
souls on the cross.
So people can stare and weep and feel
something.“I carry your heart in my heart.”
Deep deep sadness.
Let me express it for you.Look. Listen.
THIS is how cruelty it hurts.[blank]
Silence. Calm. Into the ground. Into the sky. A kind of madness. Calm. Vessel. Channel. Open, and let the energy flow through.
”Beautiful”. “So beautiful.”
The hurt, the breath, the scares, the bleeding. The music.
It’s not the suffering artist. It’s the insane artist.What is that.
It’s fun though.
I wander wander wander.
Today, we do it all over again.
Stay curious. Listen. Notice. Every challenge, a blessing. Another opportunity.“You will come to miss and grieve this too. So all that can be done-
Is to enjoy it now.”
Day 7 and 8, school shows/dumplings
Struggling with a lot of personal sadness. I will save those entries for my journal’s witnessing. Funny how memories revisit. Funny how much we can feel and re-feel. Funny how solitude opens up the universe like nothing else.
I cry for what I don’t remember.
For what I’m not allowed to say.
(I’m still writing love letters.)
School show, “Map of the Heart”. Central Spryfield Elementary, Halifax NS. February 12, 2026.
Day 9, Concert 6: Truro
This place has memories too. And it’s Valentines Day. And my date is with my ipad and takeout Thai food backstage, watching 10 minutes of a deeply introspective Japanese drama. Nice. All these strangers as my date, though. Thank goodness for music. A chance to gather, to be with people. To witness. Some alone, some together. Each carrying their own joys, pains. Stories. “Sounds of Winter”. It goes on and on.
These days I hear the news and I cry. The teacher who worked for 4 years at Tumbler Ridge, this night, if solely for you, was worthwhile.
Concert “Towards the Flame”. Marigold Cultural Center, Truro NS. February 14, 2026.
Day 10, hike, rest, Lanzhou hand-pulled noodles
A necessary forest bath at Oakfield Provincial Park. Magic everywhere. Snow falling like memories. Roadtrip fried rice. Trident. Rousseau. Hand-pulled noodles. Practice. Papaya and sunflower seeds.
Day 11, webcast show, travel to Labrador
This was another night, another moment of darkness where my usual stream of tears turned into full-bellied laughter. I love adventures. I love going to far away places alone. Figuring things out. Being in the unknown. And especially cold, snowy places. That’s the best. Yet the entire day, I was already in a nostalgic, melancholic, lonely mood, still being visited by my own griefs and regrets, longings, tender pains. So, I let myself imagine a bit. Spiral and linger just a bit, in that sadness. In the ‘what if’. In the alternative reality where that crazy romantic gesture happens. That my path takes a wild, most shocking turn. I said to myself, it’s okay to imagine that.
But then, after the flight landed, in this middle of ‘nowhere’ which felt so so much like home to me (the same latitude as Edmonton!), as I was figuring out how to drive this huge badass truck alone in the dark with mesmerizing snowflakes sucking me into the vortex of the non-existent road to nowhere… I went back to my little absurd personal romance-fantasy again, and just bursted out laughing. The ridiculousness of it all. Was kinda fun. Funny. Stupidly foolishly hilarious. And that was so freeing. To just be in my own melodrama of an universe for a moment. To experience the beauty and love for all that I’m experiencing in this new place, and to share it all with just myself. I loved that. How acutely I felt and remembered and treasured everything, because I was the one solely responsible fo witnessing myself, and the magic around me. I was ready for this opportunity. I was going to meet the land, meet the people, meet the stories.
CDLI Webcast School Show. February 16, 2026.
Day 12, school shows, Lunar New Year
4 years ago, I also spent new years alone, in Paris. It was one of the lowest and most important moments in my 20’s. Actually that’s not true, not exactly. I was with a stranger-friend. Someone I just met, shared a deep connection with, made dumplings with, perhaps fell ‘in love’ with, someone who wrote me one of the most beautiful letters I’ve ever received. And someone who I never crossed paths with again. So, ‘alone’. In some sense. ‘Nobody’, who really ‘knows’. Knows what?
Now, 2026, year of the horse, up north in the Big Land, I find myself eating Nepalese dumplings at an empty restaurant, making another stranger-friend. A funny kind of ceremony. A celebration that should be raucous, loud, chaotic, filled with family, bickering, noise, laughter, a kitchen with a million smells - to here, serene, empty, quiet, alone, with a different kind of familiar scent (incense, curries, not what we grew up with, but still the warmth of an adopted home.) These moments allow me to experience gratitude from a different lens. And I’m still glad for the living. For the stranger-friends I said Happy New Year to: the students, the teachers, the staff. The girls I crossed path for a few brief hours, who stayed eyes and ears glued to the piano the entire time after the show to hear me practice, who excitedly ran up to me with flushed cheeks and a slightly nervous, embarrassed laugh to confess how inspired they are to also become a pianist … for all these people: I’m still glad I get to be here. And so, I eat my dumplings, drink my solo beer, go back to my hotel room alone. Call mom and dad. Say hello. What are you all eating tonight?
School show. Mealy Mountain Collegiate, Happy Valley-Goose Bay, Labrador. February 17, 2026.
School show “Map of the Heart”. Peacock Primary School, Happy Valley-Goose Bay, Labrador. February 17, 2026.
Day 13, CBC interview, school show, snowshoe hike Birch Brook, Concert 7: Happy Valley-Goose Bay
“The land is a feeling.
A feeling I’ve come to know as home.” -Richard Wagamese
I’m a child of the snow. I’m a spirit of the North. This I know. And still I marvel when I remember to remember. How deeply in my soul this connection nurtures, warms, heals, touches, replenishes, humbles and astonishes me. There’s nothing quite like it. When you access that kind of connection to the land. When it’s so beautiful you can’t stop crying. Everywhere you look, every sound you hear, ever sparkling particle of snow-air-wind-tree-sky. It’s wild to return to a computer ot reflect on these moments afterwards, it’s jarring. Because the absolute truth of things becomes so far, even having been so close. To have touched it, and to have to forget, and again and again work towards that re-honouring. I guess that’s the blessed challenge. We know what we must do in ceremony. Yet sometimes we have to be there to know know. That’s the miraculous thing. When knowing/understanding + belief/trust + feeling all align. When all that energy is in sync, in flow, in harmony.
“It’s so magical.
It’s so beautiful you can’t stop crying.
The tiny snowflakes
Look
They’re are floating upwards
Sideways
Suspended
Drifting
Timeless
There are the snow capped mountains in the horizon
Blue ice
White
Green
The bluest sky
The softest green
The purest white
The most silent of silent
Except not
Of course
I can hear my breathing
The crunch of snow
The fullness of air
Not another soul for miles
Hours
Just here
Me
Walking the land
Breathing the land
Being astonished
Birch bark
Moss
Baby pine
Sprinkle sprinkle
across atmosphere
Dusting glittering dancing
Green needles in powdered sugar
Adventuring
Falling
Butt in snow
Boots full of snow
Climbing
Crawling
Falling
Getting back up
Step
Step
Step by step
Ancient magic
//
I will remember
(Treasure)
This
May the unspeakable
magic
of this land
Stay in my body
Where spirit lives
//
“It’s so magical”
(It’s not just “magical”)
What is it.
Something deeper, untranslatable
I
Close my eyes
And the tears rush forth again
And I can still (almost) feel it
The tingling sensation
The pure
Utter
Awe
That most spacious of spaces
Most opening most true
And it already is fading
That kind of
Connection
Understanding
Existing
Being fully there. That universe that we belong to. Here. There.
What we wish to remember
To keep close to our hearts.
“I don’t understand
Why some things disappear
While others remain.”
I wish some things would stay. ”
School show “Map of the Heart”. Queen of Peace School, Happy Valley-Goose Bay, Labrador. February 18, 2026.
Concert “Towards the Flame”. Lawrence O’Brien Center, Happy Valley-Goose Bay, Newfoundland and Labrador. February 18, 2026.
“February 19, 2026
6:16AM Flight to Halifax
Happy Valley-Goose Bay.
Thank you.
Thank you.
I close my eyes and I still feel you.
The land, the steps. It will live in me. Decades to come.
I will walk and I will remember.
4 more days left.
Treasure it. Still be awed.
Silence. Darkness. Where Spirit Lives.
Listen. Ponder. Share.
This immense privilege.
And now, tot go home to Lunenburg.
After -
everyday, the tears, the crying on the road multiple times a day.
”Nobody Knows.”
True. But I am.
I am because yo uare.
Trees, snow, sky.
The immense beauty of it all.
No distractions. Just me. Just me.
It’s a performance.
It’s not a performance.
It’s permanent impermanence.
Let the spirit move you. That’s all.
That kind of air. Quiet. Snow silence. Snow muting. Noise cancelling. Sparkling snow. Another realm but-
here.
Back, forwards.”
Day 14, travel back to Lunenburg, run to Blue Rocks
Ah, yes. The places we go back to. To become, again. To find ourselves again. To remember. To be healed by the water. The sound, the smell, the light. The moment I drove into Lunenburg and saw that view of the harbour I’ve seen a million times - my heart came alive. It’s same but different. Different as the light is different each moment of each day. Different in the snow. And I knew I needed to run to Blue Rocks to pay my respect, to receive my understanding. And damn, that run. My heart opens and opens and soars. There was a rainbow in full clear daylight. The seaweed swishes back and forth. The beach and rocks covered in snow. It’s infinitely astonishing. Hello, yellow house. Years and years ago, years and years later, I will come back here.
Day 15, school show, Concert 8: Lunenburg
“Concert 8 out 9 was a special one.
LAMP. Lunenburg.
Each homecoming I recognize and honour again, I would not be who I am today, as an artist or a person, if not for this place and its people. So many of you have made such an impact on my path - you know who you are. Thank you for witnessing, thank you for continuing. I can’t express enough the immense gratitude in my heart.”
Concert “Towards the Flame”. Lunenburg Academy of Music Performance, Lunenburg, NS. February 20, 2026. Music Royale.
School show, “Map of the Heart”. Hebbville Academy, Hebbville, Nova Scotia. February 20, 2026.
“February 20, 2026
8:15AM Lunenburg
Is it sadness - that it’s almost over?
All the inexplicable ‘things’ I’ve witnessed, felt, heard, realized, lost, remembered, forgot, channeled-
Is it the beauty-
The struggle or pain?
The attempt at meaning making?
Exhaustion?
No, not ‘burnt out’, not depleted, I-
I really do love this life.
Damn, sitting back in that hall:
I really love piano. So much.
”The truth before it was the truth.”
Free and alone.
Let the water heal you.
The distances we travel, to return.
What story will you tell/hear today?
Savour it. Yes, it’s a privilege. But don’t apologize.
Thank. ”
Day 16, senior home concert in Halifax
“Concerts in Care.” Parkland at the Common, Halifax, NS. February 21, 2026.
“February 21, 2026
8:25AM Lunenburg
Towards the end(beginning?)
“Grief”. So beautiful you can’t stop weeping.
How deeply you must have loved.
How the world opens: with stories languages handwriting voices songs-
Me but a vessel.
If can play some tiny part in these connections-
Damn.
How glad I am to be playing music.
To invite you all into yourselves, ourselves.
From where we all grow together.
“Don’t over play or underplay”
DO overplay and underplay.
(Do not) BE (melo)dramatic.
Let the feelings course through.
The sun that makes you cry and cry and cry.
”Nobody Knows.”
Yet also - that’s part of the charm.
For us to keep a few secrets. Something only I am responsible for honouring.
So- I keep going.
Not ‘so what’.
There is such meaning making: if I choose to-
Witness myself
Witnessing. ”
Day 17, Concert 9: Wolfville
I was crying again the drive from Halifax to Wolfville. (What’s new?) But this time, for a different reason. Hockey.
I had my ears glued to CBC radio the entire hour, following the Olympics Mens Hockey finals: Canada vs US. This was such a core collective moment for the country.
And it was wild, how again, viscerally moved I was by the people’s energies through the car speaker. Like I could feel the crowd. From all across Canada, people were gathering in bars at 8am in BC, in churches right here in Nova Scotia, cheering on the game, feeling the same spirit. The camaraderie. The ‘true meaning of hockey’. It just astonishes me. How amidst whatever conflicts in the world that is happening, and the devastating tragedy in our own country, that people can come together to find courage, to celebrate, to take pride in what we love. There is such SUCH energy. Yes I am a performing artist, but I’ve also been a performing athlete. It’s wildly differently and wildly the same. The discipline, the integrity, the joy and love, the sacrifice, the collective energy of the crowd when you go out on that stage, that court, that rink. The warrior’s spirit. For ourselves, for all of us. Cliché: it’s not about winning or losing, but somehow, true: it’s about simply, coming together. We’ve fought hard, and well. And maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s skill. But spirit. Gosh do we have spirit.
And also, full circle Richard Wagamese moment. From Embers back to Indian Horse. The immense beauty in that. The music in that. On the ice. The grace, elegance, fierce dignity. Again and again.
So that’s a wrap. With that kind of collective energy, I entered the the beautiful Garden Room of Acadia University. A stunning afternoon filled with light, to honour the darkness, to praise the silence.
Concert “Towards the Flame”. Garden Room, Wolfville, NS. February 22, 2026.
“February 23, 2026
5:37AM flight home
3 rental cars
4 flights
11 hotel changes
How many kilometres.
How many milet songs.
9 muuffins. 9 concerts.
Bagels over.
Sunflower seeds, over/replenished/over.
Beers. Goji berry. Dates. Coffee. RX bar. Pistachios. Vitamin. Hot shower and nap. What you’ve come to love about the pre-concert prep. Hotel room dinners. Microwave dinners. Post concert celebration. Dance party. Pack unpack. Fold sheets. Squish avocado. A kiss, a thank you. Blanket fortress. A kind of routine even while on the road. Grounded by me. And my faithful companions. Wagamese. Journal. Avocado.
Taking care. Still finding magic in the margins.
Yes. Yes yes.
Yo’ve done well.
Now for the stories tto takke a life of their own.
The process has just begun.
The past keeps on living. ”
So. It’s now Sunday, March 1, 2026. 3:03PM in sunny Airdrie, AB. A stunning +4 degrees. It’s been a week. And I’ve been going through the notes, the voice memos, the guest book, the videos, the snippets, the snapshots that only exist in my memories… I’m writing, reflecting, processing, un-processing, sitting with the silences, the stillness after all this movement.
And I’m still astonished. Still learning. Still surprised by how ‘insignificant’ all this could feel in the aftermath. The inevitable “so what.”
But I come back. To simple truths. Simple blessings. Ya know. Cause it’s fun. Cause I love the way my fingers sink into the keys. I love the flying, the soaring the levitating. I love the weight and weightlessness.
I think, perhaps, that’s worthwhile enough. To repeat :||
This is not the end,
xoxo
To be continued,
(So many more stories to hear, to share, to remember).
Little red pianist
