The World Is A Stage

I thought I had a revelation the other day. Then I realised it sounded familiar. 

‘The world is a stage’

This was followed by annoyance: Shakespeare the cheeky bastard knew. He knew. Of course he knew! The Bard is alive and well, his words echo and linger on. His art, his legacy; his light shines on. Reaching our eyes so long after his mortal fire has burnt out.

As usual I may sound insane; so I’ll explain myself. Going to see live shows: music, theatre, circus, dance, any kind of performance art is one of the greatest joys I have. Probably only exceeded by being the performer in these things. 

I believe that dizzying euphoria of the stage comes from being a part of this thing that’s greater than oneself. Art is the creation of a collective feeling: whether it’s joy, sadness or any other human emotion. In a crowd: a sea of individuals, our hearts beat in time. As one.

You can bring the whole world to you, all of humanity and the human condition can be packed down and set up once more upon a stage. 

The world is brought to the stage. 

The stage brings the world to us.


My debut EP: The Truth of Flowers will be released on the 21st of June 2019, and I could not be more excited about this. I’m sure over the coming weeks you will hear plenty about it but I just have to say that this is a project and a dream that took a team to get to this moment. Music is all about community from the way it’s consumed, to the way it’s created. It’s about bringing us together and sharing in collective experiences. So thank you to all who have been a part of this journey so far, and thank you to all who shall join in this adventure now and in future. 


Rose petals, sunlight shining between the leaves and boughs of the old mango tree. Patched up hand-me-down jeans so worn that they’re soft and thin, now covered in childish paintings and glitter. The smell of hay and horses, swing-sets, dreams of running away to join the circus. 

I mourn my youth. That must sound strange coming from someone still living in that era of their life. I’m young, but oftentimes I don’t feel it. That leads me to ask what is youth? Is it an age? A set number? Do you leave behind youth and become an adult at 18, 21, 30, 72? When are we handed the keys to the kingdom (and the instruction manual too?) Or is youth a feeling, an action, a state of being, a philosophy of its own?

My memory of childhood feels like vintage films. Hazy and sun drenched. Maybe I worry that I’ll forget it. Forget what youth felt like; the wonder of it all. I never wanted to grow up, all the other kids were wanting to be adults, but I feared it. I never wanted to wear a suit, or heels, never wanted a desk, fancy car, or corner office. That’d be a prison to my childhood self: at least I never forgot that. 

I don’t think we grow out of youth, or truly forget it. Some people just leave it behind tucked away somewhere in a shoebox. Along with such things as running around barefoot, scrabbling through the couch for spare change to buy lollies and climbing trees to find how far you can see. I savour the taste of wonder, of undiluted joy, of curiosity and adventure: these things I associate with being youthful. They’re precious gems that I want to adorn myself and my life with. Not keep hidden away in a shoebox.

The Cartographer

Fear is an oddity, a strange phenomena once you begin to think about it. It’s adrenaline.It comes from survival, our primal roots and core reflexes. Fight or Flight. I’d like to think I’m the fight type when it comes down to it. But fear for us now is less a case of predators and more trivial, so to say. It’s no longer life or death, or serious injury. 

It’s fear of not being good enough, of being judged, of being a failure. All serious anxieties that most of us harbour within, especially creatives. The thing is if we aren’t good enough, or are judged, or fail: we’re generally not going to die. So, in saying this why do these fears paralyse us? I can only speak from my own experience and I’ve suffered immensely with self doubt and fear, particularly in my teens; actually I still do. However, I’ve grown a great deal through the years and taught myself to accept and embrace my fear, it’s a process I’m still in. A journey. No. Quest that I struggle with daily but I know it’s worth it. 

Currently I’m reading Meera Lee Patel’s book, My Friend Fear. I would highly recommend, it’s incredibly poignant, interesting and beautiful, her watercolour illustrations are stunning, and very calming. This book’s changed my perception of  how I view and interact with my fears.

 I now call my fear a cartographer, an explorer, a visionary, an astronomer. Because she knows the path, she knows the way and she knows that ‘here be dragons’ is not a threat or warning, but a challenge and adventure. My fear looks up at the stars and sees possibility rather than the endless abyss. The unknown is where I want to be going. Meera speaks about how your fear will guide you to where you need to go. It won’t be easy and you won’t be unafraid. 

However, I know that if I follow fear that’s where I’ll find the greatest rewards.