It’s dark out there. And stormy.
I’ve turned off my music, and I’ve switched off the phone.

I’m listening to – and breathing in – the rain.

Please press the play button below to sit with me on my boat, and listen…

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Let your mind and heart wander. This gentle storm will take us far away and bring us back to the present, in the kindest of ways.

Enjoy the rest of your day my dear readers. And if night has fallen in your corner of the world, I hope you will have the sweetest dreams tonight.

xx

There is always romance in the air in Paris, but in Spring, romance and love seems to envelope the whole city more than ever. I adore Paris in the Spring time – I moved to Paris in the Spring, I fell in love in the Spring, and it seems I keep coming back in the Spring. Perhaps I’m addicted to the romance…

So for this final soundscape for the series, its all about Spring love in Paris – a collection of photos taken while wandering the streets of the city in Spring, along with a soundscape captured while strolling at dusk with French Boy through St Germain the other Saturday night, stopping in at Taschen (which was still open at 10pm!), and then wandering around the corner, hand in hand, to find an old dude singing I can’t believe you’re in love with me, dressed in berret and suspenders. so. ro. man. tic.

The sound quality of this one is very poor unfortunately, but I rather like the 1920’s feel of it, and I hope you will still enjoy it. So, please take it away, monsieur…

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Thanks for lending me your ears for my series 4 soundscape. Click here to be whisked back to series 1 (in Amsterdam), series 2 (in Paris), series 3 (in Sydney).

Visiting Paris is a festival for the senses. For French Boy and I, its notably our taste buds that party like its 1999. The moments prior to this particular trip, we spent the train ride deciding where we would eat for every single meal. Since we only had 2 nights there, that being 6 meals – we realised we had to cull our list of favourites down substantially.

But to my surprise, it wasn’t the food and wine that stole my heart this time.

It was music.

No matter where we wandered, no matter what time of day or night, there was incredible open-air music coming from all sorts of places – from the habitual accordian player on metro line 12, to a saxophonist whose somber, slow tunes at midnight were reverberating through the thick stone walls of the Richelieu hallway of le louvre. Our weekend was marked by spontaneous musical intervals and for me, it was very special, being the week after my musical friend had passed away. I imagined he was there, in the air somewhere, waving a magical mystical conductor’s baton everywhere we went…

However, there was one particular interlude that moved me to tears. We were wandering around the palais royal and as we turned the corner there, out of nowhere, was a 12-piece string ensemble in full swing, performing la petite musique de nuit (4th mvt) , by Mozart – a song I have adored since I was a child. It whisked me right into the moment and I realised at that point that my mind had been everywhere else – thinking about loss, mortality, my family, past events, future projects… but then, for the first time in such a long time, I was right here, in the present, in the middle of Paris, captured in the moment by this music.

With wide eyes and whole heart, I listened, watched, and felt. My senses were enchanted.

I watched as a lady in the crowd waved her arm in the air and gently dropped it with each fall of each note. I watched the conductor – who was also playing a violin – as he came to the woman and played his instrument, just for her. The space between them was filled with admiration, love, passion, understanding and pure pleasure.

I was present.

The music filled my whole body and my heart heaved. As I took my next breath tears welled in my eyes. I watched this lady enjoy the performance without inhibition and I understood: this is life, and I am living it.

Please press the play button below…

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This one’s for you, Mum.

Please press the play button below to be whisked away with me as we wander through the parc around the sacre coeur, in montmatre, paris. As you scroll through the photos, you may even forget you are in paris. Well, that is until…

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My Great Uncle Ron introduced me to the piano when I was just 3 years old. He had a garage full of dusty old pianos that he bought, sold, tuned, and played. When he came to visit he would always tune my piano. He did it the old fashioned way – with his ear and a simple tuning fork. When he was satisfied with his work he would play the most fabulous tunes – old honky tonk numbers were among his favourites. Then we would play a little duet together. Usually heart and soul.

Last week my Great Uncle Ron passed away.

I wrote a little piece of music a few months ago, and although it’s incomplete I found myself playing it over and over again last week, while thinking about all the fond memories I have of my Great Uncle. If it wasn’t for his love of pianos, I’m not sure I would have ever learned to play. So thank you Uncle Ronny, this one is for you. I thought that maybe if I put this out in the airwaves, it might reach you, somehow…

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