Delicate: Handle with Humanity.

In a world that is conditioned to mould us, brand us and define us, keep us in line and at worst stay murky – not even grey – when someone, something slips through, we’re trained to miss it. We’re trained to look away. Unfeeling. Unhuman. The beasts we can be.

They even say purity is too pure for us to handle. I’m not sure who, what, when, where, yet the why is pretty clear. They say too much is too much, and yet they sell us more. Because pure can be dangerous. Pure has side effects. Pure holds too much power and has too much of an effect in the world. (It also has a dark side too).

There’s a quote from my upcoming book that feels like it defines this moment. And it feels like I need to dare to share its wisdom even just for a second.

“… to language the heart, mind, body and soul to a one and only gramatical reality is to create the annomolie…”

And yet here I am, putting words to form – bending reality – indenting the fabric of life as we know it. Except I’m not alone. So let’s just suspend what they say, and breathe into the sheer prophetic innocence encapsulated in a single love song making its way into a world awakening.


I still can’t shrug the elemental feel of Milla Jonveich when I listen to the music of Isobella Caroline Boucher. Or that scene from The 5th Element when she sees the world, in all, it’s tangled confusion, overwhelming busking life, with sheer overwhelm tears in the corner of her eyes, and insatiable vulnerability. That part that was woken up to quickly, before it’s time, before it knew, and yet it knows. There’s so much more to be felt into in the void… in the truth…in the soul that is called to express itself upon this world. This insatiable child-like rawness pours from her vocals. Almost beyond child-like. Actually infant.

Is this the sound of purity?

Yet, the light (with all its might)still struggles to break through. To touch the contours of this distorted world. Like a misplaced elemental touching home. (And the spaces it calls home inbetween). And so this otherworldly sound comes to being, like through astral projection, and the dimensions we don’t understand.

Listening to the rest of the album at I can’t help but feel suspended somewhat in alternate realms, and disbelief that cannot be defined as music. Instead, it lives a collection of channelled spherical fragments of theatrical recitals that see the world through crystal lenses. They may call it Theatre of the Absurd but there’s something too harsh, too final, too stationary and unexperimental about that.  Instead, this world holds a modern-day fantasia bridging spaces that should never have co-existed.

But what about purity?

There’s a certain kind of courage to sing your true voice. To let the part of yourself that is fragile, naked, trembling, pure beyond distinction and authentic to the core out in the world. And when you hear it – you just feel it. Even if you can’t make sense of it, as if something out of a dream, and yet the knowing can’t escape the grooves of your skin and the back of your neck. To embrace oneself, in a world that fears individuality. To be anything but solid. To feel like liquid taking forms like a kaleidoscope of Daliesque existence. Yes, that’s it. It feels like being the brushstrokes of multidimensional  “Galatea of the Spheres”, the suspended altered space of “The Meditative Rose”, and the clouds lost to themselves in Monet’s “Woman with a Parasol” simply existing without need or form.

This is what it could sound like to become disentangled. There’s a lot to explore there. Perhaps that’s a quest for some other time and some other form.

Till then here are the links you might want to open yourself up to:




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