Well now. Here’s a feeling bottled, or rather, pressed onto a piano key. "Alone." Caitty, out of Margaret River – which, in my head, conjures images of dramatic cliffs and maybe someone losing their favourite hat to the wind, oddly fitting – gives us a stark landscape of sudden departure. https://open.spotify.com/album/05CkW9piuni9Ckoo5PLNWo?si=kom6wwPNRxWYaohA_qaWgA The piano isn't just accompaniment; it feels like the architecture of the emptiness. Chord by...

When the grey chill of February settles over the North, it brings a specific weight that makes forward motion feel nearly impossible. This seasonal stagnation mirrors the internal paralysis that often precedes profound personal shifts. People search for years to find a place or a person that anchors them, only to realise that the anchor itself can feel terrifyingly heavy when it finally catches. It is...