The latest from the loft. Nights are still cool, the rain and wind move the fresh leaves... the world has gone green but something hasn't settled yet. Seasons evolve from each other without clarity and summer comes in waves as the spring slowly lets go.
HOUR LONG ENVIRONMENTS NEWEST AT THE TOP
The deep cold seems to have passed and though there's still a foot of snow on the ground the days are mostly filled with the sound of melting. It's been a more oppressive winter than any I can remember, and in fact it's Read more
The deep cold seems to have passed and though there's still a foot of snow on the ground the days are mostly filled with the sound of melting. It's been a more oppressive winter than any I can remember, and in fact it's snowing again as I write this. I know spring will come; part of the pleasure of living in New England is really experiencing all the seasons. I just didn't need to experience this one quite so dramatically. So perhaps this piece is a bit of a rain dance, or a quiet prayer for spring.
Another unknown place to spend time in. Oord 20 arrived as the spring equinox arrived... which is totally odd as the last oord showed up on the winter solstice. Who's pushing the pedals on the season cycle?
Oord 20 breathes slowly, emerging from the deep sleep of winter with a dream of sunlight but with no faith that the cold has gone.
Part II (February, 2026): Months later the snow is all there is and those fall rains are a distant dream.
Part I (October, 2025): A slowly evolving watercolor journey through an hour-long rainstorm. In the fall the rain arrived here for a week and the dark days felt like a sign of the coming winter.
I was born, and grew up, here in New Hampshire about five miles from where we live now. For a little over 30 years I lived a short drive away over the border in Massachusetts, but when Sarah and I were looking for a place Read more
I was born, and grew up, here in New Hampshire about five miles from where we live now. For a little over 30 years I lived a short drive away over the border in Massachusetts, but when Sarah and I were looking for a place to settle together it made perfect sense to return to NH. In 2021 we found this property with a small house and capacious (we loved these random words that showed up in real estate listings) barn and knew it was the right spot. This is my fifth summer back home.
"Five Summers" is both a settling into the peace of this beautiful spot where we find ourselves, and also a deliberately "peaceful" creation as a much-needed antidote to the many elements of the world that lie beyond my personal capacity to understand. Sometimes I drift into the dark spaces, but this month I went towards the light-- because I needed it.
While I was working on this one I was listening to it outside on a warm Sunday, with the birds and the breeze joining in, and I ended up loving their contributions so I added them in alongside the music. I hope it creates a little window into my world here and brings you some comfort.
The Merrimack River runs from central New Hampshire south into Massachusetts where it turns east and eventually opens to the Atlantic Ocean in Newburyport. I have found myself at its banks at every stage and situation in Read more
The Merrimack River runs from central New Hampshire south into Massachusetts where it turns east and eventually opens to the Atlantic Ocean in Newburyport. I have found myself at its banks at every stage and situation in my life, and I’m always grateful for the ever-running currents and the slow expanse of the water. This particular piece is based on a night-time river visit not too long ago. There seems to be music waiting to be discovered inside the sounds of the water and crickets, and my gentle waves of colors from synth, Rhodes, and guitar create a suspended time to get lost in.
This one has been helping my busy brain fall asleep recently…I hope it brings some calm to your world as well.
