This music is about our place in the universe, our scrap of (relative) stability within an unknowably vast expanse which is either a spectacular explosion of probability, or a rather dark, dull, and deadly place, depending on who you ask. Against all odds (or perhaps precisely as a consequence of them) here we are: Life on Earth.

This music is also about our more local, personal homes––the cities, villages, forests, rivers, fields, huts, houses, and holes in which we are grown, the potting mix for us little seedlings, every one a different take on the formula, a unique attempt to raise something beautiful from the ground of being. I count my lucky stars that this life propped me up with a secure home, filled with love, and the love of art. I wouldn't be the same person without that blessing. I hope I can leverage it to create more home-ness for a struggling world and its people, in my way.

"Home-ness", for a building is a rather limited conception of a home. A home is also a friend, a kind stranger, a family, a community––the safe place within another human's heart where we may rest and grow and wonder and play if they will allow us the privilege. An idea may also be a home, but for the mind. Principles, values and beliefs provide a different kind of security than brick and tiles, but one that is no less vital for human flourishing. We are "at" home when we feel seen, safe, and sound, and it is from this place that we may begin to gaze or creep or, if we are brave enough, reach back out into ... space!

If not for "space-ness" we would get bored very quickly. I believe that the quality of the unknown, whether in the black beyond of the night, the cloudy and uncertain future with its tangled paths of failure and success, or the clouded eyes of dark emotions, is at least half of what gives life meaning. Life would not be life if it were all "home"; life means nothing, cannot even exist, without its shrouded partner, death.

Leaving home (the house, the heart, the idea) is, for me, the greatest human accomplishment. This means stepping beyond what is familiar, what is easy, and striking out (in YOUR own way) to that brittle and brilliant place where all the danger and all the rewards are stored waiting for you. This is not going to be circumnavigating the globe on a paddle-board or bench-pressing an alligator for everyone (although kudos to you if you do!). I'm talking about having challenging and honest conversations with your friends (and enemies). Dancing with a little extra vigour at the club. Trying something new on a familiar menu. Driving a different way to work. WALKING to work. Challenging yourself to be more creative, more flexible, more productive, more tolerant, more peaceful, more active, more loving ... more of whatever you feel called to grow into. The list is no list at all because the number of ways you can expand yourself and your life is as vast as space itself.

But I digress somewhat: this album is about where we start. I'm currently working on a record that deals more directly with where we might go, and how to step bravely forth from our literal and metaphorical doorstep (which will be out in 2024). For now it is enough to emphasise that home and space exist in a mutually dependent co-arising relationship. A simple way of understanding this phenomenon comes from the English philosopher Alan Watts, who, drawing upon wisdom traditions in Eastern philosophy such as Buddhism, lovingly and elegantly impresses in his teachings that there is no figure without ground––no "us" without "them".

But if there is a place to start (although I'm not convinced there truly is) it might be with the "I" of the beholder. I begin, therefore, in my first collection of original music, with songs about my home and early life in Melbourne/Naarm.

'Hallowed Alley' is a tribute to the now (physically) absent Bennetts Lane Jazz Club where I fell in love with music, and also to the many luminous corridors of "in-between-ness" that are treasured spaces in their own right in this city.

'Albert St Rooftop Views' is about a particularly devious share house in my early 20s, and the climb onto the rooftop for a city sunset backdrop to good company and loosely held dreams.

'The Merri Trail' is about a waterway that I have walked along possibly thousands of times––if not by now, then certainly will have by the time I die. This is a special place for the community, for exercise, contemplation, recreation, education, and connection to the wild land that we all but choke out of existence. I am hopeful, however, that it will never die.

'The Guru From Glen Iris' is dedicated to a beloved friend, dubbed thus at the age of 19 by a canny ensemble-director at university. This boy, now a man, is the spirit of courage, compassion, and good humour, and he improves the lives of all those who know him.

'Self-fulfilling Prophecy' is a reflection on the ways we lay paths of destiny for ourselves by our thoughts and actions. Fate and free-will are strange forces to come to grips with, but there is at least one invariable prophecy that is made for each of us at birth––you know the one! Before we pass through that mysterious door, however, before we are called home one last time, there are many tracks and roads we may wander. 'Self-fulfilling Prophecy' means that you can choose these adventures yourself––so choose them well!

The album closes with a reading of a poem that I wrote to accompany the title track and the collection as a whole. I won't re-produce it here because I'd like it to be experienced within the context of the music. But I like words very much (as might by now be apparent) and wanted to include some on this work of otherwise instrumental music.

I'd like to acknowledge my beloved bandmates Angus and Lewis for helping me bring my music to life; the great heart Niko Schäuble for his grace and skill in engineering and mixing this recording; Lachlan Carrick for his superb execution of the dark art of mastering; Duncographic for taking photos which defy comprehension; and my parents for the profound support they have given me throughout my life, without which I can't say whether I would still be an artist, doing something I love almost as much as life itself.

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This album is dedicated to the home-makers, whose domain is the domicile, the loving heart, and the open mind.

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