
what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

i have a cure for the lonely silence
a tonic for the low hanging blues
i’ve got a same-old-same-old discombobulator
that sets my toes a-tappin in my shoes
i have the whole world waiting at my doorstep
and friends who love me for myself
i have a million billion galaxies above me
and tonight I’m glad I’m not somebody else

what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

i have a cure for the lonely silence
a tonic for the low hanging blues
i’ve got a same-old-same-old discombobulator
that sets my toes a-tappin in my shoes
i have the whole world waiting at my doorstep
and friends who love me for myself
i have a million billion galaxies above me
and tonight I’m glad I’m not somebody else

what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

What It Is

Petrichor is a cinematic journey through drought, deluge, and renewal — an album that treats weather as emotion and sound as memory. Across ten tracks, it moves from the stillness of cracked soil to the ecstatic rush of Quantum Rain, blending field-recorded ambience, dream-folk intimacy, and the pulse of liquid drum & bass. Each song feels like a breath returning to the world, soaked in the scent of fresh rain after a long silence. It’s rooted in texture — wood, air, earth, water — yet shaped by the invisible currents of thought and longing that run beneath.

Beneath its surface beauty lies something elemental: the idea that every cycle of destruction and recovery mirrors the body, the mind, the self learning to live again. Voices drift in and out like weather fronts; acoustic guitars share space with sub-bass and reverb-drenched horizons. At its heart, Petrichor isn’t about rain — it’s about what the rain awakens: the soil remembering, the sky breathing, the listener arriving home to themselves.

Water finds its way

... because I really miss Jacques Brel's poetry, and GLOWsutra gratitude is how I transform existential dread into congenial melancholy, en Français 🍟🎧✨

-
ps: wanna French #lyrics ? Oh oui, oui oui oui?! But(t) also maybe, non. 
Because the fact of the matter is that no one seems to care whatsoever, so errr, you know, whatever. I'd rather spare me lazy self the effort it takes to share, like errr, why even bother? Indifference begets indifference, like "Trauma Begets Trauma", like, errr, it's only fair, I confer lol... unless you wanna send me a dare? ✍️💌🏴‍☠️

[05] Jacques Brel - French GLOWsutra Psychedelic Circus Cello Chanson INDIE

“Mirrors / Tristesse” is a summer album about love, guilt, freedom and the versions of ourselves we try to outrun. Set against the heat of the Mediterranean coast, these twelve songs move through the first sparks of desire, the jealousy and mischief that follow, the quiet tragedies we don’t see until they’re already behind us, and the melancholy that becomes a permanent companion.

Built from a fusion of French chanson, chamber-folk and intimate indie storytelling, the album draws on the emotional architecture of Mirrors — self-interrogation, memory, the stories we perform — and carries it into the sun-drenched world of Bonjour Tristesse.

From the villa above the sea to the Parisian atelier, from the white suit on stage to the final acceptance of tristesse itself, these songs follow the arc of a summer that begins like a lie and ends like a lesson you never stop learning.

A coastal dream darkened by consequence — a sister album to Mirrors, and a chapter in its shadow.

The Atelier at Père Lachaise

what if every choice we make is just a coin flip down to hell
what if freedom’s just a rumor whispered in a neon gate
what if all the things we kill are the ones we shoulda let create

What if

since the eighteenth of march, the waves been rising
seven hundred seventy five thousand times you breathed life into the horizon
every day about three thousand hearts pressed play
and I swear it feels like some unseen force guiding the way
I never thought these numbers would touch my name
never thought this little universe would spark into flame
but here we are
and every echo you sent comes back like a star

Carried by the Sound

“Tristesse” is a summer dream slowly turning into memory — a French-cinema folk album set on the coast, where heat softens everything except the truth.
These twelve songs follow a young woman through a season of desire, mischief, consequence and quiet self-recognition.

There is sunlight and sea air, the illusion of freedom, the thrill of plans made too lightly — and the stillness that comes when innocence finally cracks.
Chanson-inspired vocals, soft acoustic textures, and intimate, breath-close production carry the story from a bright villa above the water to the long, grey September that follows.

An album about youth, about the games we play without understanding their cost, and about the melancholy that returns each year like a familiar guest.

A warm coastline.
A single season.
A heart learning its limits.

Water finds its way

Quantum me