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Inspired by the question: Is life written in the stars or written day by day?  

This version of Echoes was recorded live during a performance with Sacred Voices in Denver, April 2025  

~  weaves harp, layered vocals, and ambient textures to explore the echoes of the past, the choices we make, and the strength it takes to stand in your own truth. ~


LYRICS

Little one 
Time stands still 
Will you make the jump, water wash away self-doubt and guilt 

What’s your story going to say? 
Is it written in the stars?   
Or are pages added day by day?

Echoes of days gone by
whispered by the wind 
Echoes of days gone by 
A dense fog has thinned 

Little one
Grounded by roots so deep, 
Will you dig them up, to stand alone on your two feet?

What’s your story going to say? 
Is it written in the stars? 
Or are pages added day by day? 

Echoes of days gone by
whispered by the wind 
Echoes of days gone by 
A dense fog has thinned 

Little one, 
Your life is your own
You have the choice to grow in the new, to leave behind the weathered and worn

What’s your story going to say? 
Is it written in the stars? 
Or are pages added day by day? 

Echoes of days gone by
whispered by the wind 
Echoes of days gone by 
A dense fog has thinned 


Echoes- Live

I-Banquet Food

danger

a demo from 2024. i wrote this when i was learning how to trust again — myself, life, and the universe.

Tested by the Universe - Demo 2024

I wrote this when I still believed love could save you and me - chaos all around, but I stayed. 
Living in a beautiful delusion, I'll be right here when the Last Leaf Falls.

Last Leaf Falls - Demo 2022

Last Leaf Falls - Demo 2022

TAX (instrumental)

D-So Sad Soiree

In a world where flora evolved to think and remember, a lone being known as the Verdant ascended from the soil to commune with the orchid — the most ancient and sentient of all plants. The orchid was said to store echoes of every living creature that had ever inhaled its scent, a biological archive of consciousness itself. As the Verdant pressed its lips to the bloom, not to eat but to listen, memories poured into it like sunlight through glass — wars, love songs, storms, the sound of rain on extinct oceans.

Radiant Locusts

Strange John

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