Ten women, ten stories, one truth: love isn't meant to last forever, and that's what makes it beautiful. From wine-soaked Tuesday afternoons to wedding dance floors, from exhausted surrender to empowered acceptance, these jazz-kissed pop confessions capture what women in their 30s and 40s really know about love's expiration dates.

Tired of trying

A cinematic, acoustic memoir of Southern twilight. Across 11 tracks, it weaves porchlight intimacy with gospel grit, blending Chicago blues, Motown warmth, and folk storytelling into a cohesive emotional arc.

Train to Nowhere

A Softer Kind of Love

Late Night Soul Blues

Explores how we project unacknowledged inner qualities onto romantic partners. Through New Zealand nature imagery, the song charts the journey from idealised love (seeing missing parts of ourselves in another) through disillusionment (borrowed strength fading) to psychological maturity. The core insight: the courage, grace, and wholeness we seek in lovers already exists within us, sleeping like seeds. Love matures when we reclaim these projections and meet as equals—"not your missing piece, but your equal in this wild garden of becoming." From my upcoming book "Breakfast with Jung" Chapter 5: Anima and Animus. 
Jazz (43%), Jazz, Nu Jazz / Jazztronica (38%) Singer Songwriter (22%) Adult Contemporary (20%)
Jazz, Blues, Neo-Soul (15%)


A Field Guide to Projection  (Lyrics)

In the wild meadow of new love, we stand
Like pohutukawa reaching toward light
Morning mist wraps around our ankles
Kowhai petals scatter gold secrets
I see in you the quiet grace I've yet to embrace
While you mirror parts of me I've forgotten to claim

Seasons turn like pages in memory's book
Our shared story begins to blur
Your strength, once solid as Tane Mahuta
Trembles like flax in southerly winds
My warmth, borrowed from your fire
Fades like sunset on harbor waters

Thunder rolls through our shared silence
In winter's bare-branched honesty
Truth rises like dawn on Waiheke
The courage I sought in your heart
Was my own, sleeping like seed in soil
The gentleness you found in my hands
Your own grace, waiting to bloom

Our projections fall like autumn leaves
Becoming food for deeper roots
Spring arrives with its own wisdom
Morning paints messages on waves
Your hand in mine familiar as birdsong
In your eyes, I see myself at last
Not your missing piece, but your equal
In this wild garden of becoming
Between us, something entirely new
Takes root in ancient soil

A Field Guide to Projection

Thunder

“Mon Cher” is a classic Parisian chanson reborn through modern cinematic production.
A soulful café melody tells the story of a woman who’s learned to love life on her own terms — to flirt, to dream, to hurt, and to rise again.
She reminds us that life can be beautiful, but you need the courage to make it so.

Elegant, emotional, and timeless — Mon Cher celebrates the art of living, c’est la vie.
Produced by Quarry Studios.

#chansonpop #frenchmusic #parisiancafe #romanticmusic #femaleballad #cinematicmusic #emotionalmusic #worldmusic #beautifulvoice #independentwoman #cestlavie #newagemusic

Mon Cher

180° Flip

Just the weight.
Just the weight.

I count the cracks in the ceiling paint, they look like highways now. 
Too tired to argue with the shadow in the corner of the room. 
The phone is quiet, but the silence screams louder than before. 
Everything I touch turns grey, it turns grey.
I tried to measure the distance back to who I used to be. 
But the mirror’s a fraud, holding a memory.

This is the weight of the air, the kind that doesn't move. 
Every minute is a slow-motion proof. 
I just wanted less to carry, not this silent altitude. 
I just sit here and I let the silence win.

The daylight hurts my eyes, so I pull the curtains tight. 
Just another day trapped inside the things I didn't say. 
Used to think that lonely was a room you had to cross. 
Now I know that lonely is the last thing you lost.

I tried to measure the distance back to who I used to be. 
But the mirror’s a fraud, holding a memory.
This is the weight of the air, the kind that doesn't move. 
Every minute is a slow-motion proof. 
I just wanted less to carry, not this silent altitude. 
I just sit here and I let the silence win.

Break the glass, I want to feel the cold. 
Let the feeling take a grip and make me whole. 
I don't need the answer; just need the dark to stay. 
Let the melody dissolve the light away.

This is the weight of the air, the kind that doesn't move. 
Every minute is a slow-motion proof. 
I just wanted less to carry, not this silent altitude. 
I just sit here and I let the silence win. 

Just the weight.
Just the weight.

—
Arrangement and vocals: Volker Redder, Elevenlabs, GarageBand
Loops and samples: Volker Redder, GarageBand, Elevenlabs
Editing and sound design: Volker Redder, Ozone 11, Sound Studio, Unison Sound Doctor, GarageBand
Lyrics: Volker Redder, translated with the help of Google Translate
Cover design: Volker Redder, Photoshop, FLUXpro

Silent Weight

(Intro)
Ἄρης has come — the ground is shaking.
(“Νίκη ἢ Θάνατος!”)
Ἄρης has come — the earth is weeping.
(“Πῦρ ἐν ταῖς καρδίαις — Αἷμα ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς!”)

(Verse 1)

The day has come — the end of a world,
A story too sorrowed for such a slaughter.
You heard the children cry in terror,
You saw fathers and brothers spill their blood.
(Αἷμα! Αἷμα!)
I feel nothing anymore
Before tales like these.
Evolution is built on necessary losses,
Villains are born from consequences.
There is no good, no evil —
Only thinkers, and brutes.

(Chorus)

Hhh—Hhh—Hhh—
This is the end of the world.
Fire spreads, blood pours.
DRRRAAAM!
This is the end of the world.
Bodies impale, souls scream.

(Verse 2)

I too was once innocent,
Searching for redemption in the mouths of the mighty.
I believed in hollow words, in change,
Thinking that if my heart opened, I’d be heard.
But I learned a bitter truth —
Even those who claim closeness,
Even those who worship you, give you faith,
Know you only when they want to.
(Θάνατος τοῖς ψευδέσι!)
I won’t tell you to end alone,
I won’t preach that you must rot alone.
I’ll only say: remain alone.
Apples rot from the inside —
A heart does too.
And by the time you understand it,
You’ll have already taken a bite.

(Chorus)

Hhh—Hhh—Hhh—
This is the end of the world.
Fire spreads, blood pours.
DRRRAAAM!
This is the end of the world.
Bodies impale, souls scream.

(Bridge)

Oh, the only thing that might save us
(Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!)
Is killing just to be saved.
(Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!)
Oh, the only thing that might save us
(Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!)
Is killing just to be saved.
Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!
Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!
Πῦρ! Αἷμα! Πόλεμος!
...
.....
.....
Hhhh—HA TAK! TAK! TAK!
Frrr—HA KHO! KHO!

(Pre-Chorus)

The wounds of a heart cut deeper than pain.
Protect yourself, child — before you protect others.
Your heart is sacred — it grows only in you.

(Chorus)

Hhh—Hhh—Hhh—
This is the end of the world.
Fire spreads, blood pours.
DRRRAAAM!
This is the end of the world.
Bodies impale, souls scream.
Hands trembling, legs collapsing,
Faces burning, hearts imploding,
Blood turning oil, sweat turning sorrow.
O let us be damned.
O for our sins.
O let us be killed.
O for our sins.

Arés

"WENN DER SCHNEE ERZÄHLT" IST EIN RUHIGES, ACHTSAMES WINTERALBUM ÜBER NÄHE, ERINNERUNGEN UND DIE STILLE, DIE ENTSTEHT, WENN DRAUßEN ALLES LEISER WIRD. DIE SONGS VERBINDEN JAZZ-POP, AKUSTISCHE WÄRME UND POETISCHE BILDER. VON PLÄTZCHENDUFT UND SCHLITTENFAHRTEN BIS HIN ZU NACHTWELTEN, LICHT, INNERER TIEFE UND VERÄNDERUNG. EIN ALBUM FÜR WINTER VIBES, COZY MOMENTS UND GEMÜTLICHE ABENDE. MUSIK ZUM ATMEN, FÜHLEN UND HEIMKOMMEN. 

Nachtwelten

S F H music Auckland, New Zealand

Poet • Performer • Lyricist • Composer

Stephen Hollins is a New Zealand-born Renaissance artist whose four-decade career spans many genres of theatre, opera, improvisation, performance, poetry, writing and music. He transforms his poetry into songs blending psychology, performance, innovation and technology to create emotionally resonant and meaningful music.

His latest project, "Breakfast with Jung," is a groundbreaking multimedia collection exploring Carl Jung's psychological concepts through poetry and music—transforming a 400-page manuscript of 135 poems into a nine-album/chapter series that makes depth psychology accessible through an intimate musical and poetical journey toward the authentic Self that mirrors Jung's work.
"Support my music: https://sfhmusic.bandcamp.com"