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Every stop is a story - Darwin to Adelaide River

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  Every stop is a story - Darwin to Adelaide River The Adelaide River Rupture (image to be uploaded - subscribe to be notified) The storm did not break over the Adelaide River plains; rather, reality tore open along the track. To the left, the familiar Top End landscape clung fiercely to its quiet melancholy. A lone gum tree stood sentinel over the charred scrub and dry earth, its leaves catching the last bruised light of a brooding wet-season sky. In the hollow below, the old fictional homestead crouched beside the rutted dirt road, enduring the heavy stillness that always settles before the atmosphere ruptures. Then came the tear. It began not with thunder, but with an overwhelming, luminous heat that shredded the grey overcast into molten ribbons. You could feel the vortex of raw energy sweeping through radiant ambers, searing cadmium oranges, and blinding celestial whites. The vortex descended like a folded dimension brushing against the earth. Where the atmospheric rift touch...
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Obsidian static the puppet master

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  Obsidian static, the puppet master. (Verse 1) The crevice opens like a silent, dusty lung Air thick with minerals and a thousand forgotten years I'm rappelling down the sheer black into a chasm's memory My boots crunch on shattered polymer No sound but the suit's respiration But the stillness is a stage The jagged walls, they lean in now (Refrain) The Paraknowing a cold spike of dread at the base of the skull It’s not a thought, it’s a wave Static buzz. Who's the puppet and who is the master? High-tensile wires disappear into the light The tightening the silent pull above the gully (Verse 2) The godly face, brittle stone work It emerges, eyes blank and unseeing But it broadcasts a sharp spike of loss and profound love My logic stutters, snagging on the input An effigy , a sentinel or just a mirror I turn and see the audience waiting Small, white figures, balanced stone totems They are all part of it (Verse 3) The strings pass through my wrist Not from me, but through...
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Nu Jazz Between Peaks and Valleys A Journey Within

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  Between Peaks and Valleys: A Journey Within Lyrics We march forward. We march forward. Each step stirs dust into the air—still, unmoving, heavy air. Our silhouettes stretch long, etched across twilight mountains. The sun—neither fully risen nor set—pauses, and hovers. A witness. A silent guardian. Beginnings and endings, both here and distant. Between peaks, between valleys, we walk. We move together, but alone. Each of us. Each step is ours, yet shared. No words, no destination. No destination is spoken aloud. We are suspended. Suspended in transit, where time unravels, where place dissolves, where movement lingers, without end. This space—this space between past and future— This is the place. This is the sacred space. Each step is an act of faith. Each step is a leap into the unknown. The mountain pulls at us—its shadow reaching, grasping, holding. But light pulls, too. Light on the horizon, a promise. A call we cannot ignore. The burden we carry is more than we thought. It is ...
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