to my sistercousins
& all my strong hot queens
my blood, my goddesses,
live your dreams

A few months ago I was driving down a country road somewhere, sometime, late afternoon. I was on the phone with one of my amazing sister cousins, Jade. She is a beautiful red haired goddess a few months my senior, whom I share my genes of a large appetite for pleasure and a “special” genius/madness with. She, like many of my amazing support network, was offering her ear and wisdom. For at the time I was in the middle of a deep dark sea, a shadowy night of the soul, the belly of a beast, and a severe state of emotionomania. She said to me, “Well you know, no mud no lotus”. This mere phrase blew my mind and everything stood still for a moment. The simple truth hit me like a wave, and it all just made perfect sense.

For a brief period of my life, I went by the name “Mud”. One morning watching cartoons before school, Garfield cheekily said “well, my name is mud” after eating someones lasagna or something. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world and from that moment on, I was to be called Mud (for a couple of years anyway). To this day, Jade still calls me “Mud”, and I love it.

Not only was this phrase “no mud, no lotus” of great significance to me because of my bizarre childhood nomenclature. But also because it so simply stated something I already knew deep in my heart, something we all already know: that without suffering there is no joy, without darkness there is no light, and without the nourishing, dark, thick, unappreciated mud there is no fertile, colourful, delicate, and sensual lotus. I adopted this as a mantra, and a few weeks later, in a little boutique, a handmade copper ring popped out to me. Engraved on it were the words “no mud, no lotus”. I laughed out loud as my heart beat excitedly at the sheer magic of that moment. It has been hugging my right ring finger perfectly ever since.

Fast forward to a beautiful sunny drive out to the beach from Victoria on New Years Day of this year. Some dear musical friends of mine were talking about this “record per month “ (rpm) challenge that everyone and their cousins and their cousins cousins would partake in every February in Newfoundland. It is a world-renowned thing, but special to the Newfies, for the month of February can be especially dark, cold, and dreary. Winter doldrums at their finest. What better way to conquer a dark night of the soul then to create, for the sheer challenge and enjoyment of it? The objective was to write and record 10 songs, or 35 minutes, whichever came first, all in the month of February. “I’m gonna do it!” said I.

I had just made a big move at the end of the year and in January I had been recording and collaborating creatively for long amazing hours with my very talented uncle on a new professional EP. The sound and quality of my voice and playing reached new levels. During this time I was also asked to write a song for “the Existence Project”: a workshop a friend of mine facilitates to bring open discussion between people of marginalized and stigmatized communities. Coming out of a creative dry spell, the aforementioned, and my recent recent resurfacing out of the deep dark sea were all catalysts in propelling this project forward. I rented a beautiful expensive German microphone, borrowed an interface, turned off the breaker for the fridge and away I went.

But I wondered, when this rpm was done, would I dare share it with anyone? In a late night conversation in a dark bar last week, I got my answer. I sat with a respected and talented musician I’ve known my whole life and we discussed the merit in releasing something imperfect, unproduced, fresh out the gates, raw. In essence: “mud”. The next morning I woke up, and had my vindication:

I am releasing this “mud” with three intentions. The first is to encourage the choice and disciplined practice of creativity in all of you. Make the time, it is so important, and will fill your soul in ways no one or nothing else can. The second is for my own personal reason of committing to a project deadline, a project that has offered me the most exquisite healing experience I’ve ever had. And some of it was also just plain fun. You must understand my vulnerability and fear in this moment at the thought of sharing this completely unrefined, straight from the soul, work with any who will listen. Thirdly, the idea is to involve you, the listeners, my peers and supporters, in the evolution of these songs. With artistic critique and collaboration, growth, and fine-tuning, some of these songs may disappear, some may change entirely, and some may become hits on Rock 69 fm. They will in essence, become “the lotus”. You are all here for the birth of them; these seeds planted in the nutrient rich, thick, dark, mud. It’s amazing what a little bit of time and light can do.
I will be releasing one song a day for the next 11 days. Allow me to present to you “no mud, no lotus’…
A big thanks to Taryn Bodrug for the beautiful art.
And thank you all for your love and support.
xo
s.o.