05/15/19

The rain and fog brought memories of grief.

When something familiar suddenly is veiled by layers of cloud and you get lost in your own skin. You notice each pulse is there with purpose and machine-like endurance as it feeds the impulse that stems out of the blue blood and onto the world as reaction. A shaman in BC once told me to "observe yourself." Sounds so simple but it took a lot of time to ever sink in to any practical use. It became an important perspective to adopt. It remains important.

Some days grief just grabs a hold of you and there is nowhere to escape. It felt confrontational. I wrote a very simple lyric from of this place. "Don't let me go and I won't let you go." It acts more as mantra than song. I was broken when it came to me. I remember the moment the melody entered there was a clear exodus of trapped pain. Like a wound that leaves scars, it becomes a part of you. I certainly have mine to share. There are residuals to any healing.

I have been honing in on a unique tuning for a few years now, it seems to demarcate a different phase of life. From low to high, Eb G D G C Eb, it holds a heavy sound in the bottom end and has many mysteries in the upper range. I often get good and lost in this mode. Today was entirely captivating in this tuning. As rain dripped slowly onto the ground around me a natural rhythm set in. I allowed the sound to take a hold of me and do the voodoo. loosening myself into trance or similar type states of being.

05/14/19

In the low single digits the tentacles of my fingertips are blindly reaching for sounds when all feeling has froze, slipped from reach. I overcome and continue.

The micro millimeters of tension and release of the capo dictate how much of the tone is revealed. A sixteenth of a turn too tight and I loose control, a fraction of that too loose and I get an unpleasing thud or buzz. I have generally been sticking closely to the tonal positions where harmonics are exposed. If I change capo positions to in-between two frets I get sounds that are atonal, outside of the divisions of the 12 tones of western music tradition but these margins offer valid places to explore. A feeling of uncharted territory is born in these places.

When the rains come hard like today, I relax deeper and know there will be no human audience. I can let loose any inhibitions and take any musical chance that happens to come. Playing outside the margins is the ultimate liberation and today I took the opportunity.

This piece was recorded after the deeper atonal excursions occurred.

05/13/19

Low tide jams. Overcast skies with a clear mind. A perfect thirteenth day of May. Many songs explored and obscured.

A random taste of today:

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And a pic from the Obscura:

05/12/19

Day 12 - Discipline of Rituals

I caught three words on the radio this afternoon, totally unaware of the context or who spoke them but they were, “…discipline of rituals.” They couldn’t be more fitting as I made my way up along the shore highway to Cheverie. This is a running theme for productivity in my life. I am sentimental and I thrive in routine. The entire impetus for the 90 days was that as February (2019) dawned on me I realized I hadn’t taken a day off since October 19th (2018). That happens to be my birthday ritual I have set aside for recording the start of a new Volume of WANDARIAN music. I’ve done that for three years running and aim to keep that going. If I could work my farm job tending large animals so consistently, surely I could perform music with the same steadfast rigor. The two activities are distinct, but both are passions that feed into one another. I am incredibly fortunate for both gifts. The husbandry grounds me, brings me into the present moment and enables emotional awareness through bonds I’ve developed with each animal. Pure spirits that take a lot of muscle and energy to tend. Keeps my body active, my mind free to wander, my soul replenished and my spirit free. Without fail, I always feel better after the day’s chores are complete.

This four directional balancing act (mind, body, spirit and soul) comes from a special book, more of a life guide I recommend for anyone open, The Sacred Tree. It has tools that if received and practiced bring about awareness, wisdom, love and respect into this world. I cannot recommend it enough.

Without knowing it, the 90 day mission has quickly become a ritual. It takes sacrifice, but so did learning the instrument in the first place as does working on a farm. With sacrifice comes appreciation and reward. I love playing in this space for it creates a sense of malleability upon the audience. Placing performer and listener on equal footing to hear the sounds as they escape from the guitar and enliven the different areas, in and around the structure.

I thought about mothers everyone and enjoyed playing with that intent.

05/11/19

This is all a lesson in allowing whatever that comes settle in and flow.

Though I am stationary, sitting on a small wicker stool, eyes closed, heart open, I'm not sure where the mind is but it feels like flying. What curious equipment we have. This whole journey is turning out to be an investigation into what drives creativity out of me. A navigational ride from the cosmos through to the psyche and out the other side. A willingness to travel to the depths of existence and make a soundtrack for the trip.

I began playing guitar seriously at the age of 8 when my parents signed me up for lessons and along with that, made me practice for at least an hour a day. I was a horrible student. Tried quitting a few times, until grade 7 when I decided I had enough. I did quit. Made excuses to skip out on a month's worth of lessons where the nylon string Samick sat in the corner firmly in it’s soft shell case. Reluctantly I was dragged back for one more lesson. One more Tuesday night from 7:00-8:00. I had horrible anxiety and a feeling of bottomless guilt that ran from my head to the souls of my feet, pure dread. Something changed, all of a sudden, all the theory and reading and technical jargon I was immersed in enabled something else to take over, and from that point forward I had to be told to put the guitar down. The only talent I have is that of perseverance.

Every time spectators come to visit intentionally or haphazardly, the amount of positive feedback is worth every minute of struggle I endure. My own challenges are in allowing this positive feedback to really sink in. This part feels counter intuitive. A group of Quebecois travelers made for a delightful audience for much of today’s session. Getting to learn the intricacies of the space is allowing for some memorable sonic presentations. Posture, angles, attack, touch, feel, tide level, wind, birds, humidity and a myriad of other performance variables create an experience not unlike the mixing of an album. Putting a lot of effort into what our ears are able to hear. Curating a special moment from all the variables at hand, today was a fulfilling effort.

05/10/19

Day 10

The cold rainy day could not keep me away from the mission. I don’t usually approach this music with clear intent, but today was a little different. A friend was undergoing a major surgery to remove cancerous tumors from her abdomen and colon. The only thing I could do was attempt to create sounds that would be soothing, easy on the ears and pleasing to the mood. Feeling the cold on my hands reaching down to the fingertips did not deter my determination. Each note had carried a lot of weight and in doing so, I achieved brand new themes and had profound depths of creation.

Very little for words today, other than I just found out the 8hr surgery was a success.

05/9/19

1/9th through the performance / installation / process and I am invigorated by how much it has spawned, creatively it is hard to contain a grasp. Similar was the feeling when I first broke free from the trappings that were constructed over the last decade or so in the pursuance of the guitar as medium. The whole impetus happened to be on a dreadnought that had been tuned to open C for over a year. Something about that particular guitar and the big broad and deep clear ringing of that tuning had me fascinated for a long time. It conjured a piano type quality and like every alternate tuning there is so much to discover.

The Wandarian mode still feels exhilarating to explore. Up until this Concert Obscura series I was afraid to spend too much time in this territory. I was afraid of ruining the magic or not honouring the process fully and scared of lackluster results. Part of the 90 days is to put an end to such negative thinking and openly explore the limitless possibilities. I am learning so much on so many levels. Music, therapy, sound engineering, the juxtaposed struggle to find peace, quieting the mind and body, creativity and the process as well as a live performance routine.

I have learned that I am the hardest audience member to please. The mind goes to many places in these two hour sessions. Today was a real battle to remain focused as life tends to pile so much up. Observing the effects of thought or non-thought has on the outcome of the sound is a unique world to enter into. Sometimes the negative can channel extreme beauty, sometimes the positive thoughts do not allow me to fully develop and theme or idea. The meandering nothingness thoughts are the worst. They clutter and mask melody, don’t allow clear direction and purpose . Playing the guitar is one thing, taming the perpetual thought machine is an entirely different beast.

Today’s performance revolved entirely around the original open C tunings - one major and one minor. All of the material from Volume I was played on these tunings, the first hour today I spent immersed in those pieces, but with an evolved sense of containment versus the origins when I was exploding with the material. Also I am now using the nylon string guitar so the strings act and react in far different ways than that old steel string Fender.

The resonances inside and around the Obscura I have learned, are far greater and more pleasing to the ear with the nylon strings rather than steel. The nylon has a pure rise and fall to the wave, very soft to the touch and as the sound travels around unimpeded by right angles or corners the notes contain unique life forms all unto themselves. The steel strings on the other hand, have harsh attack, sharp ringing vibrations and do not contain the life or beauty of their counterpart.

I am excited to see what tomorrow brings.

05/8/19

The slightest change in humidity can alter the life of the guitar from hour to hour. Leaving one leaning on a recliner in the sun porch overnight can muddy the tone dramatically. I can override this by digging in even deeper for producing sound, even if that means playing quieter. I am writing before my session for the first time, circumstances are such.

Music making has an element of perseverance in my years. I set roadblocks on purpose, to try for something extra to have to overcome. This has been a course of action for my entire life. I tend to thrive in the struggle and what can be achieved under less than ideal circumstances. I also like hearing some form of struggle in other artists as they’re trying to get somewhere as opposed to repeating something already there. Improvisation is a way of life. The idea that the more one limits themselves, the more freedoms we ultimately have to break these conventions and parameters.

It is all tension and release.

The article about El Duende is still total captivation. Alignment is all I have been striving for. Knowing that civilizations have been thinking- and sharing about these metaphysical realms and constellation patterns and cycles makes me feel less lonely. Music does the same. It has tangible traces and lineages no matter what modality or genre.

That is one of the deeper themes of this whole w a n d a r i a n thing. Busting through specific categorization, it is the soundscape to finding a new vocabulary on the instrument. I love how the guitar has so many voices and endless fascinations. Again, the idea of a rawer, border-less time.

05/7/19

It began so clear. A dream as a photograph. A sound familiar as nesting birds in spring. The starlings collected at work. A spark that wind grew to fire. An ancient melody encoded in sound engulfed by stone covered by sky. A sea encroaches over dykes then retreats like nothing happened. The rocks tell the stories of our elders. We must learn and to learn is to listen, to listen is to hold the tongue and discover our truth. A voice on the wind only I can hear. To catch it in mid air and spin into song while learning to believe. Exercising the muscle of imagination that is so often taken from us. Bringing dreams into focus knowing what to aim for and mistakes and changing objectives,the nature of reality. Some things I can't explain. What initiates the seed of idea?

Music has been a tool in healing people for 50,000 years and likely many more. Like ancestral harps with rhythm from galloping horses and rattling of fresh shells and old dried hollow bones. The voice is masked and cloaking. Birds and wind don’t lie, nor does the sea or what lies truly deep inside. To mine the trenches of existence just to find a vein of truth to follow. There are many paths, but only you know when you stray. Words from my father , words I live by.

I stayed in a minor tuning to present a soundtrack for the clouds taking out a full afternoon sun. In with the coming tide., no where else to go. I found peace, that was all I was looking for.

05/6/19

Day 6

From Wikipedia -

El duende is the spirit of evocation. It comes from inside as a physical/emotional response to art. It is what gives you chills, makes you smile or cry as a bodily reaction to an artistic performance that is particularly expressive. Folk music in general, especially flamenco, tends to embody an authenticity that comes from a people whose culture is enriched by diaspora and hardship; vox populi, the human condition of joys and sorrows.

According to Christopher Maurer, editor of "In Search of Duende", at least four elements can be isolated in Lorca's vision of duende: irrationality, earthiness, a heightened awareness of death, and a dash of the diabolical. The duende is an earth spirit who helps the artist see the limitations of intelligence, reminding them that "ants could eat him or that a great arsenic lobster could fall suddenly on his head"; who brings the artist face-to-face with death, and who helps them create and communicate memorable, spine-chilling art. The duende is seen, in Lorca's lecture, as an alternative to style, to mere virtuosity, to God-given grace and charm (what Spaniards call "ángel"), and to the classical, artistic norms dictated by the muse. Not that the artist simply surrenders to the duende; they have to battle it skillfully, "on the rim of the well", in "hand-to-hand combat". To a higher degree than the muse or the angel, the duende seizes not only the performer but also the audience, creating conditions where art can be understood spontaneously with little, if any, conscious effort. It is, in Lorca's words, "a sort of corkscrew that can get art into the sensibility of an audience... the very dearest thing that life can offer the intellectual." The critic Brook Zern has written, of a performance of someone with duende, "it dilates the mind's eye, so that the intensity becomes almost unendurable... There is a quality of first-timeness, of reality so heightened and exaggerated that it becomes unreal...".[3]

Lorca writes: "The duende, then, is a power, not a work. It is a struggle, not a thought. I have heard an old maestro of the guitar say, 'The duende is not in the throat; the duende climbs up inside you, from the soles of the feet.' Meaning this: it is not a question of ability, but of true, living style, of blood, of the most ancient culture, of spontaneous creation." Lorca, in his lecture, quotes Manuel Torre: "everything that has black sounds in it, has duende." [i.e. emotional 'darkness'] ... This 'mysterious power which everyone senses and no philosopher explains' is, in sum, the spirit of the earth, the same duende that scorched the heart of Nietzsche, who searched in vain for its external forms on the Rialto Bridge and in the music of Bizet, without knowing that the duende he was pursuing had leaped straight from the Greek mysteries to the dancers of Cadiz or the beheaded, Dionysian scream of Silverio's siguiriya." ... "The duende's arrival always means a radical change in forms. It brings to old planes unknown feelings of freshness, with the quality of something newly created, like a miracle, and it produces an almost religious enthusiasm." ... "All arts are capable of duende, but where it finds greatest range, naturally, is in music, dance, and spoken poetry, for these arts require a living body to interpret them, being forms that are born, die, and open their contours against an exact present."[

05/5/19

Day 5

The fog impaired vision this morning, reducing visibility to a few feet but opened the depths of internal sights for many miles.. The air was filled with stiff salt carrying mists of ghosts and playing tricks with echoes until high noon when the sun overtook leaving for a peaceful session.

I centered around two main themes that I were entirely improvised but fully formed, then explored and expanded upon for about 4o mins each. One densely layered piece danced around the stone walls and came back with more vigor than when the notes left my grasp. The top end frequencies were rounded with a clear attack but no harshness. I was in awe of the sounds. I discovered a new position that retains the body and initial tone without getting washed away in the natural ambiance.

The second piece was much more sparse, but focused around a moving repetitive harmonic sequence with a fragile melody on top. It contrasted nicely with the moving bass line, avoiding my tendencies to pulsate a single drone tonality. To have the freedom to work on these minutia is a wonderful gift. The ritual of getting to play uninterrupted for entire hours is allowing for deeper understanding of all things. Not only the technical aspects I am uncovering on a daily basis, or the harmonic and melodic content to explore, but the time is also allowing for conceptual, metaphysical, mind and soul uniting processes to mingle.

If ever I feel disconnected or at loss for inspiration, I head to the main chamber and close the heavy wooden doors. I take position below the projected image and look in complete wonder at the outside world. The slow moving pace of rural NS life, pictured on the floor. What thrill it is to see birds sail across the floor / sky, or the tide reflecting the stark blues. The haze that is created by the projection creates pastel type colouring, sometimes vague traces of the seascapes moving features contrasted by deep details that surface in portions of the image. Watching this living lens, taking a few full breaths and I am back in trance, and able to create freely and unhinged.

My objective was not to play any rehearsed song or figure today. I was able to provide this for about 90% of the time.

Observing that the mind was much quieter today, refreshingly so, after being seemingly trapped in undertows of fleeting thoughts perpetual, it was no wonder the music flowed clearly and with calming side effects,

05/4/19

With any emotion, are we held captives or proud captains?

After all we are the creation of the emotions and all have access to control of these systems. This takes a unique form for each individual, as many tactics as grains of sand the world over. The exercise of volition, equipping ourselves with whatever tool we need is available and can result in huge amounts of struggle. Caught in the weeds of reaction, the depths of judgment and mountains of fear, our decisions are our freedoms. We are meek. Not cautious or observant emotions take over and can swallow dreams, extinguish passion and rot entire souls. Harnessing the struggle is at the core of my being. A large part of my electrical impulse is powered by this uphill climb.

Not that today was a struggle, rather the opposite. My time on the guitar is so pure and the most ultimate of joys. I will explore and share my connections to the instrument throughout this undertaking. Unity of all directions as time molds to the notes tying imagination to the living reflection projected onto concrete. The running narrative that decodes the jungle of thoughts however, was like trying to hold back wild rivers.

I am sharing 90 seconds or so, an excerpt of today’s attempt toward untangling or unifying the raw mess of thoughts like circus circuits. Every note is juggled in a spell of purpose and accident, working together trying to articulate, retrieve and expel the message as it spins into melody. Sitting in the back wing of the structure with the door half open, the sound is clear but bedded by the quilt of salt air coming in from high tide. It dances in the nasal passage and conjures lost childhood as birds go about their business.

05/3/19

Day 3

"The only thing certain is uncertainty." I woke up with this phrase on my mind, not sure where it came from or what it means but It struck me as a good theme for the day's intent. Exploring a few new areas outside the inner chamber but still under the parabolic brick, I was rewarded with new reverberations of possibility. I am learning to see through a new lens. The obscura is like being inside the eye, but also inside the ear drum. Subtle nuanced notes can ring clear while being heavily wrapped in blankets of bass drones and flurries of accompaniments. Controlling the rests, the spaces in between is creating a new conceptual approach. The nature of playing with capo manipulations and using the sonic space as an engineer would point a microphone to achieve vision is familiar and newly inspiring on several levels.

More than a few visitors today, sharing the music, the sound space and the camera projections gave me affirmation that I'm doing exactly what I should be, sans expectation of any kind.

Still searching for the thread of truth. The line that weaves through valleys and across meadows and over mountains and stitches our soul back together from all the plundering and pounding it takes. Music works wonders. After so many years of playing it still can feel childlike and brand new. It is amazing how we can all benefit from dropping off expectations and allowing the source to drift and flow. Collecting lost inner molecules and trappings of emotions, carrying them along the path and projecting outward, where they land is no one’s guess. The process is crucial and necessary.

05/2/19

day 2

I awoke with self doubt.

I am plagued and riddled by this thought pattern. It can take all the effort I have just to get by. It isn’t always sustained, it comes back from time to time, sometimes out of nowhere. I drove to work second guessing everything, letting that doubt overtake and conquer the morning. The Iceman, Wim Hof whose breathing technique I am introducing to my daily routine said "Don't think about it, just do it."

As soon as I reached the hill overlooking Cheverie, the Bay and the Salt Marshes I was overcome with joy. I let everything drop away and allow the beauty to swallow me. I couldn't have been more excited to just pick up the guitar and see what it had to offer today. The first guitar lesson I had in about 10 years was over skype with the great Derek Gripper last year. Known for his adaptations of Toumani Diabate's incredible kora playing, he suggested I don't try to "practice" at all. Instead, see what the instrument has to offer that day, that moment, unburdened by what I played like the day, the week, the year or the decade before. What an inspiring tactic.

As the sun gains her springtime strength almost by the minute, I let the bird songs take flight. The wind was a whisper today. Not the growl of yesterday. I felt like my music today would be the connecting tissue between these quiet gusts and the birdsongs. Giving over to the unknown and simply allowing it all to unfold the way it was meant. At some points I followed the flight, other times I was leading things onward.

Transfixed on a circular pattern this afternoon I sat motionless other than my fingertips on the strings. As a child I learned If I leaned the guitar's headstock onto a wall, wooden table or chair, anything that resonates, it can amplify the instrument in profound ways. If I put my ear directly on the side of that object, a world opens up. I lose where I am, and don’t care where I’ve been and am solely focused on the spacious and intimate sounds these notes and rests create. Stepping heart and foot into the Camera Obscura engulfs me in similar ways. I grew up doing this to not disturb the other five members of my household growing up. More enormous than I and smaller than a speck of sand these vibrations pass through and into and out of. I stumbled upon this world early on, and tried to keep it guarded and sacred. This guarding does not serve my purpose anymore. It had to take my 34 years of life to learn this. There is hope knowing this world of using guitar as transfer of sound energy always exists. The vibrations can still enter the bloodstream and affect our molecules, altering the DNA of our makeup. An inside perspective, where’d I’d always be an outsider.

With the discovery of the Wandarian mode, it hearkens back to those early childhood struggles, but a way of also breaking free from the old constraints (creating new ones in doing so). Out of the many profound lessons I had while studying the guitar in university, the juxtaposition of giving yourself specific parameters has the ability to open up into the infinite. For instance, playing a scale using only a single string, or improvising a solo over any jazz standard within five frets using one string. These limitations lead to a myriad of articulations and nuances often not investigated or taught in the status quo of guitar vernacular, leading to discoveries and explorations in all directions.

The creative process is messy. It takes many twists and wrong turns to find truth. Hopefully the connective threads are interesting, musical as one navigates through. The important part is to keep seeking.

05/1/19

For the last two weeks and much longer I've been struggling with the level and amount of hatred and cruelty in the world. Wrestling with this has kept me awake for nights while invading the daily life. So many issues, as much as I attempt to shield myself from the onslaught, word still spreads far and pierces like needles no matter how much we try.

I realize that my way of reconciling all of this hatred and cruelty is exactly what I'm embarking upon. Making the guitar sound is joy. Pure and simple as that.

Bearing everything I have, I am not playing music to sell beer, though I have an appreciation for the work it requires. I'm digging my spiritual heels into something deeper, some connection to ancestral and celestial invisible things while trying to appreciate and enjoy each moment.

I am reminded that this is also a solo journey, and how we are all responsible for our own realities and the work required to achieve any level of peace.

04/28/19 - Concert Obscura

On May 1st I commence 90 days of performances in and around the camera obscura, an incredible structure of marvel, wonder and nostalgia within kissing distance of the Minas Basin. These tides helped give birth to a new mode and approach to the guitar, an instrument I have 28 years of experience with. My connections to the strings and wood go as deep and far as my blood pounds red. The discovery I stumbled upon on October 4th 2016 have changed the course of my life. Like the vessel it was named after, WANDARIAN is the bird within taking flight or the invisible winds that wander and travel all corners and edges of seas and lands. It marks a spiritual rebirth and captures sounds, textures, timbres and notes not readily available to the instrument. I am playing both sides of the string, and all points in between finding tones that resonate with sounds of music from all over the earth. I am highly dissatisfied with the status quo. For the last week I have been pondering hard of the cruelty and hatred that infiltrates so much of what we’re exposed to in this age. It has kept me awake for nights and has cut into all my waking moments, this cruelty and hatred I cannot reconcile. And then I thought of this performance project and the reasons why. On the deepest level, 90 days in the camera obscura is no different than doing what I do and have done everyday for the last 28 years. Herein lies the answer to reconcile and counter all the hatred, by sharing this music that is unique to me, a gift I have nurtured, sacrificed, lived and almost died for. Music I have ritualized, fantasized and continue to dream and treasure, expand, contract, dissect and mine the deepest reaches of my consciousness and the ever changing nature of molecules.

Connectivity of the ages, through sound and music as the universal language. Dismantle boundaries and dissolve borders, to overthrow the status quo. Using the guitar as vessel, like the seas that circulate and hug every shore. (Thermohaline circulation (THC) is a part of the large-scale ocean circulation that is driven by global density gradients created by surface heat and freshwater fluxes.) These waves we wade in have reached every corner of the world at some point and will continue to spread and drift into one great sea. We are one great land. Does it get more beautiful than that?

A new sound on familiar strings from calloused hands and a full heart. A struggle, a search, the embodiment of an alternative way of life. The separation of mind / body / spirit is a facade. It has led civilization down ego driven roads and curated beliefs that become trappings. This separation has grave consequences and takes a lifetime to re-balance these weights. Creation comes in all forms and is everywhere. I continue to give most of my life over to music. The volumes I am releasing are the encyclopedias of a new journey. There is a new vocabulary at hand but I must uncover and decode it. The results are what I hope at the very least are musical if not entirely "music." The moment I discovered this inroad, the possibilities have become forever etched in like a permanent muse that has grown into my flesh.

Volume I is the explosion. Fragments of the old self remain out of desperation, futile attempts out of necessity. All the anguish, self harm, old habits, notions of self and ego all dropped away. It is pure and raw struggle.

Volume II is acceptance, understanding and observation. Knowing that we are our emotions and we are responsible for our realities.

I am mixing volumes III and IV. Soon both will be released. Volume III is electric and again sticking to my firm parameters of solo guitar performances, no overdubs or looping or effects. Volume IV is a cold and windy November evening of nylon string guitar performances in the camera obscura. It has calming effects and I was just trying to play beautiful music on a beautifully wild night.

I am trying to make music for everyone that came before and everyone that will become and everyone that is. A unifying listening experience connected to the breath but bound by stars beyond grasp and reach. Tied to each other like the grass that beds the forest or the roots hugging tangled out of sight where we bury the dead. An immersive sound experience, wandarian is a mode of transportation for molecules wanting to find home. It is a guitar technique employing capo (transposing device for the guitar) manipulations.

The process is what I strive to uphold and it is this most difficult to share. If I fail to honour the ten minutes of stretching and meditating the music does not flow. It stumbles like water blocked by fallen trees or beaver dams. I will never forget that first session and the first moment captured on tape of this journey. I simply called it "WANDARIAN." I was scared shitless. I had to let go, shed the old skin and step into a new pathway leading to the unknown.