Let the pouring rain wash it all away
Let it wash away the dust from my shoulders and my face Let it wash it all away
Let it wash it all away
Let it wash it all away
Let the crashing waves wash it all away
Let it wash away the dust from my shoulders and my face Let it wash it all away
Let it wash it all away
Let it wash it all away
Will you help me take the weight
From my shoulders for a day
So I can stand up straight to see clearly
Sometimes the world around can get so heavy
And I cannot feel the ground underneath my feet
While I’m in your embrace
Will you take up my pain In your white fingertips
And take it to the sea

The conversation in this track was a spontaneous recording of a conversation I had with friends beside a fire at Fairy Creek. We had just hike in to a remote bush camp over 9km up a logging road in the rain, all soaking wet and reflecting on why we were there and how we got there. There were many intricate complexities to that movement, and a lot to reflect upon in hindsight, things that were beautiful, inspiring, connections made, lessons learned, but also a lot that was overlooked that should have been at the forefront. There was both healing and a lot of harm inflicted.
I will always cherish moments like these though.
The experiences there, the people I met, inspired me to push the boundaries of my limits, taught me how much I don’t know, and has undoubtedly changed me forever.
I took many field recordings of the forest, people, rivers, and creeks during my time there, many are sprinkled throughout this album.
*A fun fact about this track, I had originally wrote the second line of the second verse as:
“Let it wash away the pain from the past until today”
but somehow when I sang it in the recording session it came out this way.
I didn’t even notice the mistake until we were far past the recording portion of the project, and accepted this little change as what is meant to be in this version of the song)
Like I mentioned before, my favorite place to go is the ocean. When I feel overwhelmed or lost, joyful or grieving,
I come here, step in about ankle deep, face outwards, breathe, and sing.
I could stand there forever, feel the way foamy waves wash against my legs, easing the heaviest loads.
Most of the songs I’ve written were conceived there, without trying too much or even thinking about it. Whispers in the wind I happen to catch, prayers I find myself repeating, and when I get lucky I will remember them later, write them down, and they grow into a song.