The woman behind the words

A storyteller in three keys

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I never set out to be three things at once. It happened the way most honest things do — slowly, then all at once. A melody needed words, the words wanted to stand on their own, and the poems eventually grew long enough to become stories.

Today I split my hours between a battered notebook, a piano that's slightly out of tune, and a desk that overlooks the grey-blue weather of the New Zealand coast. The sea, it turns out, is a generous co-writer.

My work lives in the small spaces between people — the things we almost say, the love we carry quietly, the goodbyes we rehearse but never deliver.