THE ALBUM TOOK SIX MONTHS. THE LESSONS TOOK OVER FOURTEEN YEARS.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve noticed that life only makes sense in hindsight.
I have been in the studio for the past six months, taking the time to bring my next body of work to life and build a creative team of like-minded souls. I’m often asked what the process looks like. “Which comes first, the music or the lyrics?” “Do you set a block of time for you to write and work on music?” They imagine notebooks full of lyrics, melodies flying across the room, bouncing off the keys of my piano and perhaps endless cups of coffee…and they’re not entirely wrong.
The more I think about it, the truth is, I’ve come to realise this album didn’t begin six months ago. It began years ago when I first set foot on that stage. Suddenly I could hear sounds that felt like ‘me’, I just didn’t have the tools or the team to help externalise the intricacies, therefore I can only say that it wasn’t meant to be at that time. It was then that I realised the path to my artistic discovery was going to take a lot longer than I thought.
Although I never stopped working towards my musical goals, the dream had to take a back seat for a while and I had to be ‘okay’ with that realisation. The lessons that life kept throwing my way kept me distracted for long enough. It’s cliché but looking back on all the people that came and left, the multiple times I let my heart get in the way only for it to be broken, and perhaps the hearts I, too, also broke. Every single time I found myself flying high, there was always something or someone waiting to pull me back down immediately.
Every risk, mistake and chance encounter. Every season where I felt like I was being overlooked by God was, put-simply, the divine handy-work of the author of my life.
Fast forward to the present, I find myself enjoying the process a lot more than I ever did. When you release your grip from what you think you can control, you start to practice trust; in yourself, in the work you’re doing, in the people you surround yourself with, in the Universe, God - whatever you want to call it. You begin to let go and find that things fall into place slowly, slowly.
Life was never meant to be rushed. Nothing goes to waste. Not the detours, the disappointments, the seasons of waiting. Not even the moments that felt like failure at the time.
That’s the greatest gift of hindsight: the ability to see that what once felt like random chaos was quietly becoming a path.
For the first time in a very long time, I trust that it will lead me right where I need to be.
Gianna x
