This winter I've been struck by the colours I've seen. Letting my mind dwell on the feelings they evoke I found that the colours that most held my imagination were also stones. So I chose five stones who have given their names to colours appropriate to the winter season, and sat at the keyboard to record the following pieces.

As has become customary for me when composing these instrumentals, I let the notes play me with as little interference as possible. This project helped me to get back into practice in preparation for FAWM (February Album Writing Month). These songs are meditative and they carry on their wings the sights and sounds and scents of the coldest months of the year.

Composed January 31st 2010.

It began to snow when I sat down to carve out this one. Perfect muse. Soft and granular gypsum, lending itself to the artisans' hands that form and shape it. So like snow itself, waiting to be sculpted.

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Composed January 31st 2010.

For the layered stone in the ground and the shelves of snowstorm-laden clouds above them, a range from charcoal to plum. January greys are subtle and omnipresent, subduing the harsh glare off the snow in sunlight, and softening the natural tones of the landscape.

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Composed January 26th 2010.

I close my eyes to see the brilliance of the light shining through the slender melting fingers of ice dripping off the eaves. In tinkling tones they drip, drip, drip relentlessly, at the mercy of the sun transforming ice to glass to crystal.

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Composed January 26th 2010.

There is a moment every winter's night when twilight sinks so deep it dyes the snow a dark, vibrant blue that seems to glow, and the sky matches it exactly. The very air is blue and we are temporarily tattooed again by magic.

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Composed January 25th 2010.

Weeks ago I saw the water on the lake so still it was a mirror of the sky above which painted it a perfect shimmering burnished gold to green to periwinkle. It sparked a conversation among the children that the world must be changing into something new - what else might be concluded? - because the water was now a rainbow.

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Originally composed + recorded by Leslie Hudson, January 31st 2010.
Guitar composed + recorded by Bob King, February 20th 2010.

I met Bob King through FAWM and was immediately in love with the way he played his guitar. After many subsequent discussions regarding Muse, her means, and her vessels, we gave collaboration a whirl. Little did I know Alabaster would inspire such a response in him. Clearly we both heard the same music and had something to say about it.

It is hard for me to express the wonder and joy I felt when I first listened to this track. I rarely play with other musicians, and this is the first recording I’ve ever made with one so grand. The piano is the tinkling cold at the window, the guitar the warmth of the hearth-fire. Bob, you have my deepest thanks for sharing this vision with me.

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Originally composed + recorded by Leslie Hudson, January 31st 2010.
Guitar composed + recorded by Bob King, February 20th 2010.

The first time I truly listened to this track was through headphones, as I walked alone across Algonquin Island on my way to work. The snow covered the grass and the sunlight sparkled on the softening ice in the lagoon. The music came alive, mixed with the calls of sparrows and jays, and I felt the stealth of spring follow me and call to me from the meadow.

Another wonderful interpretation by Bob King, the second of what I hope will become many collaborations. I am honoured to share in the manifestation of these songs.

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