Losing A Friend: A Different Kind Of Earthquake, And Angels
Posted on July 22, 2026
Hi Lovelies,
Where to begin with this update…my last note to all of you was late-May and, well, music was on my mind and community. Christchurch was moving into winter and the City vibe was one of creativity brewing alongside those famous NZ lattes.
Then came news — the really bad kind that shifts how you see living. One night in late May I got a call. My mentor and musical soul brother, Pete, was in the hospital…cardiac arrest…stable but with his condition uncertain. Two and a half weeks passed with so much happening in between, but in the end I lost my friend — a dear friend, one of my very best. He was young and vibrant and charismatic, kind and generous and non-judgmental, community-minded, and devoted to his children. He gave the biggest hugs and had the broadest grin imaginable, and he was a talented musician in the middle of recording a solo CD of original music.
Talk about lessons — big ones. Talk about grief, wow, in bucket loads and in waves. But something else surfaces in the empty spaces. Sitting with that emptiness is hard, yet it's a time for reflection. It's when the tears flow and the heart aches, but also when poems arrive or the light-bulb 'aha' moments strike. It's when I feel my connection to something greater and profound. The superficial veil lifts when someone close to you passes, especially someone so young. It's the nitty-gritty essence of living that starts to matter. Pete built his life around his 'Circle of Friends'. His friends were his community, and the many circles he had have woven together since his passing. We're making music together, reminiscing, and planning how to finish his CD. We find ourselves comforting one another, smiling and hugging more when we greet, knowing that's exactly what Pete would do.
We wrote music together and played as a duo for four years — his lead guitar behind my songs, my vocals behind his. In January 2012 we walked into the aptly named Angels Gate Recording Studio to start tracking his solo CD and a special song, 'Angel', which we'd co-written years earlier but never properly recorded. We laid down the guitar and vocal tracks that January and left the song unfinished while we waited for a friend to add the final touches with her delicate cello. Months slipped by, and as Pete worked on the other songs in the studio, 'Angel' was set aside. It wasn't until after Pete's passing that the cello part was recorded and the song completed.
Angel has just been released as a single. It's a song that speaks from the heart of despair — a lamentation, a plea for help from within and beyond oneself. It's a call to the Divine. It spoke to us deeply, and we played it at every gig. At the heart of our music, we've always tried to speak our truth and act with love. How simple it is. As Pete used to say, "love is the way."
Where to begin with this update…my last note to all of you was late-May and, well, music was on my mind and community. Christchurch was moving into winter and the City vibe was one of creativity brewing alongside those famous NZ lattes.
Then came news — the really bad kind that shifts how you see living. One night in late May I got a call. My mentor and musical soul brother, Pete, was in the hospital…cardiac arrest…stable but with his condition uncertain. Two and a half weeks passed with so much happening in between, but in the end I lost my friend — a dear friend, one of my very best. He was young and vibrant and charismatic, kind and generous and non-judgmental, community-minded, and devoted to his children. He gave the biggest hugs and had the broadest grin imaginable, and he was a talented musician in the middle of recording a solo CD of original music.
Talk about lessons — big ones. Talk about grief, wow, in bucket loads and in waves. But something else surfaces in the empty spaces. Sitting with that emptiness is hard, yet it's a time for reflection. It's when the tears flow and the heart aches, but also when poems arrive or the light-bulb 'aha' moments strike. It's when I feel my connection to something greater and profound. The superficial veil lifts when someone close to you passes, especially someone so young. It's the nitty-gritty essence of living that starts to matter. Pete built his life around his 'Circle of Friends'. His friends were his community, and the many circles he had have woven together since his passing. We're making music together, reminiscing, and planning how to finish his CD. We find ourselves comforting one another, smiling and hugging more when we greet, knowing that's exactly what Pete would do.
We wrote music together and played as a duo for four years — his lead guitar behind my songs, my vocals behind his. In January 2012 we walked into the aptly named Angels Gate Recording Studio to start tracking his solo CD and a special song, 'Angel', which we'd co-written years earlier but never properly recorded. We laid down the guitar and vocal tracks that January and left the song unfinished while we waited for a friend to add the final touches with her delicate cello. Months slipped by, and as Pete worked on the other songs in the studio, 'Angel' was set aside. It wasn't until after Pete's passing that the cello part was recorded and the song completed.
Angel has just been released as a single. It's a song that speaks from the heart of despair — a lamentation, a plea for help from within and beyond oneself. It's a call to the Divine. It spoke to us deeply, and we played it at every gig. At the heart of our music, we've always tried to speak our truth and act with love. How simple it is. As Pete used to say, "love is the way."