Recently, Toronto was slammed with heavy storms and flash floods. Suddenly I had a flashback to my youth. It was 1996 and our family was living in Manila, The Philippines. My dad, who was out doing mission work in squatter areas every day, still hadn't come home. Hours passed. We didn't have cell phones or even beepers -- no way to communicate. We waited.
Music is an undeniably powerful thing. It's something I've been striving to learn how to use since childhood days when my dad's acoustic ramblings would put me to sleep in comfort. My new album Siberia Acoustic started out as just acoustic version of Siberia but turned into an entirely separate album. I hope this is what I'll get to play at the end of the world.
I worked hard, I believed I could be anything I wanted until I was 14. I remember feeling sick when I walked into the halls of my new school. I was made fun of for trying hard, I was made fun of for being too happy. I made some friends here and there, stood around with the misfits, the awkward misunderstoods. But looking back I knew we all were.
My collection began with Hadhafang -- a sword that belonged to the Elven princess Arwen in the Lord of the Rings films. My music started to take me to new places, and with each destination I tried to find something to bring home to the armoury: twin dragon daggers from the Edinburgh castle in Scotland, a swordfish tusk blade complete with clay sheath from Costa Rica, a pair of boot daggers from Germany. It was about marking the place and time taking a piece of cold, hard proof home. I was growing my edge.