As a child in the Arctic, my favourite time was the spring. My father would pack up the children and we'd be off by Skidoo and qamutik to our spring camp. I would sit at the back of the qamutik, dangling my feet and watching my Kamik boots drag against the sea ice and snow. I would look toward the horizon, trying to find where sea ice ended and the sky began, gazing up at the blue sky and the occasional white cloud floating across while I breathed in and out, trying to match the white clouds with my breath. I remember feeling the sting of the cold and loving it. More than anything else in the world, I loved looking out into the bay and seeing the white go on forever, feeling the power of that white expanse and its seeming vulnerability and purity. All of these images dance around in my mind when I am writing a song, experimenting with sounds or just simply sitting back listening the band play. All connected.