The Parallel

Welcome back - In case you’ve forgotten, this blog is a space for me to share my journey with you - the ups, the downs and everything in between. Using words instead of musical notes is turning out to be rather cathartic - just don’t expect my novel any time soon! I’ve always preferred reading little dots on lines rather than words on a page, but life, it turns out, is full of surprises!

The word Divorce (written with a capital D of course for full impact), carries a significant weight to it. Even the sound of it makes my eyes feel heavy. Millions of people have to go through it, and we all know someone who’s experienced it. You might be even going through a divorce as you read this. Each experience is different, some bad, some good. My experience was not necessarily unique - but what might be unusual is how the process of recording an album seemed to sync up coincidentally with the divorce process. This post talks about what happened between the offer to create the album - to the final day of the recording.  

With the offer from the label officially in my inbox, I took a big step - to apply for a full time masters course at Trinity Laban. I’d never been to music college (more on that in another post to come), and with the offer from the record label, I felt a pull to seek out mentorship on a serious level. The year between the audition and beginning of studying was one of the worst in my life. My separation was messy, traumatic and devastating. I felt like I was being dragged backwards through hedges, barely able to breathe. A lot happened. Walking through the doors of Trinity’s music department in September 2024, I instantly knew I was right where I was meant to be. It felt like a sanctuary. I could indulge in Kapustin’s music and my tutors never tried to influence my choices - in fact, they encouraged me and let me explore the repertoire freely. 

Every spare minute I had, around studying and teaching little ones where middle C was for the hundredth time, I was playing Kapustin. I’d always had a good relationship with practice, but when you find yourself in the middle of a breakdown, playing becomes something entirely different. I couldn’t physically do anything else other than play. Have you ever woken up everyday feeling like someone is standing on your chest? I have. And it sucks. Knowing I had access to a piano became the only reason I even got up. 

The divorce wasn't just a legal filing; it was a series of cruel, final coincidences. I will never forget our last necessary meeting to sign the contracts for the sale of our flat. We had to meet in Hatton Garden, London's famous diamond and luxury jewellery district. The sheer irony of the location was staggering: we had bought our wedding rings in Hatton Garden to begin our life together, and we were forced to return there to finalize the sale. This last, painful and legal meeting took place on our actual wedding anniversary—this time last year. The timing of it all felt like a huge middle finger from the universe.

So…the recording venue and dates were secured. Now I had to just get myself there and play. The whole process took me 6 days, split up into two groups (3 days in November 2024, and 3 days in April 2025). Various pianist friends suggested more days, some even less days - it seems there is no ‘right’ way to do this - so I just went with my gut and got it all done. By the time the first recording date came around, I was still legally married. On the last day of the November recording session, I received a phone call mid session. It was the estate agent informing me that the flat I had purchased with my husband had officially sold. Then, on the final day of the April session, an email from a solicitor comes with a very legal financial order attached. More painful synchronicity that I couldn't have predicted would happen in tandem. As I was pouring myself into these tracks, the universe kept throwing me rocks. I honestly couldn't believe the timing. I spent every day after recording sitting in the bath crying. 

I’ve always been a somewhat spiritual person, but I felt something larger at play during this time. When I received the takes back from the engineer I was honestly shocked at what I was listening to. Was that me playing? I’d been in  'Survivor Mode', as we call it. Get up, play, cry, sleep. So hearing it all back was bizarre. And now you are all about to hear it too. Yikes.

I write this on what would have been my 4th wedding anniversary, and 15 years together. Some people make it further than this, and some not even as far. When you go through a loss, there are different ways in which people cope. Some distract, avoid or go off the rails completely. For me, I faced it head on, but not alone - with the piano under my fingers through all the blood, sweat and absolutely mammoth tears. 

Here’s to Kapustin—the man who never knew I existed, but whose rigorous structure carried me through the worst days of my life. And I promise to keep the next post a bit less ‘divorcy’. Cheers!