Where my narrative journey began

From an early age I have been into music, first listening then playing guitar to singing. Whether listening to or playing music in what ever form it can be very therapeutic. The spoken voice can also be therapeutic. Now without going through the whole story, I will leave that for another time, I would like to share with you where my voice over/narration journey began.

In the summer of 2011 one of my good friend Chris Bishop who I met through an OMD (online music distribution) site that he ran called Project Overseer (he is a film maker HD Visuals), came to visit me and my wife for a week. With him was another good friend Lisa his wife and baby son at the time. He also brought his filming equipment. Over a few days we traveled round the Lake District and Chris took allot of film footage, that he was going to put together for a Landscape channel.

After they went home after a wonderful week around the Lake District, he proceeded to edit the footage together. He put some music to it. Then another now good friend, a poet called Maricet wrote a poem inspired by Chris’ video “Moments In Time”. He loved it and asked me to record the poem as he liked my voice. Except I had to put on a bit of a northern accent, sounds more like Newcastle  Well the rest is history and I have been on this journey ever since. It’s not the easiest career paths by no means, but its a one I love and glad I am on.

Anyway here is that video I have been rabbiting on about. Enjoy!

5 thoughts on “THE BEGINNING

  • To this day I am held mesmerized by the beauty of these marvelous visions which were captured by Chris Bishop and by the music which streams to carry us so beautifully.

    Whenever I observe this video, I press my hand against my heart to steady it’s beat
    and feel the emotions arise, a lump forming in my throat each time I listen …

    The words came to me of the echoings of nature’s beauty, of it’s movement and flow.
    Drew’s wonderful voice now re-weaves them amidst the stones, into the waters flow,
    and through the waving grasses down to the valleys below.

    And to this day observing, listening …
    I stand yet, like a sheep, alone on a mountain top, feeling … I’ve come home.

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