Zane was born under auspicious stars that foretold ancestors would remark on a youngling’s slinky fingerlings clearly made for musical string things and a knack (which he would stubbornly not admit to himself for so very many moons) for multifarious and peculiar roads to creative realisation. 

The Indwelling Spirit of the World once advised him:  “Music is ineffable; breathe, tense and then release, because art is sonic symphonic tonic to tune our bodies, minds, and souls.”  “I appreciate that,” Zane said. 

The years of study wandered by in the passing dim and bright, and the stars spun ‘round and ‘round each turning of the night.  Zane resolved to go out in the World seeking creative wisdom and knowledge by way of meetings with remarkable teachings through astonishing people, places, and things, and Zane shared music across the Sea and at Home. He accumulated sundry aspects of the beginnings of a well-rounded education in Life and so began to develop his own talismans, tools, and treatises for combining colour, texture, tone, mood, and propulsive pulsation. 

The myriad musical musings materialised between the finger flesh and ears as the years spiralled on and were met with a habit of rendering dreaming images on paper, canvas, wood and clay as mythopoeia in motion: a winter garden of silence frozen. 

“I need to enhance my strings”, said Zane once or twice, and thus the cunning craft of fervent sculpting with the bones of trees and other gifts of the Earth Indweller forged a connection of great strength to the occult practice of making low-tech sound machines. 

Zane currently resides in the drive time of the mist-lined forests of Cascadia with his partner and as many books, instruments, and art supplies as possible.