The Empress
She’s the embodiment of care, of connection, of life’s gentle flourishing. But the longer I stayed with her energy, the more another truth surfaced: if she were to look at the world as it is now- fragmented, distant, starved of genuine closeness, she wouldn’t just be soft.
She would be furious.
Not destructive.
But heartbroken in that uniquely powerful way that only someone who loves deeply can be.
That realisation reshaped the song entirely. I wanted “The Empress” to hold both sides of her: the tender, open-armed love, and the fierce protective strength that refuses to let our humanity slip away. Her energy isn’t passive, it’s purposeful. It’s a reminder of what we owe each other, and how far we’ve drifted from the abundance she represents.
When figuring out the direction I wanted this song to take, I knew immediately that Liv Sangster would be the perfect fit for a collaboration: bringing power yet tenderness within her voice, and the depth and honesty she always pours into her performances.


A central image in the lyrics is the Red Tent: a reference rooted in ancient and pagan traditions, where women would gather during menstruation, childbirth, and rites of passage. These spaces were sacred: places of communal support, intuition, storytelling, healing, and shared wisdom. They symbolised the power of coming together, intimately and honestly, without judgement or distraction. The Red Tent wasn’t simply a physical shelter, it was a spiritual one, honouring the cycles of the body, the land, and the collective soul.
In the song, when I speak about our bodies being far from the red tent, I’m mourning how disconnected we’ve become from these kinds of soulful gatherings. Not just for women, but for everyone. We’ve lost spaces where we can sit together in truth, vulnerability, and community. Spaces where we’re witnessed, held, and reminded that we are not meant to navigate life alone. That loss echoes deeply through the modern world: where everything feels fast, surface-level, and increasingly isolating.
“The Empress” grew out of my own longing for that sense of meaningful connection, and the frustration that arises when it feels absent. The Empress energy made me confront both: the tenderness of wanting closeness, and the anger that comes from watching the world drift further from it. In many ways, the Red Tent became a symbol for everything we’re missing, a place we remember but no longer return to.
Musically and emotionally, I wanted the song to feel like a plea and a push. A gentle call back towards one another, and a firm reminder that connection is sacred. That its absence leaves a hollow space inside us. That we need each other: emotionally, spiritually, humanly- far more than we allow ourselves to admit.
For me, “The Empress” became a mirror of everything I felt but couldn’t quite articulate at first: my softness, my longing, my disappointment, and my hope. It’s a reminder that we’ve lost something vital, but also that we can choose to rebuild it. We can choose to return to the tent, to carve out spaces of real presence, deep listening, and shared humanity.
She calls us back to one another.
And this song is my way of echoing her plea.
“The Empress” came from one of the most personal places within this whole project. When I first sat with the Empress tarot card, I thought of everything she’s known for: warmth, nurture, softness, creativity, abundance.

'The Empress' Music Video
When it came to creating a music video for “The Empress”, dance felt like the most natural language to express everything the song holds. Movement has a way of embodying emotions that words can only gesture toward: it’s physical, instinctive, and ancient in its storytelling. That’s why I chose to work with a group of beautiful community dancers for this piece. Each one brought her own presence, her own history, her own power into the space. Together, they became living representations of the Empress’s dual nature: the softness she extends, and the elemental force she becomes when something sacred is ignored or forgotten.
Their grounded, intentional movement mirrored the song’s plea for reconnection. Dance has always been a form of communal ritual, a way for people to gather, express truth, and share energy, much like the spirit of the Red Tent itself. Through their bodies, the dancers carried the message of the Empress: that connection is not just an idea, but something felt, held, and enacted. Watching them move was like watching the Empress breathe, strength and tenderness woven into motion.