A work of movement: faith without certainty, direction without guarantee.
(Apple Music / Spotify / Bandcamp / local player)
Crossing is not the moment the ship leaves. It begins earlier — when the heart stops negotiating with the familiar. The sea becomes a grammar of distance: wind, repetition, and the long patience of waves.
This node holds the kind of hope that does not shout. It walks. It keeps a steady rhythm even when the horizon gives no answers.
In Isle of Not Alone, this is one of the foundational departures: a decision to move while still carrying what you love behind you.