Wonderland: Live in Concert was the moment the world in my head became a room full of people.
Until then, Wonderland had lived in headphones, studios, sketches, and imagination. This was the first time the album existed as a shared physical experience... music, lighting, storytelling, humour, visuals, atmosphere, and human connection woven into one continuous arc.
I’ve never been interested in simply “playing songs”. What I’m drawn to is experience design, shaping how something feels from the moment someone enters a space to the moment they leave it. The balloons suspended above the crowd, the colour, the band, the in-between stories, the costumes, the small details... they weren’t decoration. They were part of the narrative. The album wasn’t just performed, it was inhabited.
That night, I wasn’t only a musician. I was a host, a guide, a storyteller, a conductor of energy. The audience weren’t observers... they were part of the atmosphere that made the world real. Laughter, dancing, quiet moments, collective singing... the emotional shape of the evening mirrored the emotional shape of the album itself.
There’s a particular kind of clarity that comes when something you’ve carried alone becomes communal. Hearing people sing the songs back, watching strangers share joy, seeing the world respond... it shifted something in me. The work stopped being private proof and became shared experience.
This performance felt like a line being crossed. Not just “I’ve released an album”. But, I can build a world, and invite people into it.
