Follow, follow the sun, and which way the wind blows, when this day is done. Breathe, breathe in the air. Set your intentions. Dream with care.

Do what you will while you're able, find what it is that you seek.

Most of my instruments are handmade.

Yidaki didgeridoo has been used in every part of Australian regional culture, all around the country. It's become a message stick for the survival of those people, for aboriginal people and aboriginal culture.

Surf culture and surfing for me are two completely different things. Surf culture has become very - it's a very commercial, competitive thing, fashionable. With all due respect to the 'Surfer Dude' movie, I think the 'Surfer Dude' movie reflects that, reflects what surfing's become, but I come from a place where the surf industry began.

My first instrument was my voice. I was always singing and writing melodies when I was a little kid. I just sort of taught myself whatever was around. If there were instruments around, I'd play them. I always liked the idea of not being shown but coming up with my own energetic connection to the instrument.

Playing live is everything. Sometimes being on the road is hard, and it's a lot of work, and tiring. From a musical point of view, you improve all the time. Not only that, but you learn how to deal with people and deal with energy in a live setting.

I feel my live shows are my music; everything blossoms from the live shows.

It's kind of like some kind of church for me, playing live. Each show, good people from different pockets of the world come and open their soul and let their spirits mingle and dance. That energy comes up through me, and all I do is channel it; it's like a circular motion and very sacred.

It's always great to visit Taranaki; it's beautiful, and I've caught some great waves there.

The music comes through me, and I let it come the way it comes, and it shapes itself. I just hold space for it. I don't intend to write it for a purpose, but it comes as it comes and am proud of the way it can support change because I believe strongly in what I sing about.

I do pinch myself, like when shows in non-English speaking countries are sold out, and people are singing my lyrics. I don't think I'll ever lose that; I'm always appreciative every day of the support I have as an artist, because I'm not a commercial artist.

When people connect to my work, it makes me feel great. A lot of that stuff is really deep, and when I play something and people feel what I feel, and use it in important situations in their lives, like at weddings or funerals, that's so powerful. It means I can connect with them on an important level.

The spirit of yidaki is like a guardian for the song and the journey of my music.

I was always drawn to the didgeridoo.

The best wisdom comes from the hardest struggle.

The music industry is not set up well at all, environmentally. But I sing about what I feel, and I'm very inspired by activists and friends that I get to connect with.

My music is roots music: it's a combination of growing up on the coast and mucking around with wood and wooden tones and sounds, salt, sand, fire, dogs, and heaps of brothers.

I love New Zealand and don't get to come there much. The south coast of Australia and New Zealand have a similar vibration, and a lot of the music comes from this kind of space.

Didgeridoo is a name that white people gave it when they came to Australia, from the sound that it makes. Its traditional name is yidaki.