Living amongst the hinterland of Australia's Northern Rivers, Lisa creates dreamlike soundscapes inspired by nature, ritual and the beauty of impermanence. We spent time with her at home to talk about creativity, the gentle practices that anchor her days, and why making space - rather than filling it - is where inspiration truly begins.
Enjoy, our conversation with Lisa Kelly...


LL. Your music has a way of slowing people down and opening something within them. What rituals or moments help you return to that creative, heart-led place?
It has taken me a long time to realise that my most creative moments rarely come when I'm trying to force them. They come when I slow down enough to listen.
And slowing down enough to listen starts with taking the time to really sink into nature, often dunking into moving water, or making the most of sunlight glittering on the ocean when the clouds clear. I have spent a lot of my life chasing for things that have granted me stability, but to be creative I have learned that it is impossible to make art from the soul if I’m not taking good care of my nervous system. She’s a high maintenance ol’ girl.
LL. We captured you with our Chuncho Cacao Sun Discs, a cacao we see as both a wise teacher and a daily ritual. What role do simple rituals play in your creativity, or in the way you move through life?
Rituals are ancient reminders to become more present.
I love that delicious and wise Chuncho guide, watching the sunface melt into the cup. I think creativity asks us to notice the subtle magic in every day, which can be helpful when the demands of life can sometimes make the colours fall out of the world. Simple repeated, symbolic actions help me to slow down and do things with intention before rushing forwards, like making a special, warm drink to start the day, lighting candles before playing instruments, arranging fruit offerings in front of my ancestors and Buddha’s shrine just like my mum did when I was a kid or doing tarot every full moon.
It's less about productivity and more about arriving fully where I am. I think that's where the most honest creative work begins, or where you can find your magic if it got lost somewhere along the way.


LL. Your work feels deeply intuitive. When inspiration arrives, how do you honour it? Do you chase it, or do you create space for it to find you?
I've learned that inspiration needs spaciousness.
The more I fill every moment, the further it runs away from me. So sometimes I try to leave room in my days for swimming in the ocean, ticking tasks off with a gentle rhythm, sketching in the sun, lots of giggling and yapping with my favourite people and arriving at the harp without any expectation.
When an idea arrives, I treat it like a little gift and try to trust it. I'll record it straight away, even if it's just a tiny melody or a single sentence. Those small buds often bloom into entire songs or paintings.




LL. If you could offer our community one gentle reminder about living creatively, loving deeply, or staying connected to themselves, what would it be?
I think we're often rushing to relax or searching for something extraordinary, when so much beauty is already here. My hope is always that in the muck of life we can do our best to be gentle to ourselves and have a cackle as often as you can. Something good always comes from that!
It all begins first thing in the morning before I make music. I'll melt a Chuncho Cacao Sun Disc into oat milk and maple syrup, and sit outside with the birdsong for a few quiet moments while I write Morning Pages, before a big long stretch in the sun (if she's there). It's become an important ritual of arriving.
It reminds me that creativity doesn't come from rushing, but from letting go and being a good, reliable friend to your little inner artist child.


We love you, @lake__kelly <3
Images by @ahhtash