My Little Dragonfly
The song for the times you’re trying to let go but also, deep down, still holding on
Most break-up songs go one of two ways: it’s the lonely song of missing someone who left, or it’s the emboldened song of a lover who did the leaving. I found some comfort in both of these types of songs in various moments over the past year. But I also found myself looking for a different kind of song.
Where are the songs for two people who love each-other but ultimately come to the realisation that they’re destined to go separate ways? For the relationship that feels equal part healing and breaking? The songs for the kind of relationship that destroys fear and sets free? The songs for the times you’re trying to let go but also, deep down, still holding on?
The melody and lyrics for this song’s chorus came to me in a moment while I was taking a long drive alone, where many of my song ideas arrive. I found myself drawn to this line: “stretch out your wings so wide, my little dragonfly”. I wondered if I’d just picked a word that sounded nice to sing, or maybe subconsciously borrowed a reference from Sufjan Stevens’ heart-breaking song “Fourth of July”.
When I got home I searched up the meaning of a Dragonfly in literature and in various cultures. It was perfect. In Japan, the Dragonfly is a seasonal symbol of Autumn - representing rebirth, courage, strength and happiness.
In other cultural and literary references, it represents the transient nature of life and love. Dragonflies go through a type of metamorphosis, like a butterfly, but they live short adult lives. They are fast, darting and flying in a way that feels like something that can’t be held onto.
I’ve been drawn to the images of flowers during the writing of this album: something beautiful and temporary. And in many ways, my album NIGHT is a reflection on fleeting beauty. The moments in life that feel wonderful and yet bittersweet because we know they won’t last forever. And this is the lane that Dragonfly finds itself in. It’s full of longing, grief, hope, fond memories and the kind of tension of a heart caught in the in-between.
The final chorus is a resolute release: “we had our place to hide, short-lived but full of life, so stretch out your wings so wide” but then in the penultimate line, the pang of tension: “can I see you one more time?”. I love finishing a song with a question. It feels like the final scene in the movie Inception with the spinning top. Did it fall? Did it keep going?? Was it real or a dream?
This Spring, I spent some time in Japan with some great friends and musical collaborators, bringing my song ideas to life in a wonderful studio just outside of Tokyo. This is the first song from that session that is seeing the light of day. There are plenty more to come. But it was really special to bring friends into a vulnerable and personal space and have them help me to craft the sonic space of the song.
Much of this album was made alone, in my Mother’s house, but this song was brought to life in community, in a shared space. This song truly wouldn’t be what it is without Caleb’s steady rhythms and subtle accents, Gideon’s piano tracks dancing between equal parts dark and shimmering, and Daniel’s aching guitar tones that sweep across the song and lift the final instrumental section into the perfect musical representation of a heart held in tension.
Dragonfly, along with another new single, Safe, is available for streaming today. I’ve released it alongside a lyric video featuring photography from the past 3 years. A way of looking back at memories, but also a collection of photos that play with light and shadow. I’ve written about that enough on my Substack so if you’ve read my previous posts you’ll know what the theme of light and shadow means to me!
Come see me on tour!
12 SEP: LONDON w/ Josh Garrels
16 SEP: BIRMINGHAM
17 SEP: EDINBURGH
21 SEP: MANCHESTER
23 SEP: BRISTOL
24 SEP: BRIGHTON
https://thegoodticket.tix.to/JOTA-UK-Tour






Dude, this was such a beautiful way to start my day. I feel sobered, grounded, and thankful. What a wonderful articulation of a hard goodbye.
Jonathan, I felt that I read your texts at the right time. Today I can clearly understand what you say and even agree with you.
Sometimes we need to experience certain situations at a certain time. However painful it may have been, it often comes to show something greater, something liberating. I realise that it was something like that for me, you know?
Today I can remember what I experienced and laugh. And realise that "ok, we really weren't meant to be together". This moment brings peace to the soul.
"With soft tears in silent eyes", I can gladly say goodbye!