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I have never been in the habit of consulting psychics. Still, one time — it must have been over thirty years ago — I set off with one of my girlfriends to find a woman we hoped could predict our futures. Before arriving I lightheartedly recounted the story of the elderly British lady who had stopped my mother as she was pushing me in my baby stroller along Kensington High Street in London. Apparently she had exclaimed that I was going to grow up to become famous and travel all over the world. My mother has always been a skeptic when it comes to anything concerning clairvoyance, but she often reminded me of this amusing incident as I flew off on my concert tours.

When my girlfriend and I arrived at the psychic’s home, the woman babbled on about future romances and marriage, all of which I immediately dismissed. She also insisted that my life was going to be dominated by words — that writing would become my passion. I was convinced that she must have misread her tarot cards because at that time my entire life was focused on classical music.

I admit that as a child in England I had discovered the magical effect of combining words and music; I used to entertain myself composing little ditties while on a homemade swing that my father had constructed under our pear tree. When I attended Adamsrill Primary School in England, I won first prize for “best story” in the “infants class” and still have the treasured little book signed by my schoolteacher. Later in my school days, some of my poems and stories were selected for the annual yearbooks published by the various schools I attended on both sides of the Atlantic.

As an adult, I wrote several articles for guitar magazines and also scribbled out a few poems and country-style songs during my peregrinations around the world. But it was when I started to pen my 1998 autobiography, In My Own Key: My Life in Love and Music, that I was reminded how much I loved the actual writing process and chronicling my life stories … and what amazing adventures I had to tell!

Others have enjoyed my tales, too. Robert Bateman kindly wrote of my first book, “Liona’s music, talent, and courage have woven a magic carpet that has floated through some of the most interesting corridors of our century.” If you have not done so already, I encourage you, dear readers, to pick up that first book in order to better understand all the experiences that have led me to this continuing journey that I am about to share with you.

You see, miraculously the psychic’s predictions about words have finally come true. For over a decade, besides composing melodies and performing with my guitar, I have become obsessed with capturing stories and emotions in song lyrics. Every word has to be just perfect. At times the process has driven me to distraction and kept me up at night. How right that woman was to somehow foresee that writing songs and playing with poetic words, as well as the guitar, would become my passion.

“No Remedy for Love” is the title of a rather sardonic love song I composed, after hearing far too many disillusioned contemporaries of mine share their often bitter experiences with love. But as you are about to discover in these pages, it happily does not reflect my personal conclusions on the subject. It is also the title of my 2017 album. The four words are a partial quotation of Henry David Thoreau, who wrote, “There is no remedy for love but to love more.” Taken in a different context, they also seemed a fitting title for this new autobiography, which picks up my story from 1998, when I was a world-renowned classical guitarist, happily married, and living a luxurious life based in Beverly Hills, California.

Although it might not be quite as adventure packed as my first, this book is perhaps more revealing of my thoughts and feelings, since it was written in a period when I was forced to look back and reflect upon my life and the choices that I made. It chronicles my inner struggles to reinvent myself as a singer and songwriter after a devastating setback with musician’s focal dystonia, a condition that affects hand dexterity; the effect of all of this on my relationship with my husband, and how it ended up being the catalyst for my divorce; my subsequent spiritual quests; my three duo partners; my search for love; and my whirlwind days of moving seven times on my own and living by myself in Miami, Connecticut, Santa Monica, Toronto, and Palm Beach.

As the famous Greek poet Cavafy once wrote:

“Pray that the road is long, full of adventure, full of knowledge, that the summer mornings are many.” I have certainly chosen a voyage full of adventure and full of discovery, and I have a feeling that my voyage is far from over. I have also learned that many blessings and opportunities to love and to be loved are there for the taking. Perhaps after reading my story of determination and reinvention, you might even conclude, as I did, that Thoreau’s words still ring true and that “There is no remedy for love but to love more.”

Liona