Los Angeles resident and County native Natasha Pasternak released her new album WAVES late last month. It is a 25-minute uninterrupted sonic field, exploring the nonlinear rhythm of grief.

The daughter of beloved County playwright, historian and documentarian Suzanne Pasternak, Natasha told the Gazette that WAVES, which was supported by an Orange County School of the Arts Artist Fellowship, emerged from the emotions that followed the passing of her parents. It moves mourning from the darkness out into the light of a communal conversation.

A delayed discovery sparked the project, one with a PEC connection: years after Suzanne’s mother, Natasha’s grandmother, gave her a copy of Gord Downie’s Introduce Yerself, she finally found the strength to listen to the former County resident’s sixth solo album, released 10 days after his death.

While she had avoided the record, fearing an onslaught of fresh grief after losing her father, returning to it years later provided a vital perspective. The bravery of Mr. Downie as he faced his absolute truth offered a compass for a solo concept album.

“When you have the experience of losing someone, a part of you changes forever. You’ll never be the same or see the world in the same light. It changes you fundamentally as a human. It’s such a personal experience, but it’s also universal, and it connects all of us in this way that I don’t think we talk about enough.” 

Ms. Pastarnak calls grief the receipt left by love. “I wanted to make a piece of art that could heal people, and also, in the process of that healing, heal my parents and heal myself through this journey that everyone takes in their lives.”

Commercially, Natasha goes by the moniker NJ, a nod both to her middle name, Jasmine, and to Suzanne’s roots in the Garden State. She grew up in front of County audiences. As a young performer, she developed musically and artistically at Mount Tabor and other stages.

The title track comes from her experience of caring for Suzanne over her lengthy battle with stage four heart disease. Suzanne overcame a handful of heart attacks, complete heart failure, a triple bypass, a pacemaker and 11 stents in her arteries. She suffered severe PTSD from all the surgeries — and continued to make art and take on all sorts of projects. Just hours before her death, she was  writing ideas for a documentary on the County’s historic commercial fishing industry.

“She was an absolute warrior. And behind someone carrying that much is a caretaker. My being a caretaker started when I was 27 and stretched across 15 difficult and layered years. By the time she passed, my mental health had been to hell and back; once it was over it all came crashing to the surface. I was drowning in my own trauma of seeing my best friend fight for her life over and over again.” 

“WAVES is dedicated to the caretakers, to the loved ones left behind, to anyone that has struggled with mental health.”

“And, of course, my incredibly brave and loving mom,” she adds.

Lovers of Suzanne’s work will need a tissue when her daughter covers “Borderlands,” from Suzanne’s first album, Solo Flight: Coming in Under the Radar.

“I wanted to cover “Borderlands” because mom wrote it about me as a little girl, about being away from me and having to make hard choices in her life, but always coming back to me, to be my mom. It’s a really beautiful full-circle moment to put that in my album as a dedication to her, but also to our relationship and the cycle of life and our love.” 

Suzanne’s legacy will continue through Natasha’s work as well as through the work of Miss Emily and others who found support and love under Suzanne’s umbrella. 

“I’ll always have my mom here in a way, living artifacts of her brilliance and heart.”

Meanwhile, grief has a life of its own. “If you’re angry at the person you lost, angry at the world around you, numb, or you just don’t care, all of that is a part of this. And that’s why it’s so complex, and that’s why it’s so hard to talk about, because it’s personal but it’s universal — and mostly confusing,” she said.

“I wanted to create art that encapsulated that. But also, it’s just an experience. I’m not trying to tell you how to fix it. I’m not saying it’s going to get better. I’m just making a statement about the feeling of losing someone you love. And also, if you haven’t experienced that yet, you’ll still be able to sit down and listen to a beautiful piece of music and not be frightened by it.

“These feelings of grief are just huge amounts of love with nowhere to go.”