Lorde shares how death of her dog may delay the release of her next album

To my friends,

I’m writing this letter to you because it’s always been my intention to be transparent with you about my life and what happens to me. When we first met I would write little notes for you online, and they would form a big map that you would use to chart the constellations in my work. I realised a couple of years ago that I needed to rethink my relationship with posting random shit online all the time, so here we are, a little less in contact than we once were. You are no less beloved by me, or thought of. I think of you all often, in high points and in low ones, and the kindness you have shown me over the last 6 or 7 years (I’m going to be 23 next week, if you can believe it).

I’ve been working away on the new songs for most of this year in New Zealand. It’s been going pretty well, but something happened last month that I need to tell you about.

Some of you may know about Pearl, my dog. Pearl came into my life in 2018, and almost immediately changed everything for me. As anyone who has had the pleasure of raising a dog can understand, my life grew exponentially. Pearl brought an immeasurable amount of joy and purpose into my world. Love vibrated all around us. I felt my life growing and swelling in healthfulness, this orb of contentment glowing around me and Pearl, and our family. We spent almost all our time alone together, him asleep under the piano as I played, or on the porch together, or in the park, where he became a blurry speck of gold in the green, far away. After years on the road, I spent a lot of time at home, growing things, making food slowly, writing. I was receiving huge amounts of energy I can only describe as divine, and I was working hard to communicate it all to you by way of the album. I felt I had been given this great gift that I needed to share with you all.

Pearl had been ill in various forms his entire life. It was a long process of figuring out what this illness was, and after he dropped some weight over a few weeks in October, a kind specialist finally honed in on the problem. I was giving Pearl the medicines to get him back on track, and everything was looking good.

But one day we woke up and I knew, in that way mothers do, that he was sicker than we had realised, and that we were nearing a point where his body wasn’t going to be able to cope. I rushed him to the specialists. Pearl had two cardiac arrests about an hour apart, and after the second one, he died. I was holding him when he went, and I know he knew that I was there. But this loss has been indescribably painful, and a light that was turned on for me has gone out.

Pearl visits me in my dreams, and I am able to see or hold him for a brief time most nights. But the bright energy I was trying to communicate to you has gone, for now. He was instrumental to the discovery that was taking place. I felt he led me towards the ideas. And it’s going to take some time and recalibration, now that there’s no shepherd ahead of me, to see what the work is going to be.

So I’m asking for your patience, as 2020 comes around and you start to wonder where the next record is. I have lost my boy, and I need some time to see the good again, to finish making this for you. It won’t be the same work— as anyone who has felt loss can understand, there’s a door that opens that you step through, and everything is different on the other side. But when this great loss crystallises inside me, and my chest rebuilds around it, hopefully I’ll be able to finish up, and share it with you, and we’ll all grow together, as we always do.

Thankyou for your kindness, today and every day. I feel it.

Ella—–