She strums the first chord and a wispy strand of blond hair peeks over her shoulder and nestles on her arm.

Now, it's head back and the misty voice of Joni Mitchell drifts cleanly into the audience like the fragrance of a newly opened flower in spring sunshine.

Then the same voice comes ringing down and gives out all the qualities of soft fertile earth - a strong warm-coloured sound that catches you in rapture and transports you with this slim girl to her own unique land of song.

When she sings "icicle" the word is cold and round in her mouth, and when she sings "sun" it comes shining forth, tender, caressing, and full of joy.

Mellow sounds, sad sounds, happy sounds, high an low sounds, they're all part of Joni's world and she shares them with you freely and confidently - that's the way she is.

And when you meet her in person, the feeling that you've known her before is stronger, like the sudden happiness of seeing something familiar in a new light.

In her dressing room, Joni sits in what looks like a big old chair. When she gets up you see it's a pretty average size chair. She seems smaller here than on stage.

"I'm not a folksinger," she says "I'm afraid of the word."

When she talks her hands move quickly, moulding, shaping and weaving some invisible material.

"I've tried to interpret all the songs and their presentation and state them with one guitar and one voice. I'm a female tributary to that brand of music."

Joni stops weaving for a minute and fingers the long chained pendant she wears.

"At first my goals were modest. I kept them within easy sight, but I'm glad success didn't come too soon. My financial success will come this year.

She's mearly stating a fact.

Long blond hair gets her attention now. She chooses a strand and coils it around her finger.

"Lots of people in the business are financialy comfortable but artisically unfulfilled, like The Monkees."

Her chin lifts slightly.

"I'm going to be successful on my own terms," she says. and the way she says it tells you she's thought it out and it's no empty decision.She pours soft drinks and changes tack.

"A lot of my songs are character sketches - little slices of life. they should leave you with a feeling and a philosophy. And I'm not a protester. I call myself a poet-singer and my songs are simply human relations."

She writes the songs herself; so far 40 of them, and they portray the same honesty and sincerity that makes Joni Mitchell master of her music. Free-flowing songs stamped indelibly with the soul of an artist, and sent winging on the voice of a girl who says "Music is hungry for the individual."

She winds another strand of hair onto her finger.

"Usually I write my songs late at night - that's my quiet time - between midnight and five in the morning."

Joni's late night composing vigil can be heard on her new album "Song To A Seagull" and people like Harry Belafonte, Ian and Sylvia, Buffy Saint Marie, and Judy Collins are also singing her songs.

And this singer who likes "to do things for myself in my own way" even created the cover for her own album.

"I would like to learn the sitar," she smiles, "but right now I'm re-teaching myself piano. I played piano when I was about six or seven and hated it. Never got gold stars or anything."

She shakes her head in mock disapproval and it's time for the next set.

Stepping onto the stage she seems bigger again. Her voice reaches out and captures the audience.

"I awoke today to find the frost perched on the town,
It hovered in a frozen sky then gobbled summer down...
I get the urge for goin'... but I never seem to go."

The audience closes its eyes and prays hard she won't.