The best songs I write tend to come out all at once or in one or two sittings. Its kind of surreal when it’s all said and done — like my mind clears itself to make room for a feeling to get through. Those bad boys practically write themselves. The usual case though is, I have sort of a nagging emotion that I can’t put my finger on, and music has this way of really helping me tell myself the truth, so I hash and hash until the emotion or message finally aligns with my expression of it.

I tend to find the most inspiration through my existential habits, feelings I can’t shake, questions I need help asking but don’t necessarily need the answers to. Observing the endless colors of the human condition and then sort of stretching out those observations and commenting on the textures that lay therein. I so admire the storytelling of Anais Mitchel and Andy Shauf, Andrew Bird’s ability to create such full auditory landscapes, Ani Difranco’s assured boldness, The Fleet Foxes really showed me what modern folk could be, Lianne Lahavas’s soul-striking vocals, Bela Fleck who gifted me my admiration of the banjo. The list goes on, as the say.

I am preparing to start a Music Therapy program here in Florida in the coming months. I look brightly forward to learning to utilize music’s magical properties in a new way.

I know I’m not alone when I say that music is consistently reassuring and heartening. I am so flipping grateful and honored to be featured among such authentic artists and am very thankful for the opportunity to share my rendering of musical expression with a new audience. I’m nearly mostly excited to meet with others who harness music in a similar way and can’t wait to all gather, bear witness to and be inspired by each other’s stylistic approaches.