a life in sound: my musical journey.

Music has always been a huge part of my life. During my darkest moments, it was one of the few things that kept me going. My musical journey started when I was about eleven years old when a friend convinced me to join my middle school’s orchestra. They handed me a violin with viola strings, and for three years, I played in school concerts. It was the first time I ever felt like I was part of something.

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When I started high school, I joined the orchestra again. But this time, it felt different. I went from first violin to third, and I quickly realized it didn’t make me as happy as I thought it would. My part felt insignificant, like I wasn’t contributing anything. It became just another reminder that I was nothing.

Sophomore year, I transitioned to piano. I spent the next few years diving into music theory and eventually reached the point where I played piano with one of my high school choirs.

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Writing songs in my bedroom, I dreamed of turning them into something real. There was something about contemporary music that fascinated me—the small details most people don’t even notice. The bassline, the light synth, the percussion patterns, the backing vocals. I fell in love with the intricacies of sound. I know everyone and their grandmother makes music these days, but that never stopped me from wanting to create for myself.

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We live in a time where everything feels like it has to be monetized, but I don’t care if I succeed or fail—music reaches everyone. As Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once wrote, “Music is the universal language of mankind.”

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As I started learning how to produce, I realized there were skills I just couldn’t figure out on my own. I struggled to find anyone who truly wanted to collaborate, so I worked alone. And the worse my mental health got, the sooner my flame burned out.