I was hiking in the mountains with a group of good friends. A contemplative lull had fallen upon the group and the conversation had petered out. After a couple minutes of walking silently, I realized that two lyrical sentences were running through my head over and over again. Before I knew it, whole paragraphs were streaming out of my brain into a song. It felt like I had accidentally happened upon a gust of inspiration that was threatening to move along if I did not hold on to it. I dropped my pack and frantically tried to capture the words in pen. In a matter of minutes the song was complete. I have not touched or edited those words since this moment of inspiration. Yet it was not until many times playing it upon returning to civilization that I realized the depth of what that song represented to me.

This is why I write music. It lets my life have a dimension of chaos that is beyond my comprehension. It lets me access a side of my subconscious that, through diligence and creative effort, I can release into the world as music.

I write music because I am captivated by the process of inspiration.

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I perform music because I love watching people feel my words in their heart.