I was fortunate to have been raised by music-loving parents. Every night, my dad cooked dinner and as we sat down to eat, he had music playing through our home stereo system. Frank Sinatra, the Mamas and the Papas, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and B.B. King are just a few of the musicians I was exposed to as a small child. All of my most significant memories have a song tied to them.

Both of my parents play instruments, but humbly consider themselves “hobbyists.” We had a small Casio 61-key keyboard in our basement that my mom played often. Her favorite song to play was “Imagine” by John Lennon. She told me she played that song a lot while I was in the womb. Naturally, I became an obsessive Beatles fan - I knew every word to every song on every album. I learned to play the piano quite well, thanks to years of piano lessons and some pretty awesome teachers. I fell in love with the Romantic era composers: Chopin, Beethoven, Schumann, Liszt.

When I was thirteen, I begged my dad to pull his acoustic guitar out of the closet, where it had sat for years untouched and without strings. He obliged, and I have the most vivid memory of him walking up our basement stairs, guitar in hand, playing the intro to Led Zeppelin’s “Over the Hills and Far Away.” I had never seen my dad play guitar before, and I was immediately mesmerized by his ability to play this intricate tune. I was a habitual copycat of anything my father did - in my eyes, there was nothing he couldn’t do. So, I picked up the guitar, and slowly - and, as my brother would attest, painfully - picked up the guitar and began plucking away at something that, to me, sounded like my favorite classic rock songs. Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven,” Eric Clapton’s “Layla,” and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall” could be heard on repeat in my little bedroom at the end of the hall. At this time, I had no intent on becoming a professional musician or even a performer to any degree. My studies on piano and guitar continued, as vocals and bass guitar were eventually added into the mix. I pursued these purely out of personal interest and the desire to be like my musical idols.

Fast forward to a couple of years later, when, after some much-needed nudging from my guitar teacher, I played my first live gig. I played one song - “Purple Haze” by Jimi Hendrix - and I was frozen to the core on stage. I didn’t look at the audience, and I remember saying a mental ‘thank you’ to my hairdresser for giving me long bangs to hide my eyes behind. However, to my surprise, I didn’t get booed off stage; in fact, I actually realized that it wasn’t so bad to be up there in front of people. I had caught the performing “bug,” and seven years later, I still got it!

I have been in five or six bands and have played an average of 50 gigs a year since then. In the past year, I have traveled to 16 different US states and Canada to perform in front of audiences of 500-10,000 people. There were more than enough rehearsals, late nights, long sets, self-doubts, tears, criticisms, and mistakes in between…but the people who supported me in my journey, the people who were there to lift me up and remind me why I’m doing this, became paramount in my life. Which brings me to the question…why am I doing this? I am doing it because what brings me the greatest fulfillment is inspiring joy in others with my music. Joy, happiness, and love can take infinite forms, one of which is music. When you discover the music that vibrates with your soul just right, it feels like a bolt of lightning shooting throughout your body, and you are as infinite as the sky. Music soothes our minds by relieving the burdens that we cannot bear alone. I am the vessel for this experience. I can see it on a person’s face when this experience is taking place. I know the feeling because it happens to me, too.