Somewhere between the signal and the silence.

I make music in the hours around everything else — after work, before the house wakes up, whenever a song insists on being written down.

I moved to Nashville in 2017 chasing something I couldn't fully name yet, and I'm still chasing it. What I write sits somewhere between alternative and indie folk, with a pull toward the atmospheric — the instrumental stretch of a song that doesn't explain itself, the space around a voice that says as much as the voice does.

I produce everything myself, starting from voice memos that usually sound nothing like what they become. It's slow. It's supposed to be. I'd rather spend a year on something true than a month on something easy.

Most of what I write comes back to the same handful of things: breaking patterns that stopped serving me, remembering who I was before I learned to perform being fine, and trying to look at my own life with something closer to wonder than judgment. I don't have it figured out. I'm not sure the songs are supposed to.