My music background is diverse. I started in musical theatre at 10, after I was unable to shake a nasty speech impediment (I couldn't say the letter "r", truly quite traumatic when you're parents name you VictoRia). I loved singing, but unfortunately I had two left feet and musical theatre had a lot of "off seasons". My older sister suggested a private sector choir that her high school teacher conducted, one which she was constantly recruiting for. I was hesitant, choir seemed nerdy and it wasn't really my cup of tea. But I joined because I wanted to sing and my parents were starting to give up on my dreams of ever winning a Tony - seriously, I can't dance.
If I'm being honest, I didn't like choir at first. It was a level of discipline that musical theatre didn't have. I felt uncomfortable and out of place. I was a terrible sight reader (for people who don't sing, sight reading is exactly what you think it is, being given music and a starting note and just singing along) and struggled through what my peers found simple. But I dragged my feet through a full season.
That fall I went to high school and my conductor became my vocal teacher. I had to join another choir in order to keep singing in high school, and it was a program my older sister swore by. A lot of the faces I knew, friends of my sister's, friends from choir, and peers in my own grade.
Throughout this time, I stuck with the private sector choir I had replaced my musical theatre career with. I stuck with it because I made friends, I found a group of girls who I identified with. A little bit quirky, a little bit loud and I loved them for it, and they loved me. I found solace sitting in a church room every Monday night for hours, passing notes we wrote on our music, labouring as a group over intervals or vowels until our diaphragms were sore.
And my school choir. These people became my family. I spent an inordinate amount of time in choir at school. In the vocal room, practice rooms, and auditorium (singing in stairwells during exam session and the strings and bands students took all the practice rooms). The people in that choir I owe so much to, for getting me through incredibly hard times. They bore the brunt of my worst days and I am so grateful for them.
I joined choir to find an outlet and stayed because I fell in love with the people. Choir is the "team sport" of singing. You have your coach - your conductor, your captain - your section leader, and your teammates. Throughout my high school career I traveled to two different countries in choirs, sang in six different choirs, became a teaching assistant, a section leader, but most importantly, I made friends that I still tell everything to, because things aren't important if you're not with people you love. Granted, I still sight sing like a tone deaf cat, I got way more out of my experience in choir than anyone can ever teach me.
So go out their friends and find your team, because I found mine and it was fucking awesome.
From me, with love, to you,
"Lately, I've been stepping over things he's trying to build "
As I've talked about quite a bit on this website of mine, I was in a serious long-term relationship at one point. But we broke up and there was this big space in my life where he used to be, and frankly I was desperate to fill it with another human. I had spent nearly two years with a person that was my person, and I lacked that. I lacked the attention that comes with having a boyfriend, I lacked the feeling of being cared for. It's not that I wanted a relationship, but I wanted aspects of a relationship that my single life was missing.
A month or two into being single, I started hanging out with a friend of mine quite regularly, we talked everyday, saw each other all the time and he began to fill the space that had been left empty.
"I just want to be loved, I drag him 'round again"
However, I spent time with him for the wrong reasons entirely. A thing that I may have forgotten to mention is that I knew very well that my friend had feelings for me. He cared about me so fully, and I saw him as a friend. But I continued to see him. I continued to text him and talk to him, tell him about my day and let him comfort me when I was stressed. I knew I was being selfish, but I also depended on this micro-relationship I had built.
"Somehow, I feel lonelier when I'm with him"
That part of my life was so confusing. Everyday was filled with new feelings. I felt guilty for acting the way I was, for being selfish with a person I knew was so incredibly kind. I knew how he felt, and I knew how I felt. I would chicken out on plans that felt to commitment-y because I wanted a relationship without a relationship.
At the same time, I was so empty. I didn't understand why I kept doing this, why I didn't just go out and find someone I actually wanted to be with. I had this thing that was almost right, but it just kept reminding me that I didn't have the real thing. I had this mirage, and it was so delicate; I knew it was a matter of time before it disappeared.
And frankly, there were days when I liked him. When I almost went through with the whole charade because I genuinely wanted to.
"I feel wrong at the end of the day"
So that's what this song is about. It doesn't paint me in the most flattering light, but I stand by the way I felt and the honest story it tells.
I'm looking into sharing new music soon, keeping with my trend of 2019. Thank you so much for all the positive feedback my new stuff has received. I appreciate you guys so much.
From me, with love, to you,
I thought I’d do something different and engage in a little story time. Last weekend I met a very cute guy (let’s call him Guy for the sake of anonymity) at a bar after playing a show. And me, being human and attracted to cute guys decided I wanted to hang out with Guy. He was cute, and from out of town so if me and my awkwardness crashed and burned, then I really didn’t lose anything did I?
So, here’s where my night takes off. My friend and I are at the bar I played at and after my show Guy and I start making conversation. He proposed we move to bar #2. I’m a little hesitant because I have my guitar, but he says it will be really fun and he really thinks I should come. So, again, me being a girl, gets persuaded by Guy and the proposition of spending an evening with someone I find attractive. I cannot be blamed for my actions as of yet.
So, my friend, Guy and his friends, and myself relocated to bar #2, where things become interesting (please remember my life is remarkably vanilla so “interesting” comes with a little asterisk). I check my guitar in coat check, which if you know me is a lot of commitment because I don’t really let anyone touch my guitar, and spend some time getting to know this boy who I have committed my evening to.
I would also like to interject a new piece of information that is relevant to the telling of this story: I don’t enjoy when boys buy me drinks. I know this is weird and there are at least 20 girls reading this thinking “what the fuck, why do you go to bars?”. It started about a year ago when I realised that my guy friends were paying for my drinks. This wasn’t really fair, we are all in university, working minimum wage jobs. My friends and I are equals yet somehow, they got caught paying all the tabs because they have a Y chromosome. So, I pay for my own drinks 9/10 times. If I’m out with my friends and someone buys a round of drinks, I’m not going to be pretentious and make a big deal, but consistently (especially if I’m out with guy friends) I make an effort to pay for my own booze, or at least buy the next round.
That being said, Guy offered to buy my drinks and I didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate about my drink-buying policy with a stranger at a bar that I was trying to flirt with. I’m not a great flirt, but I know philosophical debates at bars are a pretty big “no”. So, I let Guy buy my drinks (I did offer, and offer, but he said no).
Things are going very well with me and Guy. Guy is being very touchy, so I be very touchy back. Guy says something flirty, so I do my best to muster up something witty in return. I’m really putting my best foot forward here. Until Guy brings up the conversation that ends the whole night:
Guy: So, I really liked your set
Me: Thank you
Guy: You write all your own songs?
Me: Yeah, I really like it
Guy: Can you write a song about me?
Me: Haha, what?
Guy: C’mon you wrote songs about other guys, what did they have to do sleep with you?
Me: I’m sorry, what?
Guy: Haha, it’s no big deal. I want a song, what do I need to do, sleep with you?
And here my friends, is where I take a pause from story time to let everyone know something. If you feel the need to offer sex in EXCHANGE for something, you have crossed a line. Just in case you needed to know where the line in the sand is, it’s right there.
From me, with love, to you,
P.S. To finish my story, I left briefly after. Guy asked me to stay using the ever-so flattering line “Oh what are you doing? I’m just an asshole when I’m drunk.” On the off chance he ever gets a song, which let’s be honest he got a blog post he isn’t special enough to get two things, I really don’t think it’s going to be the kind of song he wanted. Sucks to suck.
"I get caught up in the wind and I start to drift"
I floundered on writing this a little bit, the song is really personal, and sharing it's meaning was something I found kind of stressful. But I also wanted to explain it because a) it's a song I'm really proud of and b) I love the meaning behind songs just as much, if not more, than just the song so I figured there are a couple people out their who shared this feeling with me.
I wrote Steady last fall. It had been a year since I had been in a serious relationship and I had spent the last year trying to ground myself. My previous relationship had been passionate and all-consuming, meaning the burn out was overwhelming. And in the absence of this relationship I had filled my life with things that I hadn't otherwise been able to: music, philanthropy, school all took front seats in my life for the first time in a while.
"I keep locked on the shore with nothing to look for"
And all these big changes meant big highs as well as big lows. And this place where someone used to be, where someone used to bear the weight of my life, was empty. And I was pushing through on my own. While I'm grateful for the role my friends and family took in filling this space, there is something unique about having one person that is yours.
So while I was happy being single and I had built this life I was so proud to be living, I started reaching the point in which I was ready to start seeing people again. In the fantastic words of Ed Sheeran "Success is nothing if you have no one there left to share it with". So I decided to throw my hat back in the ring. I started flirting with guys again, I went on Bumble and (oh dear God) Tinder, just to see what was out there.
"The way this heart moves gets the best of me"
And it wasn't long before I developed a bit of a crush. But that's the thing about crushes, they bubble up and fizzle out, leaving you kind of hollow. And it happened again and again. The bubble and fizzle. Nothing of significance, just more frustrating than anything. I was frustrated that I felt like I was ready, but nobody else was. I was frustrated that I couldn't just settle on one person. I was frustrated that I felt like I was liking people for the sake of liking people and not because I knew anything would come of these crushes.
Steady was a way to express the fact that while nothing of any true substance had occurred, I was still getting tousled around. I was still trying to find my bearings and genuinely was unable to do so.
"I get caught up in you, the things that you do"
So that's what Steady is about. Just being in this void when it comes to your love-life. Where nothing happens, but you still feel like you're putting in all this energy. That feeling where you are begging yourself to find one person and settle down, but you can't. Where you're so unsure about what you want out of a relationship, you can't possibly know the right kind of people to look for.
So no, either people I know or listeners, trying to determine who Steady is about, I'm sorry to disappoint. It's about a feeling, one I hope you can relate to.
"The way this heart moves gets the best of me"
If you want to hear me play this as well as other new music, Friday March 1st I will be at the Roxy at 7:30pm!
From me, with love, to you,
I get this question a lot:
How do you write music?
I understand the need to know something you don't know. We're innately curious so this question makes a lot of sense. I get the same feeling when I see someone dance, or study economics, or walk and drink water at the same time. So I'm sharing my advice for writing music. Giving up my trade secrets.
Let's start with the basics. Learn some music theory, it makes your life infinitely easier. You understand how chords and notes fit together, you have a better understanding of how to manipulate music to make it sound even slightly different from the four chord progression that makes up every pop song. (This rule has changed slightly over time as rap and hip-hop become more mainstream, but similar rules apply to that genre).
Learn an instrument. With technology nowadays this isn't a necessary step, but having an instrument to fiddle around on is worth your time. That's why I learned to play guitar, to write music. Cheap guitars are all over the place and YouTube makes learning to play guitar too easy. You can really find anything on YouTube, from unclogging a toilet to Twitch streamers.
And this is where things get complicated. There is no formula for writing music. Some of my songs I've written in 15 minutes. I have a feeling or an idea that I want to express and within minutes I've got it expressed in the way it's in my head, this happened with Cheers. I had this raw, unfiltered feeling that I needed to explain to myself, and I feel like that comes across in the song. I didn't want Cheers to be put together and proper. That wouldn't have been authentic to the experience it was about.
On the other hand, some of my songs are long crafted metaphors. They get written and re-written as time goes on. Sometimes I haven't said things in the way I want to say, sometimes the story changes and I need to rewrite what happened. (This doesn't happen that often though, usually I'll write a new song, because I don't always feel comfortable changing songs because I feel like I need to honour the feelings I had at that time.) Some songs, like Crows, take more time to think about. I need to make the pieces fit, and tell the story in a way that honours the people the story is about. Am I Safe Here? went through multiple rewrites before I was happy with the final product. Moreover, sometimes I'll write a song, come back to it in a few months and take a verse or a chorus from that song, scrap the rest and write a new song.
And what about the music you ask? While sometimes the guitar comes first, sometimes the words come first. Sometimes I'm in the shower and I come up with a chorus and before I know, I soaking wet in my towel, sitting on my bed with my guitar and writing down a song in scrawling handwriting. There is no technique to how I put it together, unfortunately that trade secret is no secret.
Finally, like anything else, practice. I write lots of music that is purely therapeutic that nobody should ever hear. I write lots of music that just isn't that great. The first song I ever remember writing was when I was 8 years old. I didn't understand that structure of songs so it was just more like a tangential paragraph than a song. I've been writing and refining for years. Writing is a skill, same with singing, playing guitar, and anything else in this world.
If you want to start writing music, just rip off the band-aid and go for it. If you want to do it just for you, to share with other people. I write music because I need to get things off my mind, it just happens that other people seem to enjoy the things I write, so I share it with them. Hope this was a helpful insight into my creative process, and I hope you are all having a good reading break (for my university friends, the rest of you...well have doing whatever you're doing).
From me, with love, to you,
P.S. If you haven't had a chance to check out my new song yet, Steady, I've linked to it down below. Also, I got Twitter so you all can hear my random day to day thoughts.
So love birds, another Valentine's Day is upon us.
And if we're being honest, I wasn't really sure where I was going with this post when I started it. I wanted to comment on this love-fest of a holiday, but the "I hate Valentine's Day attitude" and "hallmark holiday" shtick have been written into the ground. Moreover, when single people say that they're happy being single, it never sounds genuine. Like if I say "oh I'm actually really happy right now being on my own" 9/10 people picture me with a pint of Ben and Jerry's, glass of red wine and a cat. Well WRONG, I don't have a cat...and now I'm really craving Ben and Jerry's.
Valentine's Day is so played out, there is nothing new I can say about it. There is no epiphany I can have that you will not find somewhere else on the internet. Is it because I'm not that intelligent? Possibly. Is it because I've had a fever for four days and my body constitution is 70% chicken noodle soup? More likely. But here we go, I'm talking about love anyways. Because it's February 14th and I'm too committed to this to back out now (**cracks knuckles**).
So courtesy of my friends and family, I'm going to share the worst relationship advice I have ever received. I will not call them out because I am not a bitch, but they know who they are.
1) "He's doing [insert action] because he likes you"
I hear this said to me and others ALL THE DAMN TIME. This is a lie that is well illustrated in He's Just Not That Into You. It's unfair to assume that everything a guy does is to get in your pants. Maybe he paid for your coffee because you looked like a tired piece of trash, not because he thinks your cute. Maybe he asked you to come to the party because he thought you'd bring your sister, the girl he is actually into (Side note: If you think that's too specific to be a made up example, you're right. This has actually happened to me). Maybe he booty-called you because he's drunk... sorry let me correct myself: he definitely booty-called you because he's drunk. My point is there is a list of 300 reasons someone might do something, only 1 of which being "he likes you". Do the math.
2) "He texted you 20 minutes later, so you have to wait at least 10 minutes"
Who has the time in their life to do this kind of math every time you want to send a text to a guy. And serious question: do guys do this shit too? Is it just girls? Dear God I hope so. If I see a text and don't respond right away, I am nearly guaranteed never responding to that text. This has led to my mom calling me asking "why haven't you responded to my text" at least 7 times in 2019. He sent you a text because he wants you to respond, so respond. I have a lot of thoughts on "texting etiquette" and I'm not going to get into it but basically, respond when you want to respond. I doubt he's looking at the time stamps.
And the worst advice I have received, regarding boys, in my 20 years on this earth *drum roll*:
3) "Just wait for him to make a move"
Oh, surprise surprise, you have no good answer. Girls complain about being single but won't ask out the boys that they have crushes on I DON'T UNDERSTAND. It's so unfair to expect guys to make the first move but be too afraid to do it yourself. Also, isn't it better to just rip the band-aid off, ask and get your answer? Do you know how much time I would have saved in my life if I stopped waiting around for guys and just got my answers when I wanted them? Ladies, just ask your man out, we do it on Bumble, do it in real life.
So that's the worst advice I've ever received. And maybe in certain situations and for certain people that advice is actually very necessary. As well, I'm not saying that there isn't a game that needs to be played when it comes to flirting and getting involved with people, but there is also something to be said about being honest with yourself and others about what you want.
So Happy Valentine's Day friends. I hope you get out of today what you want, a bubble bath, a nice dinner, a movie night or just getting off your feet for a couple hours before the next day begins. As for me? I'll be riding out the last of my bronchitis (maybe I'll tell that story later), at home, in bed, rewatching The Office. And remember: chocolate goes on sale tomorrow.
From me, with love, to you,
I recognize that nothing I say here will be new. But there are few unique insights into university student life so I will do my best (at least) to make this interesting.
You know when you're little? And you want to carry 30 things, but you have these tiny hands, and LORD knows you're not taking more than one trip (we're just prepping for when we have to take the groceries in from the car). So what do you do? You make a pocket out of your shirt and start placing all your toys in there. You're a damn genius right? RIGHT?! Wrong. Your mom is upset that your shirt is all stretched out, and as you're using one hand to hold up your shirt pocket, your second hand is trying to fit everything in there. And when you bend down to pick something up you drop one stuffed toy or doll or action figure. That's just not happening. This is university.
Every university student is a toddler trying to carry everything in their shirt. Or at least it feels like it sometimes. We keep piling things on. It starts with classes. Right now I'm taking 5. For three years now I've taken 5 or 6 classes every term which is a pretty dense course load (sit down engineering students, we get it). So five classes, and in sciences that means 10 midterms. If a term is only 13 weeks and count three at the beginning and three at the end that should be "midterm empty", that's about seven weeks for all 10 midterms. Not including assignments, papers or other wonderful bullshit that may rear its head throughout the term.
Of course, I want to blow off some steam after a long day of classes, so I start going to bars. Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays - not all three every week, I have a liver - are bar nights. I grab a group of friends and shed some sorrows with a gin and tonic, the drink of champions. But here is problem #2: bars are expensive (all of Vancouver is expensive, that's its own problem). Even if it's just coffee with your friends, Starbucks is eating my money left, right and centre.
So it's time for me to get a job to replace the money I'm spending doing fun things. I try to pick up as many shifts as possible, but I'm still supposed to be studying because it's my friend's birthday on Friday and I have two midterms next week and a paper due Friday afternoon so I haven't got the chance to study yet.
All of this means you spend a lot of time sitting down, sitting at work, sitting in class and sitting in the library. So you try to get up to Whistler maybe once in a while, go for a walk there, and a yoga class here. Just to make sure you don't have a heart palpitation at 24 and make it to graduation. (Let's be honest, this is usually last priority).
And then you have things that you just like to do. I'm in a sorority, so we have chapter meeting and mandatory events. It's not that big a hassle, because I get to hang out with my friends. But it still steals a little bit of time out of my day.
So now, along with eating, sleeping and fitting in a shower now and again, I'm studying, being social, working, attempting to work out and going to sorority stuff. But I'm also writing music, booking shows and managing social media (and writing this post). So what do I do? I make a shirt pocket, a quick fix. I cut back on sleep this week. But when I empty my shirt out, it's stretched out and looks pretty garbage. And as I was stacking things up in my shirt I didn't realize that I dropped something trying to pick something up (I dropped "exercise", it's always exercise).
Being in university is 4 years of "quick-fixes". Not always intelligent or helpful at all. We all try to fit all this stuff into our life-"shirt pocket". Stacking the resume, making the best of being young, but my lord we need more than 24hrs in a day. And this is just my schedule. I have friends who have taken on more than I have or reallocated space in their lives in ways that I've chosen not to. Take 3 classes and get a 2nd job. Don't be social and get better grades, but feel like garbage because you're locked in a library.
Being a university student is super fun, but it's also super stressful. So if you have a university student in your life, give them a hug. Grab them a coffee (they need it). Tell them that they're doing well. They could stand to hear it every once in a while.
From me, with love, to you,
I would like to begin with one thing:
I'm not sharing this post for pity, for sympathy, for any of the above. I don't like those things. I'm sharing this, my story, in hope that anyone will read this and find strength in it. Find the will to reach out and get the help they need.
My story begins a long time ago. I've been in and out of war with my mental health, but I'm going to talk about my first year of university. I moved across the country when I was 17 to attend the University of British Columbia, leaving my friends, family and boyfriend (of the time) on the east coast. And it was hell on earth.
I was consumed with the people I left behind, regretting my decision day in and day out. All this resentment made me inhospitable and a nightmare to make friends with. So now I'm out west, by myself, with no friends. No one to check in on me if I didn't leave my dorm room, no one to ask me if I was okay, no one to check if I was eating. So I simply fell apart.
By the middle of my first term of first year I couldn't attend classes, if I did I had to sit in a single spot in the lecture hall and should that seat be taken I had to go home to my dorm because I could feel the panic setting in. Should a class be cancelled or an plan changed I was so anxious, I wasn't able to do anything for the rest of the day. I walked out of exams halfway through because I couldn't read all the words. And at Christmas I had zero intention of going back to school. I was out for the count.
But I went back, back to the rain and the studying and the long hours. Back to lying awake at night, running through all the scenarios of what could go wrong, what had gone wrong and what will go wrong. I would call my boyfriend screaming bloody murder, because the anxiety caused so much pain in my chest I thought I was dying.
I had to return to Toronto for half a week in my second term. Upon going home I was diagnosed with a series of illnesses, one of which being social anxiety disorder. Social anxiety means a variety of things. Always being that tad bit quirky and awkward hasn't helped either. It means every relationship I have, romantic, platonic, passing or lasting, is a struggle. I ruminate on tiny details; if I speak and someone laughs in the back of the room I know it's about me. If I'm in a crowded place I feel like someone is going to hurt me. Social anxiety leads to a fear and paranoia of social situations. I live with social anxiety disorder.
But I was diagnosed. Getting diagnosed was my first step out of the hole. All at once everything and nothing changed. Everything made sense. For so long I felt so broken, with no way to describe, validate or get help for the way I was feeling. But my diagnosis helped me to understand what was going on, and gave those around me a way to understand what I was going through.
But what about now you ask? What do I look like now? I still live with it. Having it go away completely is possible, not guaranteed, and recurrent episodes are things I keep my eye out for. But I live with it.
And that's what I want to emphasize. I live with it. I take steps in my day to day life to manage panic attacks and anxiety episodes. Baking cookies, playing guitar, and going for walks all keep me grounded in the whirl wind that is my mental health. I live in a world where I am open to share my story, where I am supported by my loved ones and celebrated for my strengths. I know my limits, I'm proactive about my mental health and I know when I can't fight the beast. But I live with it, not against it, not in spite of it.
I'm sharing my story in hope that one single person will see this and know that the "light" that everyone talks about, "standing in the sun", "the end of the tunnel", "cloud nine" all that cheesy bullshit is true. All the myths about getting stronger and learning more about yourself: IT'S TRUE. I have watched so many around me fall in the war against mental health and their losses are weights we carry with us. But mental health is a fight you can win. A relapse is just a relapse, a rough day is just a rough day. I'm not saying that everyday with mental health is hard, but not every day is easy.
So if you're reading this, please, reach out. Even if to a stranger. I did and it changed everything. Reach out to a professional, a support group, a superior, a family member or a friend. If you see someone struggling reach out for them. Remember that you are not your mental health. You live alongside it, but in no way does it define you. You are not broken, you are not wrong, you are just lost. Find the things that make you happy and do them! Run in the rain and walk on the beach and listen to music so loud you feel the walls shake. Do all the horribly movie-moment things that make you smile. Do them for the people who can't and do them for yourselves.
I want to thank everyone who read this post, everyone who supports me on a day to day basis. I want to thank my mama for being a rock. My dad for taking this on with an open mind. My sisters for being the kind of amazing I'm not even able to verbalize. My best friend for teaching me what it's like to lose and love and survive the things that break us.
I've linked resources below for support for a variety of causes. If you found solace in this please share it with your friends or post about your story. Love yourself, love others and be happy.
From me, with love, to you,
So what's the game plan for the next little bit? Good question!
I'm so excited to be getting back to shows for the next couple weeks. I'll be back, out and about, doing what I love most. So let's get started:
Thursday January 24th - I'll be at The Roxy Cabaret for their acoustic night. I'll be playing alongside some amazing artists, Sincerely Craig and Lolai. I'll be on at 8:30pm and I'll be playing the music that I've been teasing for the last little bit.
Thursday February 7th - I'll be at the Railway. I don't have an exact time for this yet, because it's still a couple weeks out. I will (again) be playing with some amazing artists: Chris Sol, Emma Alves and Ria Jade.
So if you're interested in seeing me live those are the two places to catch me in the next little bit!
From me, with love, to you,
OKAY, OKAY, OKAY, OKAY, SOOOOOOOOOOO....
Has anyone seen my new Instagram post? Which post you ask? This post ^^
So, like I said, I'm releasing new music. But I've been getting a couple questions about why and how I'm doing it so I thought I'd go into a bit more depth about what's going on.
When I released The Blue Book Project, it was supposed to be more of a "last hurrah" rather than a stepping stone to where I am now. I truly intended it to be the last thing I did in music before I took up a career sitting in a lab looking at neurons. But, as we all know, that didn't happen. I continued with music because it makes me happy; happy in a way that academics can't. I write, play and sing because I'm over the moon about it.
Finishing The Blue Book Project was one of the most amazing things that happened to me, but it also took everything I have. I wrote and produced the whole thing as well as played a ton of the instrumental and - frankly - invested a lot of money in it. I originally had thought about releasing a new EP over the summer but I wasn't interested on taking on this project solo. I've learned that I'm not a great producer and I needed someone who saw my passion and my ideas and executed them. But after searching and reaching out I couldn't find a producer that I was in love with...well I couldn't find a producer that I'm in love with that I would be able to afford.
I'm still in school. I'm still studying and writing exams and pulling all-nighters trying merely to pass. I'm still eating plain pasta for dinner at least once a week because I didn't have time to go grocery shopping. I barely fit in time to sleep and shower, let alone spend hours in a studio. Don't get me wrong, I'd rather spend time in a studio, but my education is still something I really value and need to see it through. And like most students, I'm not financially in the place I need to be to make such a large investment like producing a new album.
On the other hand, I'm writing so much new music. Music that is more mature, more powerful and music that I'm so excited to share. Social media-wise, I'm in a place where my posts are reaching people outside of my immediate circle and I'm truly getting to share my content. I've been posting bits and pieces of music on my stories and it is being so well received. I want to share this music I've been writing but I don't have the means to do it...
So I've decided to move forward anyway and post new music on social media. I understand that this is a change of pace from The Blue Book Project, but it gives me the space to post songs that I'm proud of while still giving me piece of mind. It's through all the amazing support I've been getting that this is even an option, and I appreciate all of the love that has been sent my way. There are two videos that will be coming out in the next couple weeks and I'm restless waiting to share them. I hope you love them as much as I do. Until then, remember to subscribe, follow and like all my media pages to know and keep up with what's going on. (P.S. if you have a Gmail account, you can subscribe to channels on YouTube)
From me, with love, to you,
What's going on?
Here's a place where I'll try to keep you updated on what's going on in my life and with my music to keep you connected.