Checking out

I didn’t wake up one day and decided “I’m going to be an artist. I’m going to write songs. Alright let’s do this.” It just sort of happened.

I started taking classical piano lessons when I was seven and eventually started experimenting with my own ideas. They felt very natural.

I remember when I was 10 or 11 years old I started carrying around a mini composition notebook that I wrote lyrics in whenever they popped into my mind. They were pretty dark even then. I wrote about death and dying, isolation, poor body image, etc. It only took four years and a breaking point to discover that I had depression and finally got medicated.

I think back on that time a lot. Music was literally what saved my life. To this day it has always been my motivator and my escape from the world around me.

From day one I loved playing shows. It felt liberating. It was my comfort zone and my happy place. It still is. Even the closest people to me say that I turn into a completely different person on stage, but I just see it as that is where I open up the most.

I started the band with the intent of really jumpstarting my life in music. From day one of The Wind I’ve been going at top speed without ever slowing down. I guess that’s a good thing and a bad thing. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I get tired sometimes.

It only took a year but I ended up finding the most wonderful human beings to play music with. They’re my best friends, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. It’s times like these I value them the most.

Being an artist is hard. It’s vulnerable, sad, destructive, painful, lonely, expressive, honest and beautiful. It’s chaos, and I love it. Music was always what I turned to when life got the best of me. And that’s what I think makes you an artist, the need to create in order to keep yourself going. Enchiridion of Nightmares got me through a very difficult change in my life, but it also broke down my walls. Since I got done writing it I’ve become much more connected to my emotions that were masked by anger on the album. I’m digging deeper now. There’s something I’m trying to get out and I’m not letting fear silence the things I need to say. If I can’t talk about it, at least I can sing about it. I write to express what I can’t otherwise. I write for myself. The right people will like it. For those who don’t, I really don’t care.

I’m extremely grateful to have the next five days to do nothing but write and create. I need that right now.

Be safe tonight and tomorrow (and all the time) everyone. I’m checking out to make more art.

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