It seems like yesterday that I sat at the piano to write my first song. I played a few chords, the melody rushed through my mind leaving me with a line of words and the echo of a feeling that seemed to surface from unfamiliar depths. I sat there, contemplating the emotion, trying to locate its origin. A few chords and a new line of words came about. The feeling rose a little higher, spreading its wings, letting me know it was there all along. The song had to be written. The feeling had to be experienced and shared.
Over the years I learned to uproot and bring these unknown emotions to the surface. Sometimes they'd find me when least expected, whenever I listened to a classical composition that stirred something deep inside of me. It was a decade ago, after my first song was published and released by a well-known singer I won't mention, that I sat at my desk to try my hand at writing fiction. My only hope was to capture the emotions so evident in music and put them into words. I wrote my first vignette and at that point everything merged.
I'm blessed to serve as a tool for the creative outpour that is our universe. I plan to remain the humble servant of the muse.