My musical journey began at 12 when I first sat at a drum set and discovered a natural inclination for playing music. But the drums didn't satisfy me, I wanted more. I was in need of melody. I had my mom teach me Fur Elise on the piano, and I managed to plunk out some other pieces on my own, by copying friends. At 17, I switched to piano for real, teaching myself by ear and diving deep into Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Scriabin and Satie. I practiced with obsessive dedication, 8-12 hours daily for a year. It was a full-on love affair with this instrument. An entire orchestra in 88 keys.
This phase lasted until I joined a band, and shifted focus for several years. I came up with a new way of playing that was much more rhythmic and percussive, almost like the drums I had begun my musical journey on. I learned to create my own melodies, and how creating space between notes could be as important as the notes themselves. However, upon leaving the band I found myself without access to a piano, and then at 25 circumstances conspired against me--I sustained a bilateral wrist injury that ended my piano playing. I could barely touch a single key without searing pain in my wrists.
It took a decade of healing to fully return to the piano, and I emerged from the injury with technical limitations that forced me to abandon my previous repertoire and find a new direction. I hadn't learned to read music well, so I would simply sit at the piano, and play whatever came out. Feeling the vibration of strings resonating through my body and the soft touch of ivory keys beneath my fingers. Playing a real piano is a full-body, immersive experience. I was trying to reconnect with something I'd lost, but I became surprised to discover my own music emerging.
Life got busy, with kids, family life and work taking up most of my time, and my time at the piano gradually faded into a distant memory. That all changed after a divorce and new job that had me travelling to London regularly, where I developed a tea habit. Back home, and now fully healed from my injury, every morning I found myself with a few quiet moments--a couple minutes for the water to boil, a few more for the tea to steep. I began filling that time at the piano. Day by day, those brief sessions grew into something unexpected... a collection of my own compositions. This page showcases the music that emerged from that morning ritual.
Each piece is named after a feature, or phenomenon, found or experienced in nature, because nature is where I go to find inspiration. Often when nothing is coming to me, I hike to a spring, hidden on the side of our volcano here, and just listen to the water for hours. Invariably, something always emerges from the stillness, and I create something new. The first piece is an example of this process. Anyway, I hope you enjoy listening!