Chapter 01
Where it started
I’m an only child. And I moved almost every year growing up. Newburgh, NY to Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, Pembroke Pines… Stone Mountain, Atlanta… Woodruff, SC… Gainesville… Savannah… Los Angeles… then back and forth again as life kept shifting. When you move that much, “Where are you from?” stops being a simple question. You learn how to adapt. You learn how to watch. And sometimes… you learn how to be alone in a crowd.
Music became my safe ground. The place I could belong without asking permission. I grew up in a conservative culture that didn’t really believe in pursuing art professionally, so creativity became something I held quietly—something I used to survive, to make sense of myself, to express what I couldn’t say out loud.
Because I was always in a new place, I was always hearing something new. The Beatles. Peter Gabriel. Five For Fighting. Etta James. KRS-One. And then I heard Eminem for the first time and something cracked open. I didn’t just want to listen. I wanted to build worlds with sound. I was obsessed with the way he gave everything to the persona, like he was representing an idea more than a person. That hit me deep. Because when you’ve been alone for a long time, you start dreaming about community, whether you know it or not.



