From the fourteen year old child like awe behind a drum kit to life as a husband and father of two, the journey has been long. More years have been spent with an instrument in hand, than without. That is perhaps one of the grandest earthly rewards outside of family. Music is frequencies moving air, both of which are powerful, both of which are needed for life.
Raised on grunge, heart stolen by 90s east coast hip-hop, fell backwards into pop-punk, rescued by death metal, baptized by ambient synth, falsetto, vocoder robot poetry over beep boop loops. Found a voice, scraped together some words as they fell out of a heart, often scarce but grateful when frequent.
A son of Father God compelled to use all of it to sing to Him who He is because He already knows who we are.
Does any of this make sense? Does it need to?