There was never a time in my life without music.

Growing up, there was always music playing, people singing, instruments being pulled out of the basement for the first time since last year, and a piano that no one really knew how to play. One day a family friend pulled his not-so-seldom used saxophone out and played it. This instrument – in all of its gold and glimmering gadgetry, exuding such sweet smooth and calming sounds, still loud to be clear over a room full of conversation – it was the embodiment of who I was (though I didn’t know it yet).

I played the alto saxophone as a major in the Regional Arts Program at my secondary school. The program taught me how to listen. It taught me about all the elements of music, its dimensions, the story it tells, its history, and so much about music theory that I’ve forgotten more than I can remember. I didn’t like jazz at the time, but the music I played automatically became jazz by virtue of the instrument, and eventually I learned to like it. I wanted to be a musician for a very long time, but toward’s the end of my term at Mayfield Secondary School, decided it was an impractical way for me to make a living. I decided on a path away from music, and now I’m working to correct it.

I became an aircraft mechanic. For four years, music became something I did from time to time, rather than a part of my life. I did start singing occasionally in the company of my mirror. From time to time I’d sing to a karaoke track off of youtube. I learned the piano accompaniment to Adele’s “Someone Like You”, although it took 2 or 3 years due to how seldom I had access to a piano. During this time I stopped playing the saxophone altogether. I suppose it’s fitting that the sound of my voice should echo that of the alto sax I once played.

Then one day I quit my job in Northern Ontario, and moved back home to the G.T.A.. It was the perfect opportunity to get back into music. My Dad and brother, who were in a jazz band together when I’d left home, were no longer playing together, so I decided to look elsewhere. I answered a Kijiji ad for a punk band looking for a singer. They already had one so it was a perfect opportunity to stay under the radar until I could build my confidence up enough to have an audience of larger than 2 or 3 people. That’s how I met Robert.

When I first saw him, Robert’s head rose above the doorframe and his smile shone bright than the sun on that cloudless afternoon in Spring. In an instant, my head spun right off my shoulders as my heart leapt right into his hands. The band broke up before I could attend a second practice, but the meeting was time well-wasted. Robert reminded me how much music meant to me. Once we became romantically involved, it took a great deal of convincing, and the first song I ever finished writing (written in his honour), to get him to play music with me. We’ve been writing music, playing music, and making magic together ever since.

While Robert and I make a great team, I’ve also been working to evolve as a solo artist, experimenting with different genres and styles of writing. I soon hope to move into Toronto broaden my horizons and expand my network. If you’d like to be a part of it, please, email me.