Sound of New Beginnings

Behind the Scenes: Finding New Ideas for My Next Album

As I sit here at the piano, fingers lightly grazing the keys, the creative process for my next album begins to take shape. The journey of finding fresh ideas for a new project is never as simple as it seems. It’s like fishing—you cast your line into a sea of thoughts, and sometimes you reel in something amazing, other times you come up empty.

The pressure to be “original” or “innovative” can often cloud the real reason I make music in the first place: to share a part of myself with others. So how do I approach this next phase of music creation without getting lost in the noise?

The first thing I do is disconnect. It’s easy to get caught up in listening to everything that’s out there, especially with so much music being released all the time. But I’ve learned that if I want to hear my own voice clearly, I have to stop consuming so much. Sometimes I’ll avoid listening to anything at all, just to make sure I’m coming from a place that’s true to my own thoughts and instincts. It’s about tuning in to myself rather than to what everyone else is doing.

Another thing that helps me find new ideas is revisiting old material. I’ll sit down at the piano and go through songs that didn’t make the cut for past projects. Sometimes there’s a chord progression or a melody that I had forgotten about, and when I play it again, it feels fresh—like it’s ready to be part of something new. There’s something magical about returning to your past work with new eyes and ears, realizing that what once felt incomplete may now hold the missing pieces to a new creation.

Inspiration also comes from life itself—every day has something to offer. I find myself jotting down lyrics based on a fleeting conversation or an interaction with a stranger. Sometimes it’s a feeling sparked by a rainy day or a moment of stillness. These seemingly small moments, which most people might overlook, often give me the most raw, authentic material. It’s amazing how music can grow from the simplest of things if you’re paying attention.

Of course, part of the fun in creating a new album is experimenting with new sounds and pushing myself to try different instruments and techniques. While the piano will always be my core, I’ve been playing around with other instruments and sounds that might help open up new sonic possibilities. Sometimes, just playing a chord in a different way or layering it with something unexpected can unlock an idea I wouldn’t have considered before.

That’s where I am right now—taking my time, staying open to wherever the music wants to go. It’s a slow process, but each idea and discovery builds toward something special. The heart of a new album isn’t something you can rush. It’s more of a slow burn, and the fire keeps growing brighter with every new spark.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more as I continue this journey!

Making Of An Album

There’s something both thrilling and mildly unhinged about deciding to make a new album. You sit down with a blank slate, a few tangled emotions, and a nagging sense that this might either be your best work or a very elaborate therapy session disguised as art. Either way, you go in.

It’s been a while since my debut, and life—ever the pushy creative director—has made it clear that I’ve got more to say. Or maybe more to feel. Either way, the songs started arriving, uninvited but insistent, like old friends showing up at your door needing to talk. So here I am again, crafting melodies and mining meaning, song by song.

This new project is called Chasing the Sunlight. And let me be upfront: it’s not about hope, or golden-hour dreams, or skipping through meadows with a ukulele (though I wouldn’t knock it). The title came early, and as titles go, it’s been less of a label and more of a mirror. It wasn’t until I wrote the title track that the weight of it hit me.

Chasing the Sunlight is about the quiet tragedy of pursuing what was never meant to be caught—illusions, unattainable ideals, that shimmer of something we think we need… while often overlooking what’s already in our hands. It’s about the detours we convince ourselves are the destination. Sometimes, those chases shape us. Other times, they just leave us a little more tired and a little less whole.

I’ve finished three tracks so far, and I’ve added a cover of Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House—a song that always felt like a sigh from the soul. It fits here. It belongs in this sonic journal of hope, disillusionment, beauty, and self-deception. You can check it out in the Music section if your heart’s in the mood.

This album is taking me somewhere I didn’t quite expect—into themes that are raw, reflective, and, I hope, a little resonant. It’s about the quiet revelations we have when we realize we’ve been running hard toward something that was never real, or never needed to be chased in the first place.

Thanks for sticking with me as I walk this line between creation and confession. I’ll keep you posted on the progress. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll all stop chasing sunlight long enough to appreciate the warmth we’ve already got.

Stay tuned. Stay grounded. And, if you can help it… stop running toward the glow.