For 30 years, I wrote music for other people's stories.
Now I'm writing my own.
Concert coming in Spring 2026
who am I really?
I've been writing music since I was ten years old. At fourteen, I composed my first serious piece for piano—a sweeping, romantic work that felt, for the first time, like me. At eighteen, I performed my own compositions for an audience of 200 people.
Then, for nearly thirty years, I stopped.
Trauma—both at the piano and beyond it—made performing my own music impossible. So I spent my energy on another passion: building a successful career as a composer for media, channeling my voice through other people's stories while keeping my own carefully hidden.
Therapy, clarity, and the support of friends gave me something I thought I'd lost: the courage to return to the instrument. To write from the heart. To perform again.
To feel—and to share.
In spring 2026, I'll step back onto the stage and play my own music for the first time in three decades.
This is the journey I want to invite you to.
On Auroras and Twilights began as a library album—intimate, piano-focused music written to a brief. But as I composed, something shifted. Each piece became a reflection of my emotions.
Emotions I had kept hidden and out-of-bounds for decades.
This album turned into an introspective journey through loss and hope, despair and rebirth. It's about freely feeling—after decades of numbing myself to survive. The music grew longer, more complex, more personal than any brief required. I couldn't stop.
Some of these pieces would never fit the album I was hired to write. Maybe they were never meant for it. But they fit the concert I need to give.
They're the bridge between the composer I've been, and the artist I’ve always been—finally letting him exist.
And I want to share it with anyone who’d like to listen.
On Auroras and Twilights
