I've been writing songs for as long as I can remember.
The ones that stay with you long after the music ends. The ones that somehow put words to feelings you didn’t even know how to explain.
I’ve been writing songs for over 20 years, and I’m still chasing the same feeling I fell in love with as a kid: that moment when the right melody and the right lyric collide and suddenly a complete stranger feels understood.
That’s the kind of music I want to make.
I’ve always been fascinated by people—how messy, beautiful, complicated, resilient, and wonderfully contradictory we are. Love and heartbreak. Hope and disappointment. Healing, nostalgia, joy, grief… life has a funny way of making us feel all of it at once. Those are the stories I keep coming back to because they’re the ones that connect us.
Pop has always been home, but I love borrowing from everywhere. R&B, soul, funk, rock, country, EDM, K-pop, folk… if it makes me feel something, I’m all ears. I don’t think great songs belong in boxes, and I’ve never been interested in chasing trends. I’d rather chase that little goosebumps moment when everyone in the room knows we’ve found something special.
Whether I’m writing for myself, another artist, or a TV or film project, my goal is always the same: tell the truth. Not because every lyric has to be autobiographical, but because people can tell when something is real. That’s what sticks.
Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to write across a wide range of genres, collaborate with incredible creatives, and have my music placed in television. But honestly? My favorite part is still sitting in a room with someone, throwing out ideas, laughing at the bad ones, and stumbling into the song neither of us saw coming.
When I’m not writing, you’ll probably find me hanging out with my golden retriever Lucy, getting way too excited over a melody that popped into my head at the grocery store, or mentally filing away little moments that will almost certainly become song lyrics later. Inspiration has terrible timing, and I’ve learned not to argue with it.
At the end of the day, I don’t just want to write songs people hear.
I want to write the ones they carry with them.
The songs they blast with the windows down.
The ones they ugly cry to.
The ones they dance barefoot in the kitchen to.
The ones they dedicate to someone they can’t stop thinking about.
If one of my songs becomes part of someone’s story, then I’ve done exactly what I set out to do.
Thanks for stopping by. I’m really glad you’re here.
