Hello from Chilean Patagonia,
The last time you heard from me I was in a writing residency in Oaxaca nestled in a remote compound surrounded by cacti and desert mountains about to launch my debut album. So, I mailed you a personal essay about what brought me to music. I’m not going to lie, I felt a little vulnerable after that; but this feels like my little literary-musical living room. So, if you’re here, you’re good company in my book.
Weeks have passed since then. The album launch came and went but since then I’ve been on the move exploring the colorful streets of Oaxaca City, riding horses in the Argentinian Andes, swimming in alpine lakes of Bariloche, and trekking epic peaks in Chilean Patagonia. It’s been a dream to say the least. But amidst the moving, I forgot to share the album with you all - how silly of me. :)
So for those of you who haven’t heard it, below you’ll find, First Bloom. It’s a compilation of spoken word backed by music and acoustic songs with my guitar and newly dabbled-in piano.
This album exists largely because of my grandpa who is my most steadfast, supportive fan. When I first started playing music, I felt so insecure about it. It was just for fun, I’d say, as though that were a shield. If people didn’t think I was invested in it, then they wouldn’t judge me on it. Right?
He kept telling me how good it was. How each song got better. Keep going for it, he’d say. All the greats started at open mics, he’d say. Now, for the record, I’m far more interested seeing in my books widely out in the world than my music. For me, music is a gift that just knocked on my front door and wanted to come inside for awhile. It’s like the sweetest neighbor you could ask for. Always there when you need a little company. So, we have fun together. Sipping our drinks of curiosity, strumming and singing out open windows all across the globe.
So these songs are raw, as they are sweet. Light as they are deep. They’re hardly perfect, and that’s why I’m proud to be releasing them into the world. Because you can sit on art forever. You can fine-tune it, master your craft, and meanwhile time ticks on.
But good music and good writing have two things in common that are salves for humanity. The act of creating is a release, and that release connects people. It weaves our threads tighter. It makes us feel closer to each other when we’re far away.
So I hope this album helps you alchemize the heavy into light. I hope it keeps you company when you need to go deep, and brings you levity after a tough night.
And if you enjoy it, share it with someone you love. Let’s keep the ripples going. Now without further ado, First Bloom.