I’m usually somewhere between a question and a sound.

Some of those sounds become songs. And some of them carry other plans.

I grew up in Buffalo, NY. At thirteen, I started to build on my parents’ beat-up Dell, and Audacity became a nightly ritual. Those bedroom recordings slowly slipped past the walls that held them in — onto records, stages, and collaborations — finally leading me to New York City, where I was pulled deeper into production, performance, and the strange (yet beautiful) machinery surrounding it.

Somewhere along the way, the process became less about intention and more about instinct.

Following it has taken me places I never quite expected — performing at the Billboard Hot 100 Music Festival, working with artists and producers I grew up listening to, and hearing my music on Netflix’s You.

But what keeps me here is simpler.

I’m drawn to the things that linger — a melody that won’t leave, a texture that shifts the room, a moment that lands half a second later than expected.

Sometimes there’s a reason for it.

Sometimes there isn’t.