I was at a crossroads. It was the start of 2020, and I was preparing for a work sabbatical, an essential mental health break I had planned for later in the fall of that year. I was also poised to take my music career to the next level. But when those respective “breaks” did not happen due to the global pandemic, I was headed in a nose-dive for another all-encompassing kind of break– a breakdown.
I gritted my teeth and did what I needed to do to survive. I dug deep to find my creativity all on my own, without collaborators. Collaboration gives me energy, it feeds me, and it feels like life’s purest, most vibrant form of connection. When I no longer had access to it, I started to question whether or not I could create alone.
But one day in late spring 2020, I found myself staring at an empty project in my DAW. Out of pure drive to create, I started layering in bass tracks. Some of the bass parts were chords; others were pedaling ostinatos. Then I layered in more… an arpeggiated bass melody and some haunting 10ths for good measure. Then, in the quiet of my apartment, I started to whisper melodies. The words were sometimes barely a thought before they came out into the microphone. Some of the words had no meaning on their own, but in the haunting solace of my room, they carried all the weight of loss, fear, nightmares, and hope for survival out of this mess. With each layer, I grew hungry. I experimented. I made myself laugh. I got excited about things that ultimately were kind of embarrassing. I started building bridges and harmonies and experimenting with production and song structure. And I kept going. 5+ years later, I haven’t stopped.
My work in The Silver Solace contains many of my creative explorations: solo music composition, exploring my own voice(s), writing about things that matter to me, maybe even a book soon. As a private person, sharing my art and my voice with others doesn’t come naturally to me; it challenges my every instinct. But we don’t know how long we have in this life, and I’m still here. I have the chance to fill the pages, write the verses, and most unnerving of all... publish them.
The “finished product” might only be scraps of paper, voice memos, demos, and fragments of art. But I’m deeply inspired by Fernando Pessoa, who said of his fragmented work of art, The Book of Disquiet: “My state of mind compels me to work hard, against my will, on The Book of Disquiet. But it’s all fragments, fragments, fragments.” -Fernando Pessoa
So in all of its fragments, I present to you… The Silver Solace