Music made to move the whole room.

My music began with a need to get out of the house and meet people.

In January 2026, a friend and I were on our way to The Westerner when a thought came to me: dancing is floor play. I said it out loud. A moment later came another phrase: “Floor Play Comes Before the Foreplay.”

I knew it needed to be a song.

I had no musical experience and no idea how to make one. When I got home, I started asking questions. ChatGPT helped me explore the idea and introduced me to tools, including Suno. I spent more than 40 hours working on the lyrics and went through more than a thousand recording iterations before choosing the version I released on February 12, 2026.

After that, other titles started coming to me, asking to be written.

Sometimes an idea arrives as a title, sometimes a hook, sometimes an entire chorus. Sometimes I follow an idea and it becomes something I never expected. An early attempt to write a song about feeling better eventually became “Dance Instead.” Dancing with women who didn’t speak English inspired “The Dance Is the Language.” “Christmas Was Made for Dancing” arrived as a title with such a strong feeling of inevitability that I knew I had to write it.

I spend hours talking through those ideas with ChatGPT. A suggestion that doesn’t work will sometimes help me discover the line that does. That conversation gets my mind moving. I’ve also developed a detailed songwriting rubric to help me examine the story, language, structure, emotion, and danceability of each song.

Then comes the work of finding the right melody, beat, instrumentation, and vocal delivery.

I use Suno to create recordings, and I put at least 40 hours—and sometimes hundreds—into a song. I often work through a thousand or more iterations; some songs have taken more than five thousand. I keep listening, revising, and trying again until the recording feels right to me.

The beat has to make you want to move. The vocals have to be clear above the instruments. The story has to hold your attention, and the music has to make you feel something.

Most of my songs are playful. Some are romantic, and some travel into darker territory. I’m drawn to the electricity between opposing forces: attraction and hesitation, fear and trust, loneliness and connection. Mythology and different languages give me other ways to explore those feelings. I leave room for listeners to find their own meanings, especially in a song like “I Bind Your Soul to Mine.”

Three songs tell you quite a bit about me. “My Lead, Her Step” grew from interactions I’ve experienced on the dance floor. “Dance Instead” expresses one of the biggest reasons I dance: it helps me feel better. “Cowboy Swing Dancing” is about two people having a blast together—the experience I hope to create every time I ask someone to dance.

My favorite reaction is seeing people rush onto the floor when one of my songs plays at The Westerner for the first time. Those are the people I had in mind while making it. Watching them move to it means a great deal to me.

I believe technology should create more opportunities for human musicians, not fewer—which is why I make my songs available for musicians to perform and monetize.

And I welcome useful criticism. Tell me where a lyric loses you, where the energy slips, or what would make a song more enjoyable to dance to. An idea that helps me improve is a gift.

Dancing has given me people to laugh with, a place to belong, and something to look forward to each week. Writing music has given me a way to share some of that feeling.

If one of my songs brings you onto the floor, helps you feel better, or gives you a few happy minutes with another person, I’m glad it found you.