The Summer of George.

I am a big fan of the show Seinfeld (and generally anything written or produced by Larry David). The melodic delivery of the dialogue, which by all accounts reads very straight on the page, is a vocalist’s joy. The seamless interweaving of the bizarre character plots are also genius to behold—although, it is amazing the show is so popular given that the majority of episodes revolve around plots of deceit, which you would ordinarily be repulsed by, if you encountered them in real life. Then again, within those plots, common superficialities and values are given center stage, making the show universally relatable and engaging, regardless of moral centering. My favorite Seinfeld character is Ge

Finding Your Identity Through Purpose.

Most artists self-identify by what they do well. For most of my life—if not my entire life, my identity was cemented in my talent as a vocalist. I self-identified solely as a jazz artist. Everything in my life revolved around my ability: My hopes. My decisions. My thoughts. My plans. My language. My passion. My self-worth. But what happens when life happens, and you’re no longer able to do that one thing you’ve built your life around due to a major life event, physical disability or trauma that limits or ends your ability to perform your talent? Over the last three years, I have had to detangle myself mentally, physically and spiritually from a mass of malignancy stemming from a series of ne

Remembering Whitney.

I have so many thoughts about the Whitney Houston documentary and so much anger about the circumstances of her life. The film revealed major details to the backstory of her life and gave light to the drug addiction that she has been so mercilessly judged for. Midway through the film, there is a scene where she is backstage mid-concert, rushing through hair and makeup between performances, as Bobbi Kristina looks on from the corner, lost and anxious for recognition. You can feel Whitney's inner-conflict and disappointment in herself for not being able to do it all—and not having the tools or time to emulate the unconditional acceptance that she never really experienced as a child, while being

The Gift and The Curse.

‘The gift and the curse.’ This phrase came to mind this week, while setting up arrangements to record a new set of IG spots for July, along with memories of all the tedious DIY arrangements made for previous shows. After the recording, I got curious about where the phrase originated from. A Google search of keywords mostly resulted in numerous links to Jay Z’s “The Blueprint 2” album, but the notion overall seemed preexisting. The phrase has largely been used to describe the pros and cons of possessing something of value. But how can something of value be considered a liability? Talent and gifting have commonly been referred to as both a gift and a curse, regardless of profession—possibly du

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