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| Songwriter,
Vocals, Guitar, Piano, Cello, Fiddle |
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| Sting
(my favorite, especially because of "Behind My Eyes"),
Coldplay, Peter Gabriel,
India.Arie (I love her vibe), John Mayer, Counting Crows (particularly
August and Everything After), Nickel Creek,
Loreena McKennit, Stevie Wonder, Dave Matthews Band, Shane Barnard (love his voice
and his guitar chops), Miri-Ben Ari
(Woah! That lady can play the violin!), Jennifer Knapp
(she kicks butt!), Pat Benatar, Nat King Cole,
Christina Aguilera (what a voice!), Green Day, Tracy Chapman, Ani DiFranco, No Doubt,
The Cure, Seal, Eminem (the less offensive stuff, especially
"Stan," "Sing for the Moment," "When
I'm Gone," and "Lose Yourself"),
Steven Curtis Chapman, Pink Floyd, Deep Forest,
U2, The music from Cirque du Soleil's La
Nouba, Enigma, Deep Forest, Kelly Clarkson (with her rock edge), Eddie
Izzard (the funniest man alive), Natasha Bedingfield (cool
voice, plus she's got something to say!), Damien Rice,
Vyvienne Long, Don Henley, Journey, Lee Tyler
Post, Aerosmith, Queen, Sade |
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Hmmm…where
to start, what to say, and how deep to go…That's
the biggest challenge in writing a bio. Perhaps the best
place to start is my childhood. I seldome speak of it because it digs up a lot of bad memories, and I'm all about turning a new leaf over – letting go of the past – making a fresh start – that sort of thing. But, it's probably very relevant for you to understand what inspired me to do what I do.
As a child, I was always afraid. My father began drinking
heavily around the time my older brother was conceived.
Alcoholism eventually ripped our family apart. I was four
years old when my parents divorced.
A nasty custody battle ensued and carried on for six years,
dragged through one courtroom to the next. Through shrewdness
and deceit, my father managed to obtain sole custody of
my brother and me. I wanted nothing more than to be with
my mother. My father wanted nothing more than to keep
us apart with no regard for the long-term affects of his
actions.
I was a bit of an outcast in grade school. The kids thought
I was strange because I would cry at the drop of a hat.
I was easily reduced to tears because of the fear my father
instilled in me. I was afraid he would permanently remove
my mother from my life as he'd threatened to do so many
times if I did not stop crying – afraid I would never
get to be with my mother – afraid that my father
was going to hurt, or worse, kill my mother. Our house
was frequented by police officers. My father often made
it a point to roughen my mother up when she came near.
One summer in 1986, things got out of hand. I watched
in horror as my father wrestled my mother to the ground.
He pinned her down, clenched his fist tightly and pulled
his arm back as if preparing for a blow that my eight-year-old
mind imagined would crush my mother's face in. I screamed
bloody murder! It must have brought my father to his senses.
He stopped, stood to his feet, picked me up off the sofa-chair,
and headed out the door, leaving my bruised and shaken
mother behind.
I learned to escape the negative circumstances surrounding
me by using my imagination. I created a make-believe world
filled with cuddly stuffed animals that came to life when
no one was around. There was joy, laughter, lots of hugs,
chocolate (mmmm...), rainbows, twinkling stars, unicorns,
dancing, lots of music and singing. It was filled with
wonder and all dreams came true there. I loved my imaginary
world! It is this world I speak of in "Too-ra-loo-ra-li."
My earliest musical influence was Stevie Wonder. I remember
sneaking out of my bedroom really late one night when
I was 6 or 7 to watch TV in the living room. I couldn't
sleep. I had been up crying thinking about my mom. I turned
on the TV to what I believe was Saturday Night Live. I
was completely fascinated as I watched Stevie play the
piano and sing. Here was this blind man doing things that
seemed impossible to my young mind. He was an inspiration.
I hoped that one day I'd be able to play the piano and
sing just like him. But even greater was my hope to be
with my mother. After seeing Stevie, my world was filled
with possibility.
My mom and I were finally united when I was 10 years old.
She became my best friend and my biggest hero. She never
gave up and she never doubted. She would have fought the
world for me if I'd asked her to. She taught me the power
of faith and perseverance in the face of adversity.
Life with Mom was much happier. Some of my favorite memories
are of us singing together in our house when no one else
was around. We'd make up harmonies to these beautiful
spiritual songs we knew. Then, whenever we got the chance,
we'd sing them for friends and family.
By age 13, I knew I wanted to be a performer. In school
choir, I'd auditioned for and landed the solo for a soulful
rendition of "Let There Be Peace on Earth."
When I performed it at our Spring concert, I was blown
away as the hundred or so people in attendance stood to
their feet in uproarious applause – my first standing
ovation. It was the most amazing feeling I had ever felt!
That moment gave me such clarity. I had a dream and a
direction.
Shortly after entering the Performing Arts Program the
following year at Gibbs High School, I came down with
pneumonia. When I opened my mouth to sing, nothing came
out. Much to the objection and disappointment of my vocal
instructors, I withdrew from the school.
I became very depressed. I had a hard time making friends
at school and was unable to escape to what I loved most.
I never wanted to be seen eating alone in the cafeteria,
so I would hide out in the piano rooms. I'd never learned
to play, but I enjoyed the darkness and solitude. I used
to lay there with the lights off and daydream about better
days. Then suddenly one day, something was different.
A tiny beam of light shined in the corner where a piano
waited patiently. It was as if I could here it calling
to me. I remembered Stevie and my wish from many years
before. I looked at the keys, barely visible in the dim
light, gently placed my fingers on them, and just started
playing.
Eight months later, I was the accompanist for my high
school choir at district and state competitions. I managed
to obtain this position by never revealing how long I'd
been playing piano. My singing voice had also returned.
I performed two arias and received "superior"
awards at both district and state level. And, for the
first time in a long time, I had "friends."
Throughout the remainder of my high school years, I used
my voice to imitate R&B divas. I could do a near-perfect
impression of Mariah Carey – even the high-pitched
screamy stuff. Some applauded, other rolled their eyes.
(I now roll my eyes, too.)
I met Chris during another difficult time. Just before
graduating high school, all of my "friends"
betrayed and abandoned me. I desperately wanted to escape
my circumstances, so I left everything I'd been and everyone
I knew behind. I went where no one knew me. I met Chris
while rollerblading with a group in downtown St. Petersburg,
FL. Chris lived a city away and knew nothing of my past.
With him, I had a clean slate.
If not for Chris's encouragement, I may never have performed
again. Chris wasn't even aware of my artistic abilities
and aspirations when we met. I wanted to keep it a secret.
I thought if no one knew, then I'd have no one's expectations
to live up to or doubts to hold me down.
During my first visit to Chris's house, I was greeted
by a piano in the living-room walkway. "Oh, hello,"
it seemed to say. "It's been a while. Why don't you
sit down and play?" "Leave me alone," I
silently chided. I'm glad it never did leave me alone.
Eventually, I gave into the temptation and started banging
out the Guns and Roses song "November Rain."
Chris emerged from his bedroom to find the source of the
music. You can imagine the look of surprise on his face
when he saw me sitting there playing. "I had no idea,"
he said. I explained to Chris that it had been my greatest
dream to be a performer, but I'd given it up. He insisted
that if music was truly my dream, I couldn't just give
it up. I had to make it happen.
Around this time, Chris and I experienced some synchronicity.
The company I was working for gifted each of its employees
with a very generous amount of stock options. The options
would vest once the price reached $70/share for 5 consecutive
days, provided the employee was still working for them.
As I remember, stocks were somewhere around $40/share
at the time. A couple months later, I'd handed in my resignation
with no hope of ever seeing the stock options vest. On
my last day of employment, the stocks soared above $70/share
for the 5th consecutive day.
We assumed the money was a gift from the Universe to put
in the direction of our dreams. We had two thoughts: either
use the money to pay someone to produce an album for us,
or buy the equipment ourselves and create our own studio.
We opted for the second option because we're like that…we
like doing things for ourselves and thoroughly enjoy our
creative freedom. We haven't looked back since.
Around this time, I began searching for my own voice.
I didn't want to be an imitation of anyone else. I wanted
to be me - full of individuality and soul. I picked up
the guitar by ear (much easier to take to open mics than
a piano) and started writing a lot material.
The 1st album we released was Light. The subject
matter surrounded my relationship with my father. I had
grown more and more angry and resentful toward him as
the years passed by. I decided to confront him, but it
brought me little comfort or closure. Light was
a reflection of all of the turmoil I'd kept inside for
so many years. We didn't do much to promote it. By the
time we released it, my style changed. I'd said what I
needed to say with regard to my father and felt it was
time to move on to different subject matter.
I was eventually able to forgive my father. After his
untimely death at age 54, my anger and resentment resolved
to pity and mercy. I could see how a pattern of bitterness
had been carried down in his family from one generation
to the next. He was just another link in that chain. I
made the decision at his funeral that the bitterness stopped
with me. It was time to start a new trend.
We've released a couple of albums since Light,
but nothing we've felt really good about. In 2002, we
released a limited-edition, 4-song blues CD as a benefit
for WMNF 88.5FM Community Radio. We also released a self-titled
acoustic album, but we had to rush to put it together.
We'd spent several months recording it, but a week before
we needed the CD for a show, our computer destroyed the
files. I spent 60 hours the next week rerecording the entire
album under great duress. As a result, I was not at all
proud of the recordings. All I could hear was that it
was stressed and rushed.
We embarked on Perspectives late in 2002. We wanted
to create an album that we were really proud of and we
wanted it to have something to say. I'd been introduced
to a book called The Artist's Way which gave me
a great deal of clarity. I wanted the music to sound the
way it sounds in my head. I once said I wanted Perspectives
to sound the way watching the movie Braveheart
feels - full of dramatic tension and triumph. I wanted it to have grant instrumentation, including lush orchestrations and choirs.
In the 4 years it took to create the album,
we grew so much artistically and so many positive
and encouraging things happened. In 2002, Soul City
Café – a website created by recording
artist Jewel to help promote independent artists. Jewel asked
people to create websites similar to Soul City Café
to promote the artists within our own community. We developed
Nubzilla's
Café, along with our independent label, Nubzilla
Records, to promote independent artists in and around
Tampa Bay. Soul City Café eventually linked Nubzilla's
Café up as one of its satellite sites.
In a surprising twist of events, I was featured on Soul
City Café for both my musical talents and for my
contributions to the artist community from March 13, 2003
to April 11, 2003. It was amazing! Nothing like that had
ever happened to me before. Jewel's team wrote, "A
voice that's both powerful and delicate, incredible range
both vocally and stylistically – what's not to love!
…We absolutely must let the world know about this
extraordinary individual!"
Unfortunately, Soul City Café did not survive much
beyond it's first year, but I will be forever grateful
to Jewel, Lenedra, Dale Kirby, and the rest of the gang
for the exposure that opportunity afforded me. I feel
that experience really helped put my music on the map.
My songs got thousands of plays during the month-long
feature, countless encouraging emails arrived from people
across the globe who discovered me through Soul City Café,
and Nubzilla's Café created some international
buzz, eventually expanding to promote artists all over
the United States.
In addition, Chris, once only comfortable behind the sound
board, joined me on stage in 2004. His ever-expanding
repertoire has grown to include bass, percussion, and
some keys. I've learned to play violin and cello. I consider
myself a bit of a novice at both, but I'm working on it.
I also started playing lead guitar out of necessity for
the album. That's coming along, too.
We recorded and produced Perspectives in our home
studio. We've spent countless hours arranging, composing, performing, recording
and tweaking it to give it just the right touch. We added up the total hours of all of the recorded tracks, and it's more than 4,000. . . and those are just the takes we kept!
For the
first time, I'm very proud of what we've created. It is
my greatest hope that Perspectives will move you
and encourage you to follow your dreams, no matter how
impossible they may seem. I believe dreams to be a matter
of faith, perserverance, and time. What is meant to happen
is going to happen, be it possible or impossible. I can't
tell you how many times I've been told something couldn't
be done only to go on to prove that it could be done. Besides,
"Pursuing your dreams takes the same amount of work
as acquiring more things that you don't really care about
or want – so you might as well pursue your dream."
–John Maxwell. |
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