As a young sproutling in Anahola,  music wasn’t a “thing I did” so much as the background to everything. My mom sang, and our family gatherings were the kind where everyone piles in- someone grabs a guitar, maybe even a karaoke mic, and the night turns into a living room concert. I’ve spent the better half of my life immersed in music in one way or another. My first time singing in front of humans was at the second-grade talent show. We had just moved to a little town called Chicago Park in California, and it turns out singing to a room full of strangers wasn’t any easier than singing to a room full of people who had seen me in diapers. I sang “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” in red rain boots, with even redder cheeks. Through middle school, my music teacher (shout out Kenny Steel) wrangled his students into annual concerts, and I slowly got used to the fact that I was singing to 100+ strangers. 

I kept music close through college, though it felt like a long-distance relationship while I survived the University of a Million Exams Per Week™. After graduating, I finally had space to breathe (and sing again). So, I booked a one-way ticket to Latin America. I did the whole backpacker thing for about four years, made besties with a 900-peso guitar, and even started getting paid to sing. Getting paid for doing what I love most? Wild.

Fast forward a few years, I got to play grand pianos in swanky clubs, rock out on guitars at festivals, and basically live the dreams little rain-boot-wearing me could’ve never imagined. And then came 2024. I sang on The Voice. The stage was a huge milestone, and it flung open door after door. 

Not long after, I was invited to compete on Hawaiʻi to the World , a show that felt closer to my roots. Instead of sharing stages with cowboy hats and big-city buzz from across the country, I was surrounded by lei po‘o, hula, and the living heartbeat of Hawaiʻi’s culture. If you want to see more of that journey (including my Top 5 finale moment), the videos are on my YouTube.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. My biggest hope is to create a space where you feel seen, connected, and free to express your own creative self. Whether it’s through a performance, a lesson, or a song of mine. I’m grateful you’re here to be part of this story.