Where a song begins

A song rarely arrives all at once. For me, it usually begins as a small detail: headlights disappearing past a cornfield, the particular quiet after a difficult conversation, or a phrase that sounds ordinary until it refuses to leave.

I keep those fragments close. Some become choruses within an hour; others wait months before they reveal what they are actually about. The waiting is part of the writing.

This journal is where I’ll share more of that process—the first sparks, the wrong turns, and the moments when a song finally sounds honest.