When the Music Becomes the Mission
Tonight, I’m not at Red Rocks with thousands of people under the Colorado sky—I’m at work, headphones on, watching the Tipper & Friends 2025 set on YouTube. The visuals flood in at 4K, the bass shifts the air even through my laptop speakers, and I can feel that familiar spark I’ve chased since the first time I saw Tipper at Arise. Back then, I didn’t know what to expect. Now, after years of painting, sketching, woodburning, and recently DJing, I hear and see differently. Every transition, every effect, every visual layer is a piece of craft honed over years.
It makes me restless in the best way. Restless to create.
From Listener to Creator
I’ve stood in festival crowds, letting the music shake me, and I’ve stood behind my own controller, learning to blend tracks together. But tonight, I realize it’s time to step into the next layer: producing my own music.
Just like juggling three balls or sketching my first pyrography line, music production feels intimidating at first. But every skill I’ve built has taught me the same truth—start simple, repeat, and let practice build the muscle. Even if I begin with basic loops in FL Studio, layering sound packs, adding effects, and arranging tracks, I’ll be creating something that is mine. Something I can freestyle over, something I can stream without worrying about copyright, something that carries my voice as much as my art does.
Producing will be the bridge between DJing and performing as myself. And it will keep me from slipping into old distractions like video games—because I’ll have a world to build through sound instead.
Building Beyond the Beat
This isn’t just about music. It’s about synergy. My website, my blog, my poetry, my YouTube channel—these aren’t separate projects. They’re strands of the same web.
The vision is bigger: to one day host festivals, workshops, and gatherings on land in Colorado. To create a venue that is not just a place for music, but a place for transformation. When I told my mom about this dream during her recent visit, I realized it’s not optional anymore. It’s not a hobby, or even just a career path. It’s a calling.
Colorado doesn’t just want me to build this space—Colorado needs it. I feel that in my chest every time I write, every time I DJ, every time I imagine the energy of a crowd dancing under stars to music I’ve created.
The Work Ahead
I know the path won’t always feel light. Learning to produce music will be heavy at first. Editing videos feels like climbing a mountain. Building a venue will test every ounce of patience and persistence I have. But weight builds strength.
And so I keep writing, creating, layering, manifesting. I’ll turn journal entries like this into poems, blog posts, songs, videos, and eventually into experiences people can attend and remember.
This is how I become the artist, the producer, the festival builder I see in my mind’s eye. This is how I embody my destiny: with thoughts, words, songs, and action.
I’m not just watching the music anymore. I’m learning how to become it.
