I grew up in 1970s Texas, surrounded by a vibrant tapestry of music that shaped my soul. With three sisters, three brothers, and parents who each had their own musical passions, our home was a lively mix of sounds. On any given day, you might hear Charley Pride’s warm country twang, George Jones’ heartfelt ballads, the brassy swing of Tijuana Brass, Cream’s electric riffs, The Who’s raw energy, John Denver’s gentle folk, Jim Croce’s storytelling, or Elton John’s dazzling piano. Each artist left a mark on me, making it impossible to pin down a single favorite genre.

At 20, I picked up a guitar nobody wanted, grabbed songbooks by John Denver, Peter, Paul and Mary, and later Willie Nelson, and taught myself to play. Singing was my first love, and the guitar became my voice. I played every chance I got, soaking up new songs and licks from fellow musicians I met along the way. Those early days were filled with discovery and joy, and I’ve never stopped learning.

My Texas roots run deep, infused with the rebellious spirit of outlaw country—Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and their raw, honest sound. Yet, I’m equally drawn to the soft, melodic beauty of Jim Croce, John Denver, and Neil Young. As time rolled on, I evolved with the music, embracing hits from George Strait, Garth Brooks, The Eagles, Chris Isaak, Bob Seger, and more.

My three adult children opened a new chapter, introducing me to fresh sounds like Turnpike Troubadours, Trampled by Turtles, and The Avett Brothers. Their passion for music keeps me curious and inspired.

Music is my heart’s language. I live to learn new songs, sing with soul, and share the joy it brings. I’d love for you to join me on this journey—let’s celebrate the power of music together.

My daughter has a sign that reads, “Sing like no one is listening,” and while that’s a beautiful sentiment for fearless expression, it doesn’t quite fit when I’m performing in a coffee shop, restaurant  or pub. In those settings, my role isn’t to steal the spotlight or overpower the room like I’m headlining a concert. The folks there are catching up with friends, sharing stories, and savoring the moment. My music is meant to enhance their experience, not dominate it.

When I play, I aim for a warm, inviting sound—present but not intrusive. The goal is to create an atmosphere where live music feels like a delightful bonus. As people walk in, they might smile and say, “Oh, nice live music,” then settle in to chat with their friends. If a familiar song catches their ear, they might pause, sway, or even hum along before diving back into their conversation. I’m there to weave into the ambiance, adding a layer of joy and connection without demanding their full attention

My performance style is about balance—crafting a vibe that complements their time together, making the moment richer, not making it about me.