Heirloom

I returned to my childhood home in rural Nebraska in October of 2021. It had been nearly 25 years since my parents sold the house and moved our family out of state. I didn’t know what to expect upon returning after so many years, and being in the countryside it was no surprise to discover the home had been abandoned. My guess is that nobody had cared for the place (or the 6 acres of farmland it was on) for more than 20 years based on the decay I witnessed. Entering the home was one of the most surreal moments of my life. The memories flooded back - the home had been suspended in time. Mold and rot consumed most of the structure, but even amidst the decay, the layout was identical. It was completely silent. Outside, the warm October wind carried chaff from nearby fields being harvested in through the open window I had shattered to get inside. Everything around me was alive. I felt as if this forgotten home had been waiting for someone to come back. To love it again. A decomposing upright piano was leaned up against the front porch same porch my father built in 1996. With its strings exposed, I recorded a few notes. In the months following my visit, I listened back to what I had captured and realized I had sampled notes in the same key as the song I wrote for my mother (Ariana) in 2019 following her death. I had been looking for something of hers on the property when I broke in - something physical to remind me of her. I never did, but the recordings were more than enough. I’ve since returned to Nebraska - its cities and small towns - a handful of times over the last few years while writing my forthcoming album. All of the music I’m developing flows from the places, the people and the memories of my childhood in small town America in the 1990s. And so this song - Heirloom - is the first of many that are my way of bringing you close into the most formative and beautiful years of my life. The photo was taken in our kitchen. Some of my favorite moments of my childhood were in this room. My mom would cook, clean, sing and sometimes throw furniture when she got really angry. She was complex, and we all loved her for it. When I snapped this photo, I liked knowing that I was looking out the same window she did all those years ago. Mastered by Brian Calhoon License my music for your films through Musicbed: Instagram: Support me directly by purchasing my music on Bandcamp: Spotify: Apple Music: Say Hi: Youtube: