Before I started my career I had a choice: to take over my parent’s thoroughbred farm in New Jersey or pursue music full time in California and relinquish the farm to sale. I still wonder what life would have looked like had I stayed, but who can resist the gold rush? Besides, I plan to get back there one day on another farm with some other red barn.My music comes from life’s moments — smelling 4 acres of freshly cut grass, watching the steam from a horse’s breath in the early morning, finally holding the neck of my guitar after holding bridles and worn wooden handles all day. 4000 acres of freshly burnt wildfire, watching the steam from the Pacific Ocean’s breath in the early morning, finally holding the neck of my guitar after clutching the worn steering wheel of the tour van all day.Now my reality is in Bonny Doon, CA, where mountains meet the sea. I am in my recording studio, aptly named Hippie Cowboy, every day. Slow and steady; keep it fun, stay engaged. All for the moment when the song finally sounds right. My dad passed away a couple years ago — his bullwhip is on the wall, his Harley is in the driveway. He visits me in dreams, and oh, the moment I wake up! Sometimes I write for him. Sometimes for my mom, who I hope will move out to California soon. Maybe she could volunteer at an equestrian center…