You are not an artist. You have nothing of value to express, no talent. These thoughts, one way or another, were all in my head. As I studied to become a teacher, I resigned myself to being just an art consumer, never daring to sing beyond the confines of my shower.
But when I moved to the UK, everything changed. Musicians of all ages filled the streets, the uni, and pubs—playing not for fame, not for critical success, but simply for the joy of sharing music. I saw it as a sign. Maybe my last opportunity to try being creative.
That’s how it started—making music with strangers. A safe environment to make mistakes. When you learn anything, at the beginning you’ll suck. Writing terrible lyrics, singing off-key, making dozens of muddy mixes, being driven by ambition that exceeded my skills. I did all of that. It felt good though, being free to suck and progress.
On the way I met JJYY, a talented pianist from South Korea. At the time, I barely knew how to sing, but we became good friends. Those evenings with her were among my fondest memories, but soon enough she returned home.
Online collaborators became my teachers in recording and team work. I got the opportunity to sing for hundreds, which forced me to sing with consistency and discipline, instead of recording 30 bad takes before the correct one.
At that time, 50% of my collaborations ended with people ghosting me.
Then 2020 hit. A producer named LOHM invited me to a Discord music server, Indie Music Feedback. It was life changing.
What else was there to do at this time? With the world in lockdown, everyone was creating like it was their last chance. I worked with as many people as I could, made another round of mistakes. I met so many cool and talented people.
I became part of a band, Cosmoose, with the vision of the crazily talented DHXP. I finally accepted that while some of my limitations could be there forever, most were self-limitations, only in my head. Releasing these limiting beliefs opened doors to experiences I once thought were beyond my reach, enriching my life in ways I never imagined.
We all start somewhere and make our own creative set of mistakes. We don’t make progress as fast as we’d like to, but it feels so good when we look back, a few years later, and see how far we’ve come.
I kept in touch with JJYY. Everytime she would show me a new beautiful song demo, and I’d show one of my collabs. There is one subject particularly special to her: pigeons. I can’t express it quite like she does, but many of us do not notice the beauty and resilience of pigeons. They are everywhere, among the less desirable aspects of the city. So we treat them as nuisances. We forget about their strength, surviving in unforgiving places. It has been her project to celebrate pigeons through photographs, art, and music.
From there we started our very own band, OK Feather, a 4-piece band where she is the creative director. Is it serious “art”? How “profound” is it?
Nowadays, I don’t ask myself these questions anymore. I’ll dive headfirst into whatever creative impulse strikes me, and I hope you’ll do the same. If you’re hesitating to start, there is no better time than now.