Between April and May 2008 I was 1) broken up with by a long-time serious gf (fiance as far as I was concerned) 2) given a University diploma (very depressing) and 3) hit by a car while riding my bicycle in Orlando, FL (pretty serious, spent a few days in the hospital, hairline fracture in skull, hemorrhaging, doped up on anti-seizure meds). These three events sent me on a downward emotional, spiritual, existential spiral. After about a month of crying myself to sleep every night, I learned that some people were going to some event in Illinois called PAPA Fest. I didn't really know these people, nor did I know what PAPA Fest was... I only knew that I needed to go with them. And I did. It was the beginning of a healing process.
That's the first MAJOR event of my life in which you were (unwittingly) involved.
About a year later I found myself knee-deep in the process of writing, recording, and promoting my debut solo release, Life is a Bike Wreck (Better Wear Your Helmet), which I was hoping to unveil on July 25th. This was a VERY BIG DEAL. I envisioned the break-up, graduation, and bike wreck as combo punches that knocked me out and nearly left me for dead. Over the course of that year, as I processed my depression and existential frustration, I began street performing in Orlando, then writing poetry, then songs. I was slowly rising to my feet, hoping to look my opponent - all the forces of evil - in the eyes and declare with a furtive look, "it ain't over yet!" This moment would occur (I was sure) when I finally released my debut EP, a concept album that followed my progress but ended with some uncertainty as I also faced such a future. None of that mattered, though. Not yet. All that mattered was that I release my album.
Long story very, very short: my computer crashed. On the Monday before my album was to be released, my computer crashed and I lost two complete songs and bits of pieces of two of the others... OUT OF FIVE. About half of my album totally gone. I spent the entire week trying to get my computer running again, to salvage the lost material, to re-record what had been lost.
I'm a failure. I won't be able to look my opponent in the face and say "it ain't over." This will be yet another existential blow... but this time, I may not be able to fully recover.
As I frantically tried to pull the album together last minute, these were the thoughts - the lies - raging in my mind. Thursday morning rolls around, and I am to meet with another musician friend who's going to help me record my album at his house (all my equipment was failing).
He says we have to postpone... several hours pass... again, we have to postpone. It's now Thursday afternoon. My album is scheduled for a Saturday release.
"Listen, Gio... I think you need to calm down. Timbre is playing at Status tonight. You should go watch her play. I think it will help."
I saw you play that night - July 23, 2009 - in Orlando, Florida. I left with a sense of peace. And determination. I was STILL not down for the count.
I got back to my friend's house around 12:30 and worked for 18 hours straight. Mostly alone. Without eating or sleeping. Recording, mixing, mastering. I bounced down the disc at 6p on Friday evening and headed to a friend's church, where she would help me reproduce my brand spankin' new album... five copies at a time. We ordered pizza. I was in bed by 1p with 300 burned CDs on a spindle and the corresponding artwork and envelopes in a pile beside.
It ain't over. Not yet.
I released my album on July 25, 2009 and went on tour for five weeks. Less then a week after my return to Orlando, I moved to NYC.
That's the second MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR event in my life in which you were (unwittingly) involved.
I just thought you should know... and that's that!
Please support the artist to whom this letter is written:
Please also support MY music by purchasing it at iTunes or Amazon. Don't have five bucks? At least play the sweep stakes! it's free! Go here for more details: