As early as I can remember, my parents were playing the music of all the classic rock icons in our blue ford minivan as we took trips along the east coast. Our favorites were The Beatles, The Who, and Cat Stevens, but most often the The Beatles discography and the congruent movies were on repeat.

My younger brother Keith and I used to pretend to be John and Paul, just like we would any other heroes in our infinite imagination. We'd obviously sing along with the songs while they were on, but we'd also practice singing in unison with the vacuum cleaner as one of our parents were making their way through whatever room we were in.

As I approached puberty, I started recognizing what my peers were listening to and gained an awareness of what rock music had become by the early 2000s. Bands like Blink 182, Green Day, and other pop-punk sensations had my attention and influenced me to start learning their catchy melodic riffs on the guitar my parents bought me as a bargain/bribe for achieving the "holy communion."

My older sister Jessie then caught wind of my interest in these newer genres of music and took it upon herself to burn me a mixed CD of potential inspiration. After telling her which songs I liked the most, she went back in and burned me all the CDs of Blink 182 and Green Day, to harness the particular vibes that were resonating.

As soon as I could mimic the essence of a particular riff of a song, Jessie would praise me and have me perform for her friends, whether it be over the phone or at a Brooklyn block party. She was my biggest fan before I could even play a song all the way through.

By the time I was in high school, a handful of kids I was friends with played music too and started to form different bands. I hadn't had the opportunity to be a part of any of these "serious" groups, but started to play around with some of the others that were drummers. I was witnessing my peers begin to show their skills in the talent shows at our school, and I always wanted to join the wave of performance, but was too afraid to get on the stage in front of everyone. I played a handful of times in front of my classes for projects, but I never had I played in front of an entire auditorium of students. Too terrifying.

After high school, I finally started to connect with close friends, John Mosley and Jake Fuscia, who also played. My song writing really began here as I now had writing partners to enliven my creative expressions while also having their own song ideas to add to the pot. We became a group called Moon Days, which started as just two acoustic guitars and a flute. This then branched into keyboard, bass, and drums as we hit the studio for the first time with Mike Britt, a local legend, engineer, and guitarist who had the most affordable prices in town. The genre we described as flutey-folk rock, but it was heavily influenced by the culmination of the classic rock gods, especially The Beatles and The Who. Our newer love for The Flaming Lips then quickly innervated our writing as we became aware of how they carried psychedelic rock to a new level, and more importantly, how it could continue to evolve with a familiar newness.

Moon Days recorded and released two EPs, a handful of singles, and 1 full length LP. Because we had so many songs, and couldn't record them at the pace we were writing them, there was inevitably a lot of creativity build up. (Mitch Gollub also joined the band on bass at this point) By the time we were designing the track list for the full length, I felt I was already growing out of the songs I was contributing and wanting of something new.

Before we finalized our plan for what would be the last studio endeavor of Moon Days (as of now), I went in there on my own with Mike to track some demos of the "new" sound I feeling myself called to express through. I had this craving to go heavier, be more distorted, and play a little more like the music that had first enticed me to really learn the guitar. The two of us recorded three demos of new tunes I wrote, partially incomplete before the studio, and wrote the other instrumentation right then and there. Within two sessions, I found a new flavor of creativity that felt different than all of my work up to that point. I was proud to have followed my gut and have Mike's multi-instrumental genius fill in the spaces of my vision.

In the summer that Moon Days was planning to release their first and last LP, Shuttle, I walked into one of those life changing events that blind side you like an 18-wheeler in an intersection with a broken traffic light. I received a call from my mom that my sister Jessie was in the ICU. She was found not breathing, and was brought back to "life" in a catatonic state, that the hospital was able to sustain through life support. The next 11 days then called me to put all of the psycho-philosophical lessons I had learned through reading into real time practice.

I had become obsessively fascinated with the understanding of consciousness, the ego, and how to live in the present moment. Dealing with heavy bouts of anxiety that blistered into stage fright every time I performed, I was deeply pulled into finding a way out. Two of the consistent themes that I found to be most significant from the teachers I felt most resonant with were that of surrender and gratitude. Through surrender, we gain access to the power within the Now-moment, which in reality is the only moment that exists. Through letting go, we set ourselves aside from the pain of attachment. By releasing our minds from clinging, we simultaneous release ourselves from the part we play in our own suffering. Then through conscious implementation of gratitude, we can begin to see the light in any situation. By appreciating what do have, what is good, and what is of benefit to us, we gain the clarity of what is available and what opportunities lie before us.

This was all I knew I could control when Jess was in her coma. I needed to surrender the idea of her physical form, for clinging to it would cause me more pain than necessary, and through gratitude I could see what it was that I could do to advance the situation to whatever degree possible. Each day, my brothers and I would visit the hospital, enter this little chapel available for the spiritually attuned guests, and I'd meditate. I would consciously let go of my expectations of what should or shouldn't be, I'd intentionally surrender my sister to the Void of the Unknown. and then I'd thank the Universe for giving me the opportunity to be a light for my family in the darkness of the potential brain death of a sibling.

It was through this awareness that the aperture of my potential was opening up. I knew that while the doctors and nurses did all they knew how to do, I would do all I knew how to do. I adjusted my frequency to tune to the vibrations of healing. I found frequencies on YouTube that were said to stimulate different areas of the brain. We went to a supplement store and found an essential oil, Frankincense, associated with stimulating the senses for people in comas. We re-entered the hospital with a new mission. We put the oil in a diffuser, put ear buds in Jess's ears with the healing frequencies, and took it upon ourselves to stretch out her hand, arms, and feet to work against the impending muscular atrophy. We also kept the room filled with friends, telling stories of her and laughing, while we had her favorite show "Friends" on the TV in the background.

Outside of what the doctors were telling us, and with the energy I was operating through to induce a miracle, I had this inner knowing that this experience was meant to be used for something greater. Jessie was giving me a new purpose to put into my music. She was gifting me with a story that I could tell through my songs and use for a higher purpose. I had the harsh event that seemed to be at the root of many of the great artists I admired.

Throughout the 11 days at the hospital, something miraculous took place. While Jessie's form laid dormant in the ICU, her formless essence was elsewhere. I could feel her love for me entering my awareness from all different directions. I could feel her pouring through her friends as they hugged and consoled me. I could feel her essence in the air around me as we stayed in her close friend's (Karen and Lynda) home that she was often at. I could hear her words of comfort and reassurance that all was okay through the songs on the radio. In the space left over from the form I had surrendered, her formless energy re-entered back into my consciousness simultaneously. I knew that everything was okay, no matter what the doctors told us once they could get a more accurate brain scan.

After Jessie was removed from life support, for we were told her brain
would not keep after being oxygen deprived for too long, I was on a new mission. I would honor the genre of music she helped me cultivate the understanding of in my coming of age. I would write lyrics that would speak to something deeper and that could be used to help the self break free from of the inhibitions of the mind. I would use this story to call forward the broken-hearted and offer a glimpse of the hope that is available for those conscious enough to see it. My heart and mind had been touched by something beyond this physical plane of understanding and I needed to share it with the world.

I was soon invited to perform at a cancer benefit by one of Jessie's friends (Meaghan McGoldrick), in which I had no band to play the new songs with. I figured I'd either play alone or I'd recruit a couple people to learn this new material for the show. Not expecting to have more than drums and maybe one other instrument, I surprisingly found myself with a full crew of 3 friends and a brother that wanted to help bring this new vision to life and perform with me. Mitch and I began going over all the songs I had built up and set aside for the next phase of my music career, Keith (my brother) then joined on the bass. Kate (a fellow musician in the local band community) readily jumped in with her keyboard, and then Mike Britt (with unexpected readiness) soared through with his improvisational mastery of the guitar. I found myself a new band, that I soon called Rrhea, meaning "flowing".

This name, being unusual yet familiar as a suffix for other words, was used in reference to the way that Jess flowed right back into myself as quickly as she flowed out. The great teachers of eastern thought refer to the natural course of life as being in a flow of energy, ever-changing and infinite. This natural unfolding is also expressed through the teaching of the Tao, in Chinese philosophy, which is defined as the "absolute underlying principle of the Universe,.. signifying the way, or code of behavior, that is in harmony with the natural order."

The songs of this album are intended to bring awareness to this natural flow of the Universe by emphasizing the important of the present moment, self-love, and the unwavering transformation of all things.