
About
It started with a vibraphone.
In high school I transcribed Lionel Hampton solos note by note until I could play them — and that obsession became a Fine Arts degree in jazz and percussion. Music was first. It was always first.
I was a professional jazz musician through college and never stopped playing. Then I spent 25 years founding and leading companies — from a kitchen counter to teams across the country and beyond, through best-places-to-work lists, to two acquisitions — known for culture and engagement: the psychology of motivation, what transformational impact looks like, and how people actually grow. I mentored founders, served boards, taught leadership.
Those years were a gift. They’re where I learned how culture actually forms, how people actually change, and how to guide both — not from a book, but from payroll, from hard conversations, from rooms where the stakes were real. Everything I do now stands on that foundation.
And alongside it, the music never stopped. I played six nights a week in a band. I studied singing bowls and sound healing in a multi-generational Nepalese lineage and sacred percussion — taiko — in Japan. The dream was always the same: study the music of the world, then bring it into a container for healing and growth. I came to understand that the two threads of my life — building experiences and making music — were one thread.
That’s when sound stopped being performance for me and became technology — the oldest one we have for changing human state. Presence over performance became the whole practice. A tone can settle a room full of strangers. A rhythm can move what talk can’t reach. This technology is alive, and learning to wield it with precision and reverence is the work of my life now.
Today I live in Telluride, Colorado, and I build states of being: immersive sound ceremonies you lie down inside of rather than watch, retreats that create the conditions for real change, and one-on-one work with leaders standing where I once stood — successful, and quietly asking what now?
Even my instruments tell the story. I’m a multi-instrumentalist — keys, guitars, voice, every kind of percussion, and the sacred instruments of ceremony: singing bowls, gongs, bells, chimes. Around them sits a live rig of custom-programmed hardware and software I’ve designed over years, built to shape sound to the state a room needs in real time.




The purpose