(Names have been changed to protect the real identities of those mentioned)

I grew up in a house of five where singing filled the hallways. As a homeschooled kid, my atmosphere was built on the foundations of Geoff Moore, Carman, and the Newsboys. Music was always present, but it didn't become a passion until we moved to Wichita Falls, Texas.

That’s where a childhood crush shifted my world. Through Bailey Pinkins and her sister Britney (our "Go Sonic Go!" babysitter), I was introduced to the high-energy worlds of Tobymac, Hawk Nelson, and FM Static. I became an obsessive student of the craft—ripping and burning CDs, taping over cassettes, and reading every word of the liner notes. Around the same time, I fell in love with the stage, eventually performing in over 50 theatrical productions. By my teens, I was a devotee of Tooth & Nail Records, a collector of 500+ CDs, and a regular at the Rock the Desert festival, where I’d watch the bands and wonder: What would it feel like to have my words actually mean something to someone?

The Pivot

In college, I chased the theater dream until I met my wife. Realizing that the life of a traveling actor wasn’t the foundation I wanted for our future, I pivoted. I finished my degree with a music and theater minor and took an internship at the Outlaws and Legends Music Festival. It was my way of scratching the business itch while staying close to the art.

After graduation, we chased the first salaried "real job" we could find, which landed us in New Braunfels. My first corporate commute to San Antonio was soul-crushing, but it led me to a crucial catalyst: Brian Garcia-Brown. Brian was a talented producer, and I decided right then we were going to be friends whether he liked it or not. Thankfully, he was "super chill." He introduced me to the world of guitar pedals—transforming me from a strictly acoustic writer to an electric musician—and even traded me my favorite Epiphone Les Paul for a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. He produced my first-ever recording and pushed me to actually master my instrument.

The Wake-Up Call

Over the next five years, life moved fast. We had two kids and moved five times before finally settling back near our old stomping grounds. I joined a worship team and kept writing in the margins of my life, eventually amassing a catalog of nearly 300 songs.

The turning point came from two blunt conversations. First, my producer asked me, "Tim, how are you so good at this with a mix like that?" It was a dig at my technical setup, but I heard the subtext: You have talent; why aren't you doing something with it? Shortly after, a counselor challenged me with a term I’ll never forget: "Musical Masturbation." He asked me if my music was just for my own self-pleasure, or if it was for others. If it was for others, why was I keeping it to myself?

The "Now"

At age 30, I finally stopped waiting. I released my first real single, which garnered over 13,000 streams in 30 days, radio airplay, and a dream collaboration. It was the validation I needed to realize that being "seasoned" wasn't a hindrance—it was an advantage.

I don't do music for the numbers or the paycheck. I do it because this art form was there for me when I was a kid reading liner notes in my bedroom, and I want to offer that same connection to someone else. My first love was music, and it always will be.