I grew up in the rural south of the United States. Landlocked. The kind of place where time moves slower and dreams feel like distant radio signals—faint, fuzzy, always just out of my reach. In my family, travel meant piling into a van and driving 20 hours to Florida. We only did that twice. That was our big adventure.

But somehow, through sheer grit or blind luck, I ended up doing the two things I always said I would: I sang for a living, and I traveled the world.

Cruise ships became my ticket out—floating cities where I worked as a vocalist and traveled to 170 countries. The most shocking part was that THEY paid ME! Wild. When I wasn’t working on the ship, I kept going. Alone, curious, hungry—for stories, for connection, for the kind of food you can’t pronounce and have to point at.

What I’ve learned is simple: the world is massive, messy, and gloriously human. Cultures clash, borders divide, but people? People are inherently good. They laugh at the same things. They cry over the same things. We’re not that different.

So that’s what this is. A place for connection. A place for stories. A window into the lives I’ve crossed, the meals I’ve shared, the songs I’ve heard in unfamiliar languages. If I can help you see a little more of the world—and maybe see yourself in it—that’s enough for me.

Thanks for being here. Let’s get lost.