Two years ago, I sold my shares in the business I helped build.

After years of leading teams, growing culture, and sitting through meetings that could’ve been solved in a half- decent email, I suddenly had something I hadn’t truly had in decades: time.

And not the kind of “time” where you still glance at your inbox every ten minutes. I mean real, guilt-free, unstructured, what-do-I-want-to-do-with-my-life time.

So, I went back to what I’ve always loved: performing, directing, teaching, and making music.

I’m acting again. Directing again. Playing piano again — both solo and with my band, THE DAWGS, a group of incredibly talented musicians who constantly remind me how lucky I am to share a stage with them (and occasionally, how far my back has fallen from its twenties-level flexibility).

It feels like reconnecting with an old friend — one who’s been waiting patiently while I handled mortgages, payroll, and adulthood.

When I was a teen, this was the plan. I wanted a life of music, theatre, and creativity — and I had just enough talent and delusion to think it might actually work. But then life, as it does, introduced some new plot points: rent, bills, family, and the small matter of needing to eat something other than instant noodles and Big Macs.

So I pivoted. I spent 10 years in music retail learning about how to run a business.  Then I built my own. I worked hard. I learned a ton. And somewhere along the way, the creative kid in me stepped aside — not gone, just waiting. Probably judging my Excel formatting.

Now, with the business chapter closed, I finally have the space to do what I meant to do all along — but with the benefit of experience, perspective, and slightly better taste in Cab Sauv.

I’m not chasing the dream anymore. I’m living the version that actually fits. Performing, teaching, directing, writing, making music — all the things that used to feel impossible when I was too busy being responsible.

And the best part?

I get to do it my way — no gatekeepers, no “corporate tone,” no pretending to be anyone else. Just honest creative work, surrounded by people who make me better.

So yes — I built a business so I could afford to be an artist again.

And I’d say that’s a pretty good return on investment.