songs vs. albums

Some may say an album is just a collection of songs. I disagree. It’s a house, and I’m currently building one.

I released my last album, the world is still beautiful (2023), and after that, I decided to focus on songs and to not make another album. My reasoning: an album is a ton of work, a lot of costs. It takes time and energy to write, record, and make it fit together. And as an independent artist, I couldn't tell if anyone will listen, care or resonate with the music. So it does feel like a big risk.

Yet, at the end of last year, I still decided to make an album. Because it’s fun. Because it’s like building a house. Each song is a room. One is a sparse, light-filled space by a fireplace. Another is a living room with loved ones around. Maybe there’s a private getaway that feels almost too personal to share. A balcony for a late-night drink, a cigarette, and long conversation. A bedroom filled with desire and passion.

And yes, there’s trash laying around, chaos, and whatever else fits in the description of life. You live in these rooms, write about them, explore them, and then present them as part of a bigger space.

I had a plan for this album, but it revealed itself differently. Sometimes, you just have to let it be and play. This way I discovered new corners, like an old photo framed on a wall, a note tucked under the bed, a brief memory of a time long forgotten. I ended up with a space that feels familiar yet scary. Beautiful and messy. Just like life itself.

Finishing is the hardest part. The thrill of new ideas fades, and the temptation to clean the floors, throw out the trash, hide the notebook under the bed, grows. But sometimes that mess is exactly what makes it real.

Sometimes, art isn’t about giving answers or even asking questions. It’s just a place to go, where its meaning reveals itself differently to everyone who enters.

Art needs no introduction. No explanation. Just a place to be.