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A couple of weeks before giving birth to my son, I had my final lesson of graduate school with my professor. He told me, “Now it’s time for you to become a real musician.” I thought to myself, “I’m already a musician! What does this mean?” He continued by explaining how, while we’re in school, we’re so focused on perfection and precision. Every note, every technique, everything has to be perfect. When you step away from school, what do you do then? Maybe we lose some of that

I always tell myself before a performance, “Even if this just helps one person, it’s worth it.” I recently started volunteering at Renown Hospital in Reno. On the first Monday of each month, I play piano in the lobby for an hour, and I absolutely love it. I’ve already seen how much a simple piece of music can lift someone’s spirits. Maybe it’s a healthcare worker coming off their first shift in the OR, completely overwhelmed. Maybe it’s a patient battling terminal cancer. May

When I got engaged to my husband, Tyler, I learned about his family’s Steinway piano business. How perfect was this?! I told my grandmother about the connection, and she told me that my grandfather, who passed away before I was born, loved visiting Daynes Music. I felt so touched and connected to my grandfather at that moment. Somehow, through Tyler, I had become connected to a place that had meant something to my grandfather, too. A couple of months later, I visited Daynes M

One of the most memorable performances of my life took place in Vidin, Bulgaria last year with the International Musicians Academy. I had just finished the first year of my master's degree and had been studying Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto. I was thrilled to make my first international concerto debut, especially with such a phenomenal orchestra. This was only the second concerto I had ever performed, and fittingly, my second Beethoven concerto as well. Looking back, this

I recently shared one of my favorite poems with my church congregation: I believe in the sun, even when it’s not shining I believe in love, even when I feel it not I believe in God, even when He is silent These words were anonymously carved into the walls of a World War II concentration camp. They were not discovered until the end of the war. Whoever wrote them was surrounded by unimaginable darkness, yet somehow found hope, peace, and faith in God. We do not know if that per

To be very clear, I hate this saying. And that is why it’s the title of this blog post. When I moved to Sparks, I had absolutely no intention of starting a studio again. My husband had just started medical residency, I had just graduated with my master’s degree, we were taking care of a newborn, and we were settling into a new area. Little by little, it all started coming together. I started getting a few requests for piano lessons, even though I hadn’t advertised for them ye

I moved every three years growing up, so we joked that we were a military family. But honestly? I loved it. I loved starting over. I felt like I could be anyone I wanted to be. I felt like I could reinvent myself each time I moved and started over at a new school. It’s kind of refreshing moving to a new city where nobody knows who you are. And they might not care at all who you are. That’s a beautiful thing. But many things come with starting over. New friends, new piano teac

My Grandpa, Kirby Giles, was the only other pianist in my family. He passed away from cancer before I was born, so I never got to meet him. One day, my 7th grade English teacher told us about an upcoming assignment. He wanted us all to bring in a picture of our hero. Naturally, I brought in a picture of my Grandpa Kirby. When I brought in the picture, I told the class about my dream to one day perform at Carnegie Hall. I even had a picture of Carnegie Hall on my bulletin boar

A man once came up to me after a performance, looked me in the eyes, grabbed my hand, and said this: “You’re already there. Whatever goal you’re working towards, you’re already there. You don’t even have to try because you’re already there.” I immediately started tearing up. I had never met this man before. How could someone I had never met know exactly what to say, and exactly when I needed to hear it? Little did he know that I wrote those words down that night. Three years

A week before beginning my second year of graduate school at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, I found out I was pregnant. For years, I had devoted myself to building a career in music from the ground up—winning competitions, performing internationally, and pursuing graduate studies. Yet when I saw those two blue lines for the first time, something shifted within me. I felt an overwhelming sense of hope, peace, and reassurance. Suddenly, all of those accomplishments seemed