I didn’t plan to start a blog.
I thought this website would just be a place to park my music…
but the more I created, the more I realised the songs weren’t the only things trying to speak.

There were moments.
Signs.
Dreams.
Little threads that kept pulling me toward the same quiet place inside myself.
Maybe this is where I record them — not perfectly, just honestly.

My journey back to music didn’t begin in a studio.
It began on a random afternoon when a free online music production course
appeared on my feed like a door opening by itself.
I clicked it without thinking.
Looking back now, it feels like the moment the river inside me started moving again.

Ever since then, my life has been filled with small, strange alignments —
as if the universe prefers to whisper rather than shout.
Like the time I parked my car just to grab a coffee
and the meter read 91.7 — my birthday, my path number, my reminder.
Or the night my track got rejected from a compilation album.
I was typing my reply, feeling that familiar sting,
and noticed the timestamp: 2:34.
The exact number sequence I always associate with
“something is shifting — stay open.”

Maybe people call these coincidences.
But for me, they’ve always felt like breadcrumbs.

The dreams too.
The mountain split clean in half,
a beam of blue light rising from the centre like the number 11 —
a symbol of awakening I didn’t even understand until later.
The tiger who played gently with me before crushing my phone
as if to say “wake up, stop recording, start seeing.”
The green dragon soaring freely —
a softness I didn’t expect from a creature so powerful.

I still think about what these dreams mean.
Maybe they’re parts of me trying to return home.

And through all this, there were my cats —
silent teachers of resilience, tenderness, and presence.
Miao Miao leaving on 2/22,
a pattern I keep seeing in moments tied to music and loss and love.
The kind of synchronicity that enters your life once
and never stops echoing.

Maybe that’s why Mellow Keys has never felt like a brand.
It’s more like a path I’m following —
a flow that matches the 癸水 in my BaZi:
quiet, intuitive, able to slip through cracks and find new shapes.

My songs often begin the same way my dreams do:
with an image, a feeling, or a colour I can’t explain yet.
They rarely start from logic.
More like… dream logic.
The kind that only makes sense after you hear it back.

So this is my first musing.
A way of marking that something has begun —
softly, quietly, like water finding its source again.

If you’re reading this, welcome.
You’re walking into my inner world with me.
Let’s see where the river goes.