A Place to begin

There’s something about writing that helps me breathe a little deeper and learn more about myself.

I’ve always been a writer. Long before I opened the doors to JP’s Six-String Studio, writing was how I processed life, faith, music, and the quiet nudges that told me to keep going. There was a time when I even wrote song lyrics. In fact, somewhere packed away in a box is an entire notebook full of those poems. Some days I feel like those days have passed me by, living alone in my memory, a treasure of the younger John. 

For a long time, I’ve felt the pull to document this experience. The trials and triumphs of owning a small storefront, teaching music, building something rooted in community and drawing on the spirit within me that has led me back to music time and time again. My family and my faith are deeply connected to music. For some reason I’m compelled to tell my story alongside the stories unfolding here every week.

So this feels like a good place to begin.

JP’s started in my home, with a few piano, guitar, and ukulele students and a belief that music is something more than pressure or performance. I wanted to create a space where I would meet people of all ages where they are, maybe curious or hesitant or excited or unsure and still feel welcome and hold a sense of belonging.

What I’ve learned, over and over again, is that musicians aren’t perfect.
I’ve learned I don’t have to be John Mayer or Keith Urban or Chris Tomlin to love music and the joy it brings to my life. You and I don’t have to get it “right” the first time. You and I don’t have to outrun imposter syndrome, we just have to avoid letting it stop us from finding that groove.

Music can be healing. Sometimes it’s the lyrics. Sometimes it’s the rhythm. Sometimes it’s simply the act of sitting down and trying again. Learning an instrument can be challenging, for sure, but it’s also far more possible than many people believe, at any age, with patience and time spent between lessons showing up for yourself.

That’s what I see here.

I’ve watched students step onto stages they never imagined standing on. I’ve seen kids beam with pride in videos parents send me from their living rooms. I’ve been humbled by adults who walk through the door and say, “I’ve always wanted to try.” I get to hear people’s stories, and I don’t take lightly being a small part of them.

JP’s is meant to be a welcoming space. A place where we connect.. A place where people can walk a few blocks from home and find music: vinyls, band tees, gifts, guitar strings, piano books, record players, and, perhaps most importantly, experiences that invite them in rather than intimidate them.

This blog is part of that invitation.

If you’ve been feeling the nudge to start something — music or otherwise — my encouragement is simple: start small. Follow the quiet voice like I did. Make a gentle commitment. Throughout my life I have found that trying rarely comes with regret.

I don’t know exactly where this space will go yet. I do know I want it to be honest, encouraging, and rooted in the belief that music and community are worth sharing and showing up for.

This feels like a good place to begin.
JP