Atmospheric compositions that live somewhere between silence and feeling. Cinematic, intimate, unhurried.
It started the way most stories do. A guitar, a borrowed amp, and the belief that music could say the things words couldn't. Growing up in Greece, I spent my nights playing live venues, feeling the raw energy of a crowd, learning how a single chord change can shift an entire room.
Somewhere along the way, the music turned inward. I traded crowded stages for quiet studios, layering textures and space instead of volume. The guitar stayed, but it found new company. Strings, piano, electronics, silence itself. What emerged was something atmospheric, something that breathes.
Now, after years of composing in the margins of a career in design, I'm finally giving this music the space it deserves. Distant Shores is the first single from an album that's been building for a long time. A collection of pieces that map the emotional distance between where you've been and where you're going.
The first release from an upcoming album. A meditation on longing and the quiet courage it takes to leave familiar ground behind.
By day, I lead design teams across London, Vancouver, and New York. By night, on weekends, and in the quiet hours that belong to no one, I compose. The two worlds aren't as far apart as they seem. Both are about crafting experiences, shaping how people feel, creating something from nothing.
My music draws from the cinematic and the intimate. The sweeping landscapes of film scores and the quiet vulnerability of solo piano. I'm drawn to music that gives you permission to feel something, that doesn't rush, that trusts the listener enough to leave space.
The album I'm working on is a collection of these spaces. Each piece is a scene, a memory, a feeling that didn't have words but needed a voice. The guitar is always there. It's where I started. But now it shares the stage with strings, keys, and the textures that live in between.