27/08/2025
Chapter 5 – The Beat of Greenhouse Audio Lab
There’s something about walking into the studio that feels like stepping into another world. The lab coats and microscopes get replaced with soundboards and microphones, but the work is the same at its core — precision, patience, and passion. Whether I’m spinning a centrifuge or tweaking a snare drum, I’m chasing truth.
Greenhouse Audio Lab wasn’t just a name I thought sounded cool. It came from the idea of growth. A greenhouse is where seeds turn into something greater, where raw potential becomes life. That’s what I wanted for artists who came through my doors — a place where their sound could grow, where their voice could be cultivated, where they could step out stronger than when they came in.
Music was always in me. Even when I was deep in my science grind, I’d hear beats in my head walking down the hallways of hospitals and labs. I couldn’t turn it off — and I didn’t want to. I believe God planted that gift in me, and like any gift, it’s not for me to hide. It’s for me to share.
The studio became that outlet. Artists from the community would come in with stories — stories of struggle, stories of hustle, stories of hope. I’d sit behind the board, shaping their sound, helping them find the right balance between rawness and polish. And in those moments, I wasn’t just a producer. I was a scientist of sound, breaking things down, experimenting, mixing until the formula felt right.
Balancing science and music has never been easy, but it’s been necessary. Science gave me stability. Music gave me soul. Together, they gave me balance.
In that little room filled with wires, speakers, and dreams, I saw the golden path again. The same path that carried me from Waynesboro to the lab, from setbacks to comebacks, from silence to sound.
And every time I pressed record, I knew — this was more than music. This was ministry in another language.