Before we start, let me be honest: ‘Remember’ is about my first heartbreak. Cheesy as it might sound, at the time, I did not know how else to express my feelings, so I poured them into a song. Interestingly, it’s the first song I ever thought about taking to the studio. It’s almost poetic when I think about it now—the beginning of my creative journey came from a place of emotional vulnerability.
In a way, I’ve always struggled with expressing myself. I’m introverted and deeply value my space. This has been one of my biggest challenges as an artist. When I seriously began considering a music career, I had to confront the reality that it wasn’t just about creating songs in solitude. I needed to step out, network, and immerse myself in environments where connections are built. That realization was tough. But I knew deep down that there were incredible opportunities waiting—opportunities that I wouldn’t reach if I allowed my introversion to hold me back.
Eventually, I told myself to just do it. And honestly, taking that leap opened up doors I never expected. I’ll say this: the people I’ve worked with made all the difference. They were welcoming, supportive, and made the process feel less intimidating. Collaboration can be daunting, especially when you’re someone who prefers working in isolation, but the artists I partnered with showed me that it’s possible to build a creative rapport that feels natural and comfortable. They made it easier for me to come out of my shell, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful.
I’m thinking about the Kahren who wrote ‘Remember‘ and the Kahren that’s speaking now. My writing and vocals have grown. They’re more refined now. I wouldn’t say the evolution is massive, but there’s an obvious shift in how I create. My experiences—both past and present—have shaped the way I approach music. My creative process has changed, influenced by the lessons I’ve learned along the way. It’s clear to me that I’ve improved, and I’m excited to keep growing.
One area I have been especially growing in is balancing my songwriting process with my personal artistic vision and the expectations of listeners has been an ongoing learning experience. I’ve found it’s all about versatility—finding ways to marry both worlds. There are songs I write purely from a personal place, reflecting my own emotions and stories. But I also make a conscious effort to consider what I feel people would enjoy listening to right now. It’s about blending those two aspects: my own authenticity and the current musical landscape. My approach is to record songs I truly connect with while also experimenting with elements that I think will resonate with listeners. It’s a balancing act, but it keeps me grounded and constantly evolving.
When I think about my long-term goals as an artist, my dream is simple yet ambitious: I want to grow my audience, perform in different countries, and connect with people from diverse cultures. Learning about these cultures and incorporating them into my music excites me. More than anything, I want my music to have an impact. I want people to listen to my songs and feel deeply understood, to find pieces of their own experiences in my lyrics. That connection—that’s what drives me.
I took a music break for a few years. Looking back, that pause was a gift. It gave me the space to explore new genres, record as much music as possible, and connect with new people in the industry. Most importantly, it was a time to prioritize my mental health, which, as an artist, can sometimes take a backseat. That break allowed me to recharge and rediscover my creative passion from a fresh perspective.
What motivated me to finally release my music again was the realization that I had spent so much time holding back. I had all this music—songs that captured different parts of my journey—and I felt it was time to share them. It was time to stop waiting and start showing the world what I’ve been working on.
Since coming back, I’d say the process of making music now feels different compared to 2019. Back then, it was easier in some ways because there was less pressure. I could freestyle and experiment freely without overthinking things. It was all about exploring and having fun with the music.
Now, it’s more serious—it’s a profession, something I approach with a lot more intentionality. There’s more to consider with every decision, from the writing process to how I release songs. While I still enjoy creating, there’s an added layer of responsibility. I want my music to resonate with people and meet a certain standard, which means I put a lot more thought into the process.
That said, I appreciate how far I’ve come. The challenges have pushed me to refine my craft, but I do miss the freedom of those earlier days when there was no external pressure, just pure creativity.
I love using my songs to tell stories—not just from my own experiences, but also from perspectives that aren’t personal. For me, storytelling through music is everything. It’s similar to the way people watch movies, find them relatable, and then rewatch them because of how they make them feel. I want people to have that same experience with my music. I want listeners to say, This song makes me feel a certain way, or This reminds me of something I’ve been through. That connection is what drives me—it’s the core of why I create.
SATIVA
Sativa is just majorly about navigating situationship which I will get more into when I drop my upcoming project. Sativa is just navigating through relationships that are not defined and don’t know where it stands. It just focuses on situationship and like what I sang in the song because of the fear, I don’t want to ever be in that situation again.
The project is primarily inspired by my experiences in school. Here, I watched so many things happen and heard stories from my friends about their toxic relationships or their undefined relationships.
At the end of the day, my journey is what matters the most to me. I think that’s the most important thing to me and that’s what I put first. Everything I do- both within and outside music- is important to me.
