Private questions
Short prompts that help me understand what people are actually carrying before the public version is built.
Private access before the public reveal
I CAN PLAY THAT TOO is returning after nearly two years — but not as the same thing you remember. Before I explain the full version publicly, I’m inviting a smaller group into the questions, fragments, and decisions shaping what comes next.
Something is being rebuilt from the inside.
What part of you is still between two worlds?
One sentence is enough. The answer matters more than polish.Before the announcement
Most people will see the polished version later: the venue, the date, the public explanation, the tickets.
The First Room is where the next version is still alive enough to respond. Your answers become part of what I pay attention to while the experience is being shaped.
Short prompts that help me understand what people are actually carrying before the public version is built.
Rehearsal pieces, visual references, musical ideas, room notes, and unfinished decisions.
Venue, date, ticket access, and private previews will go here before they go public.
A direct line into the making of the next chapter of I CAN PLAY THAT TOO.
That is where the next version begins. Not with a song request. Not with a theme. With the tension people carry quietly: where they come from, who they are becoming, and what they do when those two selves do not fully recognize each other.
Why this matters
The next chapter is being built around a real tension: the version of you that remembers where you came from, the version of you trying to move forward, and the strange space where both are true.
That is the emotional world I want to understand before the public reveal. Not in theory. Through real answers from the people who feel pulled into it early.
What arrives here
This is where the first clues arrive — the kind you only understand later, when the public reveal finally makes sense.
You may receive a single rehearsal clip. A line I’m testing. A visual direction. A question about memory. A note from a room I’m considering. A decision I haven’t made yet.
The point is not volume. The point is proximity.
A room before it becomes a venue.
A phrase before it becomes a scene.
A question before it becomes public.
Enter first
Add your name and answer the first question. I’ll send the first private note before the public reveal begins.
The first private note will arrive before the public version is explained. Keep an eye on your inbox.