Salut Les Amis,
As we wind down this year, I’ve been reflecting on the many moving parts that shaped my creative life—some challenging, some unexpected, but all deeply meaningful. I wanted to share a few milestones with you, not as a checklist of accomplishments, but as moments that reminded me why this work matters.
This year, I played 21 shows—a huge lift from last year—and each one taught me something new about improvisation, presence, and the invisible thread that connects musicians to listeners. My YouTube channel grew from 450 subscribers to over 4,200, and I’m honestly humbled. To everyone who watched, commented, shared, or simply let the music accompany a moment in your day: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
On the recording front, I released one EP (Who Knows Vol 1), two live recordings (Who Knows Vol 1 and Turill Live at St Michael’s Lutheran), and I’ll be heading into the studio again before the year ends to track another EP at Gray Spark Audio in Pune. This EP will feature some prolific local musicians from Pune, India. Slowly building a body of work—record by record, session by session—has become the center of my musical compass. Making albums and collaborating with artists from around the world has been the biggest gift of this year, shaped equally by time spent in Philadelphia and Pune, India. Both cities, and their underground live music scenes, have been generous teachers.
A big part of next year’s focus will be learning. I’ve realized that no matter how many shows I play or recordings I release, the heart of my growth still lives in curiosity—sitting with the guitar, wrestling with ideas, stumbling into new shapes, and widening the vocabulary I can express through sound.
To honor that, I’ve committed to deepening my guitar education with mentors like Erik Sayles, Elijah Cole, and Warren Mendonsa. Each of them brings a completely different universe of musical knowledge. And then there are my peers—musicians who may not call themselves teachers, but who teach me constantly just by showing up fully in their craft. Playing alongside them reminds me that community is the best classroom, and that inspiration often arrives in unexpected ways: a chord choice someone throws out casually, a rhythmic idea that shifts the whole room, or a conversation after a show that opens a new door in my brain.
Next year, I want to approach the instrument with more seriousness but also more wonder—less pressure, more exploration. I want to revisit fundamentals, dive deeper into the traditions that shaped me, and also chase the sounds I still hear only in fragments. The goal isn’t mastery; it’s motion. It’s staying awake to possibility.
This path of learning is long, but it’s one I feel ready for, and excited to walk with intention.
I also want to take my YouTube channel far more seriously, but creating an editing workflow that fits my time has been… a puzzle. So you’ll likely see more live-streams and more raw, one-take videos—simple windows into my practice routines and daily musical life. My recent videos from the Who Knows EP release show and my Ameyaxoxo Live – Solo Instrumental set are now up. If they resonate with you, liking, sharing, or subscribing goes a long way.
In the writing realm, I published 16 articles this year, all of which now live in the essay vault. If any of them offered value—however small—I’d love to hear from you. And if you’d like to support my journey directly, Bandcamp remains the best place to do it. Supporting independent artists is more important than ever; it keeps experimentation alive, allows for new sounds to emerge, and helps sustain the fragile but beautiful ecosystems where creative work can grow.
This year I also began helping Sandy Eldred with the Philly Jazz Scene artist calendar, which now draws more than 500,000 visitors a month. It’s been inspiring to contribute to something that supports so many musicians and keeps a vibrant community connected.
As I look ahead, I’m reminded that being creative—truly creative—can be incredibly hard. It asks for patience, vulnerability, and a kind of stubborn hope. But it is worth every moment. And having you here, reading, listening, watching, supporting, makes the path feel less like a solitary climb and more like a shared journey.
Thank you for being part of this year.
With love and gratitude,
Ameyaxoxo