The Music That Waited for Me

Dearest Moonshooters,

Oh, how I’ve missed you.
And before anything else — I owe you a little apology.

Between the fourteen flights I’ve taken over the past two months, getting sick, recording on the other side of the world, and juggling new projects, I haven’t been as consistent with newsletters as I’d like to be. I always try to keep you close through it all, but sometimes things move faster than I can keep up.

So over the next few newsletters, I’ll be sharing the full recap — piece by piece.
Let’s start with the biggest experience: Germany.

The Black Forest Sessions

In late September, I flew to Germany to record 15 pieces of music — songs that have been quietly waiting for me for years.

As most of you know, before living in the US, I lived in Germany for 5 years. My time in Berlin was formative, as I really had the opportunity to hone in on my craft and become the artist I am, through collaboration and exploration of the self.

I’ve been making music since I was five years old, and I’ve been through every emotion a life in music brings — joy, heartbreak, gratitude, exhaustion, reinvention. But one thing I missed for many years, a miracle that only presented itself to me 4 years ago: you.

Because for the first time in my life, it isn’t just me and music anymore.
It’s us — a family.
This community has become the reason the music matters more than ever.

A Story Eight Years in the Making

Back in 2017, as I was working hard to develop as a songwriter, I met my musical soulmate Ed Prosek, and since then we’ve been writing songs together — building worlds in sound. Over eight years, we wrote dozens of songs and kept them locked away. Not because they weren’t good enough, but because they needed time.
We weren’t chasing releases, streams, or trends.
We were writing because something bigger than us was calling us to. Because we knew that our future selves would want us to, and the music’s time would come.

Most of those songs sat untouched for seven years… until a few months ago, when I suddenly knew.
It was time.

I called Ed and said, “The music is ready now — and so are we.”
So I packed my bags and headed into the Black Forest — five days of recording, capturing, and rediscovering songs that somehow waited for us to grow into them.

Music that knew it needed to wait.

What we discovered was that these songs had aged like wine.
They were wiser than us. Kinder.
And only now, years later, we finally felt ready — mature enough, honest enough — to do them justice.

It felt like the songs had been patiently waiting for their moment, just as I waited to find mine.
And they found it — with you.

A Pause in Italy

After recording, I took a train down to Italy to surprise my parents and spend a few quiet days reflecting on the experience. I wanted to stay in that creative flow, to listen carefully to what the music was telling me about what comes next.

Because this next project…
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before.

It’s a new world, a new interpretation, a new question — and a new answer.
I believe you’ll find a part of yourself in it too.

💌 Until Next Time

Thank you for being patient as I catch you up on everything that’s happened these past months.
I’ll share more stories — from Italy, Marfa, and what’s next — in the coming newsletters.

But for now, I just want to say thank you.
For existing. For caring.
For giving the music a home — and for reminding me that I was never meant to walk this path alone.

With love,
Violetta 🌕