Music and Words have always been important parts of my life. When I was younger, I would often dream of me being on a big stage, sharing my love of both with the world. But when it came time to choose what I wanted to do with my life, the logical downstream Pisces fish of my internal two fish duo, chose the path of least resistance because I didn’t want to be a “starving artist”. So, I ran from music and words. Never giving it my full attention. Never testing my limits and stretching my talent through study and practice. Never doing more than enough to get people to notice me and then retreating back into silence. But the Universe conspired to sit me down. On 12/18/15, I had a minor surgery planned that turned into a major emergency surgery because I was dying on the inside. A leaking abscess cause by a deadly bacteria had formed on my colon and crystallized many of my internal organs. From what I have been told my liver, kidneys, colon, appendix, uterus, and cervix had all hardened and fused together. The hospital had to call upon a surgeon at another hospital who raced to my operating room to try to save my organs. Some of them made it, but some of them didn’t. When I woke up from surgery, there was a sweet nurse rubbing my hair and holding my hand. I was discombobulated and felt very heavy. I could barely understand what she was saying, but it sounded like, “you are a strong woman, many have died right on the table from the same type of injury.” I thought to myself, “nah she couldn’t have said died” and remembered feeling scared and alone. I went in to surgery at 7:30am and it is now around 6:00pm unbeknownst to me. I had five specialty doctors tending to me bedside for the remainder of that evening asking me a ton a questions. I found that rather odd, but the anesthesia still had me feeling loopy and numb. I had the nurse call Papi Love to tell him I was okay and asked for my phone so I could call him myself. I felt like my hands were all thumbs trying to use my phone, but finally managed to type “Da” which brought up his number. He was frantic and was talking about coming to the hospital and I told him I was fine and that he should stick to the original plan of coming that next morning. I still was not aware of what had happened to me, but he was from the Nurse’s call. My last visit of that evening was the surgeon who detailed all of my internal injuries and how he had to remove some organs because they were too damaged and temporarily rearranged some organs so they could rest and heal. He told me that I still would need to have another surgery in 6 months or so, but that he did the best he could to not alter my body too much and compromise my quality of life. I remember crying, because I still didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but I knew it was serious. As he was exiting my hospital room, the surgeon stated, “oh I meant to ask you, what was the name of that song you were singing?” I responded with “what song?”, as my mind was mushy and I could barely remember my name at this point. He said, “when we woke you up from surgery you were singing a song about a little star or something. It was a sweet little song. The surgical team really enjoyed hearing your little voice. That let us know you were going to be okay, because we were worried to be honest.” I smiled at him as he left the room and then got tickled at myself thinking, “Kai, you damn near died and your innate response was singing “Little Star”. I hummed myself to sleep that night too singing the melody… Little Star Shining in the sky above So far From all the things you love In your heart Although it’s dark I’m your Little Star… The next morning as the sun rose bright and my mind returned, I was determined to figure out what really happened to me in layman’s terms. A Sister nurse had just begun her shift at 7am and I asked her why hadn’t I needed to go to the washroom yet. She chuckled and said matter of factly, “because you have a catheter”. I guess she could tell by my face that this “Little Star” wasn’t so amused. She then got really serious and said, “so they didn’t tell you what happened?” I told her the surgeon spent about an hour with me telling me a lot of information, but that I was not following him all the way. So she explained all of my injuries to me, what was gone, what was left, and why I had 7 bags of antibiotics running into my body. The nurse explained that it would probably be several days before I was released from the hospital because my infection was serious, I kept a fever, my blood pressure had spiked too high, and all my blood work was still rather abnormal. Papi Love was a mess and started smoking again because he was so worried. I felt so guilty that I was worrying my elderly Father who himself is not in the best of health. Everyone who came to see me in the hospital could barely look me in the eyes, and those who did always had tears or general sadness in theirs. Eight days later I was released from the hospital barely walking and in extreme pain. A gentle giant got me home from the hospital and settled in. I was told that I would not be able to work or drive for up to 2 months and that home care nursing would be assigned to me. As a super independent spirit it pained me to have to depend on people to do things for me. But people showed up and showed out. Not just people who I have known and loved me for a long time, but surprisingly new bonds were formed with people who cared enough about me to inconvenience themselves or just generally inquire if I needed anything. I certainly needed that dose of humanity because I was becoming dubious from all of my activism work. Maybe about four weeks into my recovery, I was having a conversation with a friend and explained how I had started to work on my EP and had the concept all planned out. But since the surgery, I wasn’t feeling that concept or the music anymore. He suggested to start over and take advantage of my recovery time and get my album together. I was afraid and lacked confidence in myself, but most importantly because I have a 12 inch scar vertically and a 4 inch scar horizontally down my abdomen, I knew I was not going to have the air to speak loudly or sing at full capacity. However with his encouragement, I started to look for music anyways and the words, melodies, harmonies just started bubbling out. I came across a track that fellow artist, Savant Furlow, had shared with me in 2015 asking my opinion on the song. He was getting ready to release his second project, “Sophomore” and was finalizing his track list. I had provided him some initial feedback on the track, but it didn’t make the project. I re-listened to the track and 5 minutes later had some bars that I thought complimented his style and flow. I nervously sent it to him, and he responded “we have to get into the studio!” So on February 6, 2016, Savant and I recorded “GATORS” at Tye Hill Studio. From that studio session, I booked three more studio sessions informing the producer, Tye Hill, that I needed to have an EP out before my birthday on March 20. Tye looked at me like I was crazy and was like, “yeah ok”. So on 2/8/16, 2/15/16, and 2/20/16 I spent 6 hours each day recording my music. It was a challenge, my energy was super low and I was in pain. My voice was not the strongest, followed shortly by my low confidence level. Tye was honest, patient, and encouraging. And it all worked out. I did it!!! I am too excited and extremely grateful to have the opportunity to share a piece of my soul. I titled my project “Little Star” because I have always had a connection to one little star in the sky and it was affirmed from the surgeon when I woke up not cognizant of my surroundings or injuries, but still singing that song.