fulfilling a childhood dream

It’s April 18, 2026 and I’m waist deep in the Pacific ocean.

Temperatures on the Oregon coast this time of year typically range from 46-54 degrees Fahrenheit. I'm shooting a music video in full cowboy regalia, with neoprene footies for warmth.

One of those, “do as I say not as I do” kinda things — don’t try this at home, kids.

Nonetheless, there I was, determined to get the shots and surprisingly not cold. Between the jeans and long leather jacket, I was comfy and delighted to be in the sea amongst the waves.

In the time since I last wrote, I’ve worked with a producer to turn my demo into a fully produced song, hired a mastering engineer, brought on a violinist and drummer, shot the music video, registered the copyright and royalties, hired and fired a music video editor, edited a music video (work-in-progress), and now I’m making content and submitting to playlists.  

It’s a process I’ll be excited to reflect on once the dust has settled. Everyone keeps saying I must be so excited. Don't get me wrong, I am.

But it’s a bit like filming in the middle of a freezing ocean on a balmy April morning, I can’t really feel it yet. After this release is over, the exhaustion will hit me and I’ll laugh about the journey. Waist deep in the ocean, I’m still throwing hail marys to Jesus.

Having worked on this release since March and this song since 2020, the weight of what I've accomplished won't land for a while yet. But I would love to sit down with a younger version of myself just to annoy the shit out of them with, "keep going; just trust me."

The First Chapter

This song is the first chapter in a planned album that follows the hero’s journey. 

It's the Call to Action: a spaghetti-western tale about a cowboy driven to become an outlaw, narrated by a grieving mother. 

The central figure, Agnes, is unstoppable. So much so that her name becomes a bedtime story told to misbehaving children. 

For me, she’s the hero I couldn’t be for myself. 

She kicks down the door, sweeps me into her arms, and takes me away from the violence and trauma. 

I wrote it to process the total loss of control of my brain and, therefore, body. And the ways in which I was subjected to violence because of it. 

What if I had been able to protect myself? 

Agnes knows that story; Agnes tells that story. It’s a reclamation, before I talk about my experience in the album. 

Why “Agnes”?

My maternal grandmother’s name was Agnes. She was bipolar in the 40s and 50s, at a time when, well, you weren’t. 

The insane, criminal, elderly, and disabled alike were relegated to institutions during this time and subjected to heinous conditions and practices, barbaric in comparison to the already inhumane practices of today. 

Luckily, Agnes was beloved by a husband, George and four children, including my mom. 

As you might imagine, bipolar disorder unchecked and constantly fueled by the customary drinking of the times meant that the beautiful aspects of her person came with equally challenging and at times traumatic experiences for her children. 

She died six months before I was born. I got my bipolar diagnosis at 20. 

My hospitalization prior and subsequent healing after is the main subject of my album. “Agnes” is an ode to her, all she hoped to be, and all she is. 

The Legend of Agnes the Cowboy debuts August 18. 

I’m so excited to share it with you. 

Spotify listener? Pre-save it here to help boost the algorithm on day one. 

Thank you for the ongoing support; I appreciate ya’ll more than words can capture. 

With love and badassery, 

Conner

~

Psst. I renamed the newsletter The Trident 🧜🏼 since I've got quite the water theme on my website now, including sea creature support tiers.