ignatoff

[ignatoff]

I remember it clearly — it was around 1:30am. I had just finished my fourth beat ever. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like something. I had poured hours into it, tweaking every sound, trying to translate a feeling I couldn’t even name. My heart was racing when I bounced it to mp3.

I opened SoundCloud. Uploaded it. Picked a name that felt deep (maybe “empty rooms” or “for no one” — I don’t remember anymore). Hit “post.”

Then I did what every new artist does. I refreshed.

And refreshed.

And kept refreshing.

Nothing. No likes. No reposts. Not even a “yo this kinda sucks.” Just… silence.

At first, I told myself maybe people were asleep. Then maybe I used the wrong tags. Then I started spiraling — maybe I wasn’t good. Maybe this wasn’t for me. Maybe I should delete it all before anyone does hear it.

I almost quit that night.

But something small — like really small — told me not to. It wasn’t hope, really. Just… curiosity. I thought:

“What if the next one is better?”

So I kept going. One more beat. One more post. One more night.

And little by little, people started noticing. Not a crowd, not a label, just… someone. One person saying “this hit me.” One reblog with the tag “this feels like insomnia.”

That was enough to keep going again.

If you’re reading this and your art feels invisible — I’ve been there.

Just keep showing up. For yourself, if no one else.

Sometimes silence is just the part before someone says, “I needed

[ignatoff]

Talent in the right environment, with the right people, can lead to breakthroughs

[ignatoff]

How breakup accidentally made me a musician and that could be the best course of action in my life

Two years ago, I wasn’t trying to become an artist.

I wasn’t chasing streams, or thinking about melodies, or learning EQ curves. I was just... sitting in a quiet apartment with too much free time and a heart I didn’t know what to do with.

She had left. Just distance, silence, and a "take care."

Suddenly, my nights were quiet in a way that felt loud. If you’ve been there, you know what I mean — that kind of silence that wraps around your chest and won’t let go.

So I opened my laptop one night and downloaded some random software. I think it was FL Studio. I watched a video of someone turning a simple piano loop into a full track. Something about that clicked. It felt like control — like I could take how I felt and do something with it, instead of just letting it echo in my head.

The first beat I made was trash. But it felt good. The second one made me cry. The third one? I still have it saved — it’s raw, kind of off, but it was the first time I felt like I was speaking in a language that made sense.

Now, two years later, I’m still here. Still making music at 2am. Still chasing feelings through sound. Still trying to turn pain into something you can move to, cry to, heal to.

I didn’t choose music. The music chose me, in the quietest, loneliest moment of my life.

If you're reading this and you’re in that same kind of silence… Try creating something. Even if it sucks at first. You never know what it might turn into.