Meet Ron Blakely

We were lucky to catch up with Ron Blakely recently and have shared our conversation below.

Ron, so good to have you with us today. We’ve always been impressed with folks who have a very clear sense of purpose and so maybe we can jump right in and talk about how you found your purpose?

The idea of purpose has been coming up a lot for me lately. It’s something that I deeply believe in: that we’re all here for a reason, and the way of finding that is by doing what feels authentic to you. I don’t think it’s something you suddenly find one day. For me, it revealed itself slowly through lived experience.

Music was always there and touched something deep within me. From childhood, I loved to sing. I was a shy kid, but singing always made me feel grounded while also connecting me to something that felt beyond the physical. I didn’t have the language for that feeling at the time, but whenever I sang, especially lyrics that resonated, I felt transported. It was like I was connecting to something bigger than myself that also lived inside of me. When I started writing my own music, that connection only grew deeper.

Over the past several years, I’ve moved through a lot of grief and change. I lost my mom in early 2020, just before the global COVID-19 pandemic, and then COVID took my dad a year later. That kind of loss and isolation forced me to look at my life differently. It became a wake-up call. It stripped away a lot of the noise around me, and made me ask myself what actually matters and how I want to show up in the world.

What I kept coming back to were moments of connection. When did I feel most at peace? When I was with the people I love—laughing, crying, eating, sharing stories, singing. And during that period of isolation, I had to learn how to find that connection even when I was alone. I started reconnecting with myself, with my spirit, and with what felt most true.

During this time, I started writing a song called “Carry This.” At first, I kept it close. It felt too personal, almost like it existed just for me as a way to process everything I was carrying. I didn’t even want to share it. But eventually, I was asked to perform my original music for a showcase, and I decided to sing that song. While I was performing, I saw a man in the crowd with tears pouring down his face. I was so overwhelmed that I’m honestly surprised I got through the song without crying myself. After the show, he came up top me and gave me the biggest hug. He told me he had also just lost his mom only few months ago. He said he was meant to be there. In that moment, something clicked for me. I realized the song wasn’t just for me. Sharing what was on my heart and doing what I loved had a deeper purpose. Other people needed it too. It was about telling the truth deeply enough that someone else could find themselves in it.

That was the moment I understood that my purpose is rooted in alignment with my truth, my values, and who I am. That alignment creates impact. It’s not just about singing songs. It’s about creating spaces where people feel seen, understood, and a little less alone in whatever they’re carrying. What’s kept me grounded in that is the belief that if I just show up and share my music and my story as honestly as I can, the people that need it will receive it. I don’t need to focus on anything that does not resonate.

That realization has shaped the way I approach everything now. “Carry This” became the heart of my upcoming project, BLUE. It’s rooted in grief, resilience, healing, and the full spectrum of emotion. The more honest I am in my work, the more I see it resonate with others. That’s what keeps guiding me forward, and that’s how I continue to find purpose in what I do.

Thanks for sharing that. So, before we get any further into our conversation, can you tell our readers a bit about yourself and what you’re working on?

I’m an artist, a singer, songwriter, storyteller, and ultimately just a human being learning to follow what feels natural to me. My music lives at the intersection of spirituality, vulnerability, and connection. Whether I’m performing with my band, collaborating with other artists, or sharing an intimate acoustic set, my goal is always the same: to create a space where people can feel something real.

I love the exchange of energy that happens when music is shared honestly. There’s something powerful, I would even say spiritual, about a group of strangers gathering in the same space and recognizing themselves in a song. I’ve always believed that art has the ability to heal, and as I’ve grown as an artist, I’ve become more intentional about using music to create those moments of connection.

A lot of my work right now is centered around my upcoming project, BLUE. It’s a deeply personal body of work inspired by grief, resilience, and the process of healing. The songs explore the emotional spectrum of what it means to carry loss while still choosing to move forward with hope. Creating this project has been incredibly cathartic, and I’m excited to finally share it.

I’m also part of a corporate and wedding cover band called the Playlist Band, alongside two of my closest friends, Kat Carmona and Chris Floyd. Through that project, we collaborate with many incredibly talented musicians, and it’s grown into a network of gifted, beautiful people that I truly consider family.

Live performance is a huge part of my artistic identity. I’ve performed solo, with a full band, and with Playlist at casinos, restaurants, theatres, corporate events, and intimate venues. Some of my favorite moments happen on stage when a room goes quiet and you can feel that everyone is fully present with the music. Those shared moments are what remind me why I do this.

Right now, I’m continuing to write, collaborate, perform, and build my live performance résumé. I’m also curating special live events that bring together storytelling, community, and music. I recently had the opportunity to curate a show with Sofar Sounds LA, which was especially meaningful because it allowed me not only to share my own work, but also to spotlight artists and friends I deeply admire. I also have several curated events in the work, some centered around queer artists (a community I’m deeply proud to be part of), and others focused on spiritual practice through music and the theme of healing. Ultimately, I want to uplift voices from communities that are often overlooked. As someone who holds multiple identities, I’ve come to understand that simply showing up, fully, honestly, and unapologetically, is the first step in that work.

At its core, my goal for my brand is to be rooted in authenticity and connection. I want the music, the performances, and the spaces I create to feel honest, human, and welcoming. If someone walks away from one of my shows feeling a little more connected to themselves or a little less alone, then I know I’ve done what I came here to do.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

Looking back, three things stand out as being especially impactful in my journey: honesty, resilience, and community.

The first is honesty. The more I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable in my music, the more meaningful the work has become. Early on, it can feel scary to share the deeper parts of your story, but that’s often where the most powerful art lives. My advice to anyone early in their journey is to resist the urge to create what you think people want to hear and instead focus on what feels true to you. Authenticity is what people ultimately connect with.

The second is resilience. Life is going to bring challenges, loss, and moments where your path feels uncertain. For me, losing both of my parents within a year of each other changed the way I see everything. There were moments where it would have been easy to step away from music entirely, but continuing to create helped me process what I was going through and find meaning in it. If you’re early in your journey, understand that setbacks are part of the process. Growth often comes from the moments that feel the hardest.

The third is community. None of us do this alone. Some of the most meaningful parts of my journey have come through collaborating with other artists and building genuine relationships. The people you surround yourself with can inspire you, challenge you, and support you when things get difficult. My advice is to find your people: artists, friends, mentors, and invest in those relationships. When creativity is rooted in community, it becomes something much bigger than any one individual.

For me, those three things: honesty, resilience, and community, continue to shape the way I approach my work and my life. When those elements are present, the art feels more aligned, and the journey feels much more meaningful.

To close, maybe we can chat about your parents and what they did that was particularly impactful for you?

Trying to sum up the most impactful thing my parents did for me into one statement feels almost impossible. They did so much. They provided for me, they kept me safe, and most importantly, they loved me deeply.

Growing up, they encouraged my love for music. They saw how much joy singing brought me and never treated it like it was something irrelevant or something I needed to grow out of. That kind of encouragement is incredibly powerful for a young person. It gave me permission to trust the things that lit me up inside.

It wasn’t perfect. My dad, especially, wanted me to pursue something more practical, something stable, maybe in the medical field. At times, especially when I was younger, that made me feel like he didn’t fully support my path. But as I’ve gotten older, and even after his passing, I’ve come to understand him more deeply. Despite his concerns, he never stopped me from doing what I loved. He would always remind me that the only person I leave this world with is myself, so I have to choose what feels right for me. He just wanted me to strive to be my best, and he instilled in me the belief that if I’m doing my best, at my capacity, then I’m doing right.

My mom was my biggest supporter. She came to every show, no matter what, even as her health began to decline. She would always tell me, “I know you’re going to make it, son.” More than that, she encouraged me to be fully myself. She was the first person in my family I came out to. I had planned to tell her over dinner, but I ended up telling her over the phone. Her response was simply, “Why not? That’s the way God made you.” She showed me what unconditional love truly looks like. I always felt the safest and most myself when I was with her.

Even now, as I continue to unlearn the limitations life and the world can place on us, my parents are the foundation of that inner work. They weren’t perfect, none of us are, but they loved me the best way they knew how.

They also taught me resilience and compassion through the way they lived. They showed me what it means to care deeply for others, to show up for the people you love, and to keep moving forward through difficult seasons. I am always running into people from their lives who tell me how much of an impact they made on their lives.

After losing both of them, I’ve come to realize just how much of them lives on in me. Their love, their lessons, and their spirits continue to shape how I move through the world and how I approach my art. In many ways, the music I create now feels like a continuation of that love, a way of honoring them and carrying them forward.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.ronblakely.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ronblakely
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ronblakelymusic

Image Credits

Bailey Drew (@baileydrewphotos), Carleigh Hyser (@chc.agency), Michael Wolfe (@wolfeden.media).