There are three things in life I absolutely adore.

Music is an obvious one. Human creativity knows no bounds, and my greatest asset? My ears.

(Gary Lineker says the same thing, apparently.)

I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if music didn’t exist — and I’m forever grateful to have grown up in a world where J Dilla, the hip hop artist and producer, walked among us. I’ve never connected with anyone’s work like I do Dilla.

Unsurprisingly, I’m building two businesses with music as the beating heart, and I’m halfway through building a third, designed purely to improve the first two. I’ve made music my day-to-day. That’s not lost on me. I’m lucky and so, so grateful.

Business is another passion.

I’ve always been fascinated by the way society’s man-made laws let people like you and me invent our own path; dream up our own journey and destiny, through our own ideas around how we can serve people with time-saving services and life-improving products. That’s magic. We don’t talk about that enough. Do you realise how rare it is, historically, to be able to invent a life like this?

Every day, I wake up motivated, inspired, and hungry to build.

The third love?

Obvious, if you’ve spoken to me for more than two minutes: cars. A heap of beautifully moulded metal with four wheels is, and always has been, my guiding star.

My childhood dream was to start my own sports car company. As beautiful as Aston, but shed-scrappy like a Noble. I planned my whole education around it. I wanted to be able to design and build a car from scratch in a garage by 18.

That didn’t quite happen — but I did figure something out: it made more sense to make the money first, then build the car brand later. So that’s my retirement plan. I may never do it, but I’ll die trying.

Now, the thing that ties all these passions together might sound like it should be me. But it’s not. It’s my beautiful mum.

She’s the one person who’s shaped it all.

We used to dance around the house when I was a toddler, cleaning to De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, TLC, Sugababes, All Saints. The music would bleed through the walls, drift down the driveway, and soundtrack our weekend mornings.

She never once made my dreams feel too big. “You want to design cars?” she’d say, while pulling out stacks of blank A3 paper and a box of HB pencils, laying them out in the back garden one summer, whilst we sunbathed and listened to music.

She taught me that chasing what you love is the point. That nothing is more important than finding the thing that sets your soul on fire.

And because of her, I did — even though her risk appetite isn’t anywhere near as large as mine.

Because of her, I’ve started my own businesses. I own a small handful of my dream cars. I live a life I truly enjoy — one she helped shape with every instinct she had.

These days, one of my favourite things to do when the sun comes out is drive down to Caswell with her; the same beach we used to picnic on, come rain or shine, when I was very little.

It’s not just nostalgia. It’s grounding. It’s home.

Thanks for everything, Mum.

With love,
Jordan