{"id":1383,"date":"2026-10-23T12:13:05","date_gmt":"2026-10-23T09:13:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.tequilla11.com\/?page_id=1383"},"modified":"2026-10-23T12:21:28","modified_gmt":"2026-10-23T09:21:28","slug":"about","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.tequilla11.com\/es\/about\/","title":{"rendered":"About tequilla11"},"content":{"rendered":"

Where the Light Begins: A Sunrise on the Black Sea and the Music It Gave Me<\/h1>\n

There is a moment, just before the sun breaks the horizon, when the sea goes quiet. The waves keep moving, but the noise in your head stops. The sky turns from violet to rose to gold, and for a few minutes nothing is asked of you. That moment is where my sunrise chillout music<\/strong> is born. I stand at the water’s edge with my headphones on, the cold sand under my feet and the Black Sea in front of me, and I listen: first to the morning, then to the music it wants to become.<\/p>\n

This is the story of that ritual, and of the two songs that came out of it: When The Sun Remembers<\/strong> and I Put The Night Down<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\"Classical<\/a>
tequilla11 from behind in headphones and a glowing logo hoodie, facing a golden sunrise over the sea<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

A Ritual at the Edge of the Sea<\/h2>\n

I am tequilla11, an independent electronic music producer and composer living on the coast of the Black Sea. I was born in Salzburg, trained in classical music as a child, and I have been behind the decks since the 1980s. I have heard a lot of sunrises through a lot of speakers. Very few of them changed me the way the quiet ones on this beach did.<\/p>\n

In February 2026, for personal reasons, a new chapter began for me. I started walking to the shore before dawn, almost every day. No phone calls, no plan. Just headphones, the hoodie with my logo, and the horizon. What I found there was not inspiration in the dramatic sense. It was something softer and more honest: permission to feel everything again.<\/p>\n

Why the Sunrise and Not the Sunset<\/h3>\n

Balearic music has always loved the sunset: the closing of the day, the glass raised to the sea. I love it too. But the sunrise tells a different story. It is not an ending, it is a return. After the longest night, the light comes back without asking whether you deserve it. That idea sits at the heart of everything I write in this style.<\/p>\n

“When The Sun Remembers was born out of a desire to create a sonic space where listeners can slow down, breathe, and remember that no matter how long the night lasts, the light always returns.” \u2013 tequilla11<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

When The Sun Remembers: The Song That Started It All<\/h2>\n

When The Sun Remembers<\/strong> was conceived on one of those early morning walks along the Black Sea. I had carried a heavy night down to the water, and as the first light touched the waves, a melody arrived almost complete. I recorded the feeling before I recorded the notes.<\/p>\n

The track captures the transition from isolation to radiant light. It opens in stillness, with warm pads that feel like the last blue minutes before dawn. Then the strings begin to rise, the piano finds its line, and a close, breathy female voice carries the song upward until it opens into a wide, euphoric chorus. That voice is where Aurelyn was born. When I heard it rise over the strings, I knew it had to stay: I took the voice of When The Sun Remembers and shaped it into Aurelyn, the AI voice of my sunrise sound. Her name comes from aurum<\/em> (gold) and aurora<\/em> (dawn).<\/p>\n