Momma, do I know where you are?

the slow burn of old glory II

the slow burn of old glory I

we love those who dance the tarantella

I smell bread (farewell from the front)

do not underestimate the irish my friends

the life and times of a fidgity fuzz

make america again/fallen arches

Nautical almanac, ink and daggers

Nothing at all happens here

sounds for a lonesome night drive across the desert...

the indifference of synthetic sanctimony

This one was started in Florida and finished in Pennsylvania. It has no instruments on it capable of a melody. Pretty neat, right?

bestcareanywhere

I died (only twenty minutes from home)

These are bits and pieces of stuff I make (I don't "write" anything), meant to be part of longer, live performances. I suppose one could call them movements. Everything you hear was recorded haphazardly by me either using the voice memo function on the iPhone or Garageband.  I'm a drummer; everything else is accidental. I took all of the photos as well...

choppers and chestwounds

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