Hello.
I play the drums.
I write music.
I teach drumset lessons.
I learn every day.
And I really do enjoy longs walks on the beach.-I think a goal of mine that has been emerging over the last year or so is to explore what it means to be creative. How it feels physically, emotionally and mentally for myself and anyone I remember to ask. It's (so far) been endlessly fascinating to me to look into this part of being human. If you feel comfortable doing so, please let me know what being creative means to you, how it feels when you are creative. I want to know about the process in others as I explore it in myself.-I think if i had a long term goal it would be to find ways to use my creativity to help
others get in touch with theirs. Not exactly sure how yet, am slowly getting ideas.-I remember dancing to Bola Sete in my kitchen when I was 10 years old. Rhythm has always moved me in an intensely visceral way. From the gut. I got my first drumset around 11 years old and began a journey that continues to this day.-Writing music has been an exercise in learning to trust myself, a process that continues, ebbs and flows everyday.-I keep a journal and my blogs reflect that inner processing I do with words on my own in a personal way that I try and share with others here in myspace land.-The songs you hear on this page have not been changed in a while, so....patience please. They will eventually.-I am a late bloomer. I am in bud state at the present moment. I should hit my stride when I'm 60 I think. Hope you're around to share that with me.------------------------------------------------------------
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Wild Geese
by Mary OliverYou do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
