Best Dead Masterpiece.

Here it is, Everyone. The culmination of almost 18 months of work from composition to release. Like most of my material, it's not a happy album, but a cathartic album. I heard someone use the term "vent art" the other night, and this might be that. I have also become fond of calling what I... Continue Reading →

We Need to Talk about Tori Amos.

My sound engineer sent me the mastered tracks for my review this weekend, and all is a go. So it is possible the full-length album, Best Dead Masterpiece, will be up on BandCamp before the end of this coming week, marking the end of an undertaking that started in - hard to believe now -... Continue Reading →

My Holiday Single Release, or: How Hans Christian Andersen Got Me Into Glam (with Some Unlikely Tie-Ins to Other Media)

Full disclosure: I’ve never really liked “The Little Matchgirl” as a story title. It sounds diminutive and sentimental and tailor-made for someone's romanticized notion of a quintessential “girl-child.” That said, HTV’s The Little Matchgirl (1986) is bursting with things that that title would never suggest. As much as a made-for-TV movie musical can be, it’s... Continue Reading →

I Said I Wasn’t Going to Do This.

I had no intention of writing about Charlie Kaufman's I'm Thinking of Ending Things, which I watched over the weekend. In fact, having been discouraged by the trailer with its seemingly affected aesthetic and almost comic timing, I nearly didn't watch the film at all - but acquiesced after some new information reignited my hope.... Continue Reading →

Bodily Autonomy Triptych

I don't watch movies often these days. Documentaries are more my go-to, but even they are far between. This weekend, though, I was very in the mood to watch things and, in fact, to do little else. Now I'm reflecting on my viewing choices, wondering if they were in some way connected. As you know,... Continue Reading →

And, Scene.

I moved to Charlottesville from my rural, south-central-VA county in December 2008, to take a job I'd just landed. In my head, I'd defied odds. I saw myself as a cripplingly cerebral but practically useless pseudo-adult. I felt my brain, in its small-town country stupor-cum-recluse's atrophy, couldn't process fast enough for my survival. I doubted... Continue Reading →

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