Hi, person I have never met. Please make yourself at home here on my page. I wish I could offer you a cup of coffee or lemonade or whatever suits your fancy, but my computer doesn't make a very good drink dispenser. I like to believe that I'm a sensible person. Yet, before anything else, I am a musician. Picture a tattoo on my forehead stating clearly "LACKS COMMON SENSE." For example, if you open my front door and walk into my living room you are hit quite squarely by a contradiction: marble floor, silk curtains, and thoughtful artwork simply can't disguise the fact that two miles of quarter-inch and xlr cables are tangled up between several pianos, monitors, mics and guitars. If you are brave enough (or curious enough as it often happens) to venture deeper into my lair, you will see that I have no need of dusting. What falls in my house requires debooking. History, botany, music transcriptions, bios, philosophy...they blow in with the wind. I am fortunate to have the worlds most patient neighbors. If you knew them, you would never dispute my claim. After 3:00am house calls in which they remind me that even the most perfected drum beats and bass lines can carry through the walls, they still smile and treat me kindly, AND come to my shows. My friends laugh when they think of me holding a regular job - I teach piano - and I am in school working on a pharmacy degree. Don't you think that makes me responsible? It's true that I am a fishbowl teacher. The kids come and go as they please, they treat me like I am still in high school, and I never have to shovel the entry because the snow gets walked off by all the foot traffic. It is very comforting to be loved by so many people. Now, if only people loved my music. I write lyrics for you... it wouldn't hurt to listen. I compose melodies for the ageless child... come into to my wreckless world... I spin harmonies for anti-commotion... give your ears a little treat...