Old notebooks first: pen, paper, random scrawls and marginalia. This is where those pages start to live in type. Sometimes the handwriting sits next to the words.
A lyric that opens a door. A phrase that completes a circle. An overheard line that suddenly belongs with something else. A post that becomes a rabbit hole and comes out the other side with more than you had going in.
I write from personal experience — simply, and in a way that feels true to the moment. If something here introduces you to a record, a book, a person, or a way of seeing, that’s the point.
The professional work lives elsewhere. This is the personal site.
gabba gabba hey. Be decent.