On a sweltering subway ride, a man experiences a fleeting connection with a well-dressed woman. As they navigate the crowded car, memories of youthful attraction resurface, ignited by an undeniable magnetism between them. Ultimately, they share an unspoken agreement and exit together, hinting at an unexpected adventure.
Watch the blonde lady, summer dress, no shoes and walking on the boardwalk. She stops and holds onto the railing staring into the ocean horizon.
“Looking back is never good, it leaves a salty bitter taste and can do no one no good.”
Morning comes lukewarm, everything muted and familiar. We move through these halls on habit alone, counting days that blur together. This piece sits in that pause—right before the door opens—when the ghosts of expectation loosen and something unnamed begins to stir.
Fountains of the lukewarm, we drink each day. Tepid coffee, morning exchanges, countdown’s until Friday. It’s barely 9 in the morning on Monday and the target is to get to the end of the week. Another end. Time, time is constant, I’ve been told. How come some days can feel so fleeting while others can… Read more: Rivers and Fountains
I wrote some words for her, some rhymed and some didn’t – but they each had a purpose and ended with a meaning or answers to some questions. We shared some wine, got physical drinking in a stew brewed with physicality and a spirituality from another dimension. In a hotel room, behind a tree in… Read more: It Fell Apart
We take the hard road because it’s who we are and we live by our truth. I could’ve been so many other people, but I chose myself instead. Look Down, No Fear
The junkyard melody plays softly with a passion once felt, a long long time ago. They put you out to pasture and forgot about your past. The ticking of the clock gets louder with each passing moment. The relevancy of who you are, who you were and who you never can be; lost in the… Read more: Junkyard Melody
Music has always been a vital part of my life—a way to express my mood or navigate my feelings at any given time. While I appreciate the wordless genius of John Coltrane and Duke Ellington, I’ve always been drawn to lyrics. I grew up on a steady diet of Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, and Elton John.
“A cup of coffee, lost photographs, and the ghosts we smile at when we reach the crossroads.”
On a sweltering subway ride, a man experiences a fleeting connection with a well-dressed woman. As they navigate the crowded car, memories of youthful attraction resurface, ignited by an undeniable magnetism between them. Ultimately, they share an unspoken agreement and exit together, hinting at an unexpected adventure.
Watch the blonde lady, summer dress, no shoes and walking on the boardwalk. She stops and holds onto the railing staring into the ocean horizon. “Looking back is never good, it leaves a salty bitter taste and can do no one no good.”
The scene is set. A broken prophecy, an open door, and a lady with a secret. The storm is coming, but she is ready.
Morning comes lukewarm, everything muted and familiar. We move through these halls on habit alone, counting days that blur together. This piece sits in that pause—right before the door opens—when the ghosts of expectation loosen and something unnamed begins to stir.
Dedicated to Mrs Mae Singer
Fountains of the lukewarm, we drink each day. Tepid coffee, morning exchanges, countdown’s until Friday. It’s barely 9 in the morning on Monday and the target is to get to the end of the week. Another end. Time, time is constant, I’ve been told. How come some days can feel so fleeting while others can… Read more: Rivers and Fountains
thoughts and inspirations
The junkyard melody plays softly with a passion once felt, a long long time ago. They put you out to pasture and forgot about your past. The ticking of the clock gets louder with each passing moment. The relevancy of who you are, who you were and who you never can be; lost in the… Read more: Junkyard Melody
Gratitude, we forget to express, too often. We are too busy making it through the day to realize just how much we have to be thankful for.
Music has always been a vital part of my life—a way to express my mood or navigate my feelings at any given time. While I appreciate the wordless genius of John Coltrane and Duke Ellington, I’ve always been drawn to lyrics. I grew up on a steady diet of Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, and Elton John.
