Selected Works
The source material and album art for "Esme," was captured during a trip to Bodø, Norway in 2019. The piece features wedding speeches, corner store sounds, echoing hallways, and more, all of which influenced the structure and energy of each movement in this track.
In early 2020, a group of artists and I got the opportunity to visit Francisco Martínez of Taller Pitao Copycha, a famous pottery studio outside of Oaxaca City. We watched him work giant chunks of clay over water and tell jokes. We tried our hands at it too. We all laughed at our total inability to do so, but we also laughed at our total ability to do so. That's what you hear in this recording. I think about that day regularly. Lorena, CJ, Sarah G...all asking good questions and working the wet clay in the sun. I remember CJ asking me about an "underwater recording device," I didn't think they existed then, but I know that they do now. Last year, I moved into my dream house. The house is cold and hot and tall and has lots of problems. I finished this track in the living room and I felt that it needed a singer so I asked Landon to really sing on it. He sang through the fiddle and it was beautiful and strained and fierce. That's what you hear in this recording. This trip to Oaxaca was made possible by the Pocoapoco artist residency..
Live recording of a forever unfinished song of mine, "Crownmaker." This song has roots back to 2018 and has been performed in a variety of ways over the years. I hope to never finish it, even though the words are finished. I've played it live many times and every time it's different, which is nice because the song deals with giref and grief is also always different (depending on the year).
"Crownmaker" Before I get better. Before I run my hands through the ashes of your body, And leave you, on the beach, forever, to think, forever. I’d like to lift you, my only child, towards my shelf of poetry. Towards my collection of white shirts hanging in the garden. I'd like to lift you, small thing, towards my friends, who are here, somewhere, everywhere, at the beach, by the shore, slowly swimming in the cold water. Before I get better. Before the ocean pulls at you, grain by grain, towards whatever, while I wave goodbye, but before I stop waving goodbye, before I release you, I’d like to be of use to you, and take you to the store. I'd like to take you to the store, like my father would, and watch you hand me things I can't afford. And before you go, before you go, I'd like to teach you everything I know about chickens, which is very little, but I need you to know everything that I know before I walk away from you, towards my car, and drive away. Before I drive away, my only child, I'd like to hold you, for the first time, just to have you be more real than you were before. I'd like to lift you, small thing, towards the mirror, and see your small hand press against your small hand, and we can laugh, and I can bounce you, fat baby, in my giant arms. Before I get better. Before I apologize for failing you, I'd like to apologize for not failing you. I'd like to take you, my coral reef, down the street, towards the restaurant, and feed you beans, rice, shrimp, sangria, whatever you want, before you go away, since you have to go away, and I understand, to the deep, I'll teach you how to floss your teeth. If your gums bleed, you can wipe them on my shirt, and keep it, take it with you, towards the islands. Before I get better. I'd like to walk with you to the mountain, and hear you tell stories, and hear you complain about your job, and hear you say whatever you want to say, since your voice, to me, at this point, is imaginary. Speak to me, here, at the cliffs, where we have to agree to go our separate ways, my only child, you left a long time ago, and I will always love you, fat baby, simple swan, I will always love you, small thing, gorgeous rind, I will always love you, cave dweller, salt water kid, crown maker.