I've always found it easier to talk about my work in poetry, which I hear sometimes in the studio.




There is a tension between order and everything falling apart.

I wrote you a letter.

Please read it from left to right.

It’s a sequence of thoughts, A sequence of numbers,

A sequence of shapes.

Please read between the lines.

The words are unimportant.

As weightless as a leaf of paper.

It’s the marks that matter.

It’s the trace of hand,

The persistence of voice

In the face of peril and time.




singing underground


It’s good to see you again

I’ve been gone so long

But I’m home now


Yes, like Persephone

It’s dark here, mm-hmmm

And quiet

No one minds if you spend whole days

Lost in the overwhelming beauty of ordinary life

And there is plenty of room for failure

Regrets even

I did not want you to worry about that