You guys! I would be THRILLED if you helped me kick off my birthday week by coming out to this show. My exceptionally talented friend Caroline Spence will be in town promoting her new album Spades and Roses (which is crazy stupid good btw). We'll be sharing a show at the new Java Joe's in Old Town. The FB invite is here, you can buy tix at the door, or you can visit Java Joe's website to find out how to reserve tix. See you soon! 

Here's a sample of a song that was written for the explicit purpose of processing some very personal feelings about a very specific experience. Probably not a song I'll ever play out because the verses are too specific to be relatable, but I think everyone can relate to the chorus. We all have to go through life figuring out how to let go of pain and anger. Sometimes it feels better to just throw up a white flag and peace out on a situation that doesn't feel right. Other times it feels more worthwhile to stick around and see what can be salvaged. Either way, you just gotta go with your gut. 

This one's pretty self-explanatory. A little love letter to my wife for being just the absolute best thing a person could ever come home to.

My former partner and bandmate recently had an article come out for her solo record, and I objectively observed how 6 jam-packed years of shared experiences with her was so easily whittled down to a few sentences. It didn't make me feel sad as much as it made me feel so distant from a place I was once neck-deep in. I started thinking about how that kind of stuff happens over and over again in our lifetimes. How stories we're so immersed in become tiny little footnotes. How each skin we shed is full of so many experiences that are just left to die in order to grow new skin. So much gets left out in order to make room for more. Who's the real author? Are we writers or our own destiny, is it fate, God, a mix? That's sort of what I'm alluding to with the whole "dot above the i" thing.