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no one swims the sea as I can
This review makes me happy: MOSS OF MOONLIGHT is a two piece Black / Folk Metal band out of Bellingham, Washington. I was blown away after one listen of this disc. I have become a huge fan of Black /...
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goat is my co-pilot
Ever wondered why I’m a metal drummer? Is it all the thunder god sex? Amazing (uh-mazing?) as that was–no. I’m really just in it for the terrifying amounts of asparagus pizza, delivered by flying...
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dope wars for writers
Starvation, thievery and tyranny of the internet. Or, slaughtering the children of firefox (don’t worry, for every one I kill seven more rise up). Consider these zombie-links: Speechless: Writing...
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earsex 1
Because I like musical promiscuity. Sharing. I’ve got headphones in my ribcage, nestled around my blood-organ. This is what it’s listening to as of now (also, if you’ve ever wanted to hear me sing,...
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Ekphrastic 21/With the End in Mind
Cure this crevasse this gut-worm cure it with wolf-shadows, a hole carved into ‘home.’ I sleep stomach to stomach. Terrarium implant. A bed of fiddleheads. *** This is what I listen to when I’m...
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ungulates undulating
Sketching hoofed-beasts in preparation for designing Moss of Moonlight’s new shirt (to go along with the album release of Winterwheel).
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when art just won’t leave you alone
When it comes to food, sex and traffic lights, I’m patient. I don’t get road rage, except in the context of environmental mauling. But when it comes to art, food, and sex, I’m impatient. I’ve been...
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Plan B: Seduce a Warlord
I used to tell myself that art was a good substitute for love. That if I didn’t find someone, I’d just drum harder and write with blood in my pen. But on the days I felt particularly hysterical and...
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Arctic Salvage
Saw two of my favorite bands back-to-back in late September. Day one, I waited against El Corazon’s freshly painted walls, slightly sticky and pungent, the alternate scrape of brick and splinters...
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Photo Blog: August and Some September
In June, I graduated from my Master’s program (in folklore). Traveled to the (Oregon) coast for some time by the sea and by the fire. Then I took a thirty four hour train to San Diego, where I wrote...
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