Winterhouse by dead lizard grin

Here are decayed lullabies for a faded world, blown across the trembling air. Here is a score for a dreamed-of-film made only of endings.

Here is a canticle for dust-scattered towns strewn with cadavers of nostalgia. Here is a testament from terminal cities, hopelessly pregnant with the bones of dying technology.

Here is a first-person transcript dispatched from the great, cold spaces between suns. Here is a cenotaph to lives that became fragments of forgotten wholes.

I grew up in the Midwest of America. I've lived in the remote Manu'a Islands in the South Pacific and Southern California.

My youth was experienced through the sonic lens of '70s European electronic music, the ambient sounds of Eno, and the darker side of '80s new wave, post punk, and new romantic.

Today, I create the soundtrack for my life; an accompaniment for the existence that I've known.

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