Why I’m here
I like to make people laugh and cry, so I play a fair amount of music and, however desultorily, write—plays, personal essays, stories, all sorts of stuff. On the cusp of early old age [that phrase sounds evasive], I still read my drafts aloud, bellowing and howling up in my atelier, rather to my family’s dismay.
Why you’re here
Come look over my shoulder if you like, fall off your chair. I value an audience, and I need help to make something beautiful, terrible, or epiphanic. Give me your clear-eyed attention, your honesty. That’s all I ask.
Note the “Contact me” page should you, um, want to contact me.