I can confidently say that there is no bs when it comes to classical training, technique, and ability. It’s simply an artist and their craft — no computer programming, no quantizing, no “fixing it”, auto-tune, or any of that cheat-sheet 21st century “hey I’m a DJ now” kind of garbage…

It seems that when one loses sight of gratefulness — appreciation for what one has, what one experiences, and what one enjoys — then one loses the capacity for love.

It’s sometime past 1:30am and I’m driving over the bridge that separates Folly Beach from the mainland. My boxers are soaked through and there’s sand in my shoes. The whole car smells like the ocean, but there’s cool air passing through the top of my window and I look out across the bay and see the lights of a house reflecting on the water. Happy birthday to me…

It was a week of quiet, isolated repetition: waking up on my mattress on the floor, visiting Aprilkind Cafe in the mornings and Fargo at night, catching the last of the afternoon light in the cold December air. I remember it all just so…

Watching this vid feels like melting brie over a $200 cracker du jour. Whatever it is, this tune has got it…

My fondest memories of arriving at Kindl Stuben are actually of the more dark, wintery nights of Berlin.  There’s a certain feeling of rounding that final corner onto Sonnenallee—jacket pulled tight—the wind cuts across your face, and as you glance up…