Today is Resurrection Sunday, and as I wander the halls of this high school—waiting for the next service of church to start—I recall where I was ten years ago. I’d only been in Humble for about a month, and I had just landed a job at a high end auto-repair facility. A child.

I believe that my life was changed because of  Jesus’ resurrection, though It’s hard to say at what point this occurred. My whole life has been tied back to the sacred legend of the Ancient of Days.

He continues to change me, grow me, and promote me. By the end of it I hope to be found as a man of God free of addiction and a broken self-image.

Regardless of what happens, “...I could sing of your love forever.” 


New Teeth

This morning I’ll be playing on a new set of teeth. I had some repairs done to my traveling ghost. Aside from needing a good brushing, and something rolling around in the case, they seem to have fixed the over zealous D below middle C and the sticky B just above. 


I know more than ever, that there is a high importance to the cohesion of musicians in a band: unity in direction, repertoire, and purpose; otherwise, it’s just karaoke...

Musical Weekend

I got to see a lot of great music weekend. The first set was The Midnight who had a great opener, Violet Days. The show was so awesome; The Midnight’s catalog is filled with candy and great songs. 

What seemed to be most special was getting to sit with John Ebdon and Steven Fenly. These two artists are true to craft, and and I’m honored to call them my peers.


After them, we ate at the House of Pies. which is always the best.


It’s a wonderful thing to experience the arts.  

Old friends

These old friends have been staying in the Forest. A quick trip to recover them. Some old friends are beautiful, and some old friends are like cactus’.

Setting Up & Sitting Around

Early Sunday morning set up at Westlake.

Early Sunday morning set up at Westlake.

A big part of my musical life has been a lot of sitting around, and waiting for other musicians. It’s not a complaint, just an observation. In fact, there isn’t much to complain about these days.

So much of art is pulled from depression and angst, at least for me it has been. It’s a strange place to be whenever it’s 1:30 am, staring at my instrument from across the room, and know that there isn’t much that I need to emote about.

I’m guessing that’s good. Maybe I can hang out here for a moment.

Petroleum for my beast

I mentioned to Miryam last night that I don’t wright much as of late in my blog. In 2010 THIS INTANGIBLE EXISTENCE began as a blog.

Almost a decade later here I am.

Here I am at a place of Humble beginnings, drinking coffee from a mug that could have stood for prepress criticism.

the saddest thing is that the air is so different: an unwelcoming glare and a standard “mean girls” attitude that I was made aware of earlier today while at the mall looking at anime pariphinalia.

An previous client of mine saw me and approached. We greeted each other with a bro grab, and before we could mention much of anything else, he began to speak of he and I’s formal meeting ground. He expressed the same things I mentioned previously.

It’s fine - The beast needed a check up, and I wanted to check in…

So I I’ll just leave all of this here :)

Red hair: it’s Red Mercury season - and I’m so excited.

Red hair: it’s Red Mercury season - and I’m so excited.

…I’ll just leave this here…

…I’ll just leave this here…