Took too long to post this. As I grew more and more obsessed with the unfolding epic in Westeros, I became more and more enthralled with Ramin Djawadi’s score for the whole thing. Here is my tribute. 


Help us get our beloved webseries off the ground. I am lucky enough to be at the writer’s table for this ambitious project. Give whatever you can. Every bit counts. Thank you.

I had the massive privilege of writing this arrangement for Sarah Jones’ film To None But Me. I should exclusively write Irish traditionals because I just derive so much joy from the process.

Two more songs for Little Things.

For another short film I’m working on by Josh Sibley. Little Things.

This post is for anyone who enjoys music, film or art at all. I scored this film and it is exquisite. The film. I think the score is okay too.

The “There”

Summer break came and went. Much more enjoyable than I could’ve imagined using the most previous one as a benchmark. Vast improvement. Could’ve done with a bit more friend time but I thoroughly enjoyed the family time. Guess that’s bound to happen as we age, you know?

I built my basement desk. I pushed through the writer’s block and got some stuff done. Wrote some songs. Penned some pages. Wrote some more music. Put the pen to paper.

There’s only so much you can do before that little ADHD addled brain can take no longer.

Earlier this summer, I mentioned to my mother that I only ever get homesick when there’s a week left until I go home. She said that’s a good sign, that it means I’m “generally having a good time with life” and that I’m “happy no matter where [I am]”. 

Now I’m finding out that you can get schoolsick. 

I know it won’t be the same Chicago I left in May. There’ll be new faces but plenty of old ones hopefully. New experiences and obstacles. But that only excites me more. 

Now, friends and family of my hometown, when I say this I need you all to know that I love you all very much and couldn’t move forward without the support and guidance you’ve all given me and I look forward to seeing you all again at Christmas. Put simply, it’s not the “here”, it’s the “there”. 

Now please, for the love of all things holy, get me out of here.

We got that shit done. I know I have few followers here but each and every one of you, if you like the sound of this, should follow This won’t be the last collaboration betwixt the two of us.


Adj. Sexually pleasing by popular opinion.

Consensuous and aware of it, she could get away with all sorts of shit.

Honestly, this came out a bit on the Dark Knight side but I’m cool with it. I wrote this today on a whim and was super pleased with the results. Can’t wait to get back to Chicago and put this restlessness to work.

This song has been in my head and hands for years now. I taught myself how to play piano and this was the first original song I’d ever written. I’m trying to do it justice converting to Mp3 form. Be gentle. This one hits home.

The Self-Centered Woes of an Incredibly Lucky Individual

I’m trying so hard. I was so excited when I found out that in the basement of my family’s house, there was a desk. Just. For. Me. I could have my own little space. My own little writing corner. It’s perfect. The desk is new. It’s a well lit area. The walls were bare and begging for me to stick shit to them. There is a bookshelf. Two. Two filing cabinets. I keep  my pens in a wine glass I stole from a Stars Banquet in the UC. I have my halloween notepad I won at that murder mystery dinner. My printer is aligned just the way it was in my dorm in Chicago. Nostalgia abounds. I’ve got a functional three-hole punch. The box that that “interesting” bacon-flavored peanut brittle came in, while not the most aromatically pleasing is the perfect size to hold my scripts (newly three-hole punched). And I have a wonderful paper flowchart of all my projects I want to get done before I depart once more for the Zephyropolis. So why the hell can’t I do them. 

The obvious answer here is that I have no time. In order to fulfill a science requirement and actually take something out of it, I opted out of gen-edding myself into a stupor with Columbia’s course list and am buried up to my acromials in Anatomy and Physiology study work. Should you ever be presented with the opportunity to take a five and a half week class that covers a semester’s worth of material, I suggest you make absolutely certain that you didn’t have any other inklings or activities planned. If the subject matter wasn’t interesting and the teacher wasn’t incredibly effective, I probably wouldn’t have lasted the two weeks I already have. Regardless, the class is to my free time as skeletal myocytes are to adenosine triphosphate.

On top of that, I’m currently employed at AMC. (At least I think I am). My hours have yet to be listed and I have to get all the scheduling information through my brother who was the one who graciously got me the job in the first place. Again, not a bad thing. But in conjunction, stress ensues. 

And when I’m not donating my time and effort toward one of these things, I’m most likely tending to the dogs, playing chauffeur, pulling out my hair on the couch, vacuuming the couch, trying to get food other than popcorn into my system or sleeping. Very scarcely have I had the opportunity to sit down for a few hours and write.

Until today.

Now technically, it’s in my best interest to be studying for the upcoming lecture test and I do have work at six. But I decided that today was going to be a day devoted to writing. Break the cycle. Jump out of the rut. After I completed my morning driving. I descended into my welcoming lair and sat in the folding beach chair that use on purpose. I put my fingers on the keys and waited for the words to come. And they wouldn’t. I looked up to my flowchart. They still wouldn’t come. I have six projects in development right now. I couldn’t find where to start on a single one of them. And I don’t think it’s an internal editor problem. I think it’s writers’ block.

So I sat in front of the computer for an hour. Two hours. Trying to bring myself to write. I considered starting new projects. I listened to enough Pandora that I heard the same song twice. Three hours. Nothing. 

I took a break from my dejected sitting exercise to heat up the remainder of the pasta I knew was in the fridge. When I came back down, miraculously, I churned out three messy pages of a project called “Diaspora”. Three messy pages that will almost definitely be heavily altered if not abandoned altogether. Now my ATP is being used up and my head is sinking. This is just unfair. But I don’t know what to do about it. I have to deliver my brother to one of his all but unending sports occurrences and then off to the theatre to desperately attempt a job I don’t know how to do. Four hours and I only have three shitty pages to show for it.

One might ask, should one happen to read this and take an interest: “Well why the heck did you write this Tumblr entry?”

And the only answer I can offer those ones is that I haven’t the faintest. 

Gun to my head, I’d say it was to write something today. Anything.

And I’ll tell you what. I’m glad I did. 

Enjoy my self-centered complaining,