Tribute to a True Artist

September 9, 2013 Elizabeth Leave a comment

It sucks that the second post I’ve made in pretty much forever is another tribute to someone we’ve lost, but recently a remarkable young man passed away and I wanted to do something here in my little space to remember him.

I interviewed Joe Threat in May of 2012. My life was drastically different then, and so was his to some degree. He’d had a bad experience on stage, he was still recovering from a terrible car accident, and he was just getting started.

Fast forward to last month. He was still getting started but he was starting to shine. No longer a diamond in the rough, the many facets and depth of his talent and personality were becoming apparent to everyone who saw him perform live, and everyone who heard his latest album, “Sinister Circus” was catching on to the fact that this guy was the real thing.

I didn’t know Joe well, but my experience of him echoes the Facebook and social media posts of many – he was a kind, genuine, positive-thinking guy who had something to say, knew how he wanted to say it, and was a force of good in the world. Below I share with you the interview I pitched to a local magazine, as it read then, with the picture Joe wanted me to use because I feel crappy it never got published and because I feel like it is a good way to memorialize a guy I liked and respected very much.

Interview – Conducted in May or so of 2012

Two things occurred to me on the evening I interviewed Joe Threat. One – that I was probably the least qualified person to write an article about a hip-hop artist and two – that I was a fool to think I could type fast enough to keep up with a guy who raps. Obviously, the guy has a different relationship with words than I do.

It didn’t take very long, though, to figure out that Joe has a different relationship with the WORLD than, well, anybody. Also, despite my ignorance about hip-hop influences or Richmond’s current club scene Joe was going to make sure I was the most qualified person to write an article about HIM.

It’s nice to learn things about yourself while you learn about other people.

I interviewed Joe at my house. That may seem weird, but whatever. He brought Justin Lewis , also known as Octopus Drummer, founder and operator of Attic Boy Records and Nana Dadzie, owner of KickRocs.com, with him.

You may or may not have heard of Joe Threat. Odds are, if you frequent any of the many venues downtown that present live music, you have. In the last six months Joe has had shows at The Camel, Bonvenu, Balliceaux, The Nile, The National and Baja Bean Company. He recently released an album, Promise of THREAT Mixtape Vol. 1, available on CdBaby for free.

So I’m totally going to jump the gun. My plan was to save the thoughtful question and the topical, relevant question the esteemed Editor in Chief gave me until last. I waited until the end of the interview to ask Joe – but I submit it now.

Q – Joe seems to be one of those guys who sees a pretty serious division between what he’s doing and the more commercially-oriented segment of the hip-hop genre. How does that tie in to the recent show at the National when he opened for A$AP Rocky, and how does that steer his creative decisions?

See, I want to get this question out of the way first, because it’s possible that you went to that A$AP Rocky show. Or, you might have heard about it. Joe didn’t get the best reception. In fact, the reception was flat-out awful. So, even though I asked about that late in the actual interview, I’m going to address it first, because in case it is on your mind I want to get it out of the way. So I asked:

Me: Joe, what happened at The National?

And he said:

Joe: It’s on me. I could have picked a better track selection. I’m true to my art and I want to showcase songs I enjoy but I failed to take my audience into consideration. I learned in AP English to address my audience and got away from that. I should have realized that the crowd was young and they weren’t acquainted with the hip hop I’m married to. They love another girl from the same family, but it’s not the same girl by a long shot.

See, that’s the thing. Ask a younger artist, and they might come back at you with some talk about “haters.” Ask another artist and they might talk about creative differences or blame it on the fact that they’d been in the hospital the day before (AHEM). Not Joe.

There’s a reason people started using the phrase “keeping it real.” Presumably it’s because they wanted to keep things honest, to present information in a forthright and clear manner. Joe? He’s like that. Except he wants all that PLUS dope rhymes and fresh beats. Is that so wrong?

When asked about the commercial world of hip-hop and any disparity between it and what he does, Joe doesn’t mince words. “It would be nice to be commercially successful so that your passion can pave way for your life,” he says, “But….”

But, he has bigger things to worry about.

That’s one thing about getting to meet artists from all walks of life. Every now and then you meet someone who truly does what they do because they have no choice. How do you get to the point in your life where you have no option but to follow your heart and CREATE? Joe Threat knows.

Me: What made you choose the hip-hop genre?

Joe: It chose me. I learned about music first through my Dad’s record collection. We listened to oldies in the car, but I started digging in his crates when I was about 11 and would hear those records when he played them. Initially I liked Pink Floyd, The Animals, The Rolling Stones and The Moody Blues. The Moody Blues makes an appearance in my music pretty often.

One day I was in school in Baltimore and I saw an older kid with a Bob Marley patch on his jacket. I got in the car and asked my Dad “Who’s Bob Marley?” When I was doing my homework later that night he handed me a cassette of Live! and said “You have to hear ‘No Woman No Cry’.’’ It was all over for me when I heard that “one good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain.” (Trenchtown Rock) I was in. That same Christmas I got a boom box and a Columbia House membership and I got the Best of the Doors (2 CD set), Boyz II Men (they played it at the dances) and Michael Jackson Dangerous.

I was obsessed with The Doors forever. After that, Led Zeppelin. After that I found punk rock. Then I heard Nas’s first album Illmatic. That’s why I chose hip-hop and I’ll never look back.

Me: So you chose hip-hop when you were basically a preteen. Tell me about the time in between then and when you decided to get serious.

Joe: I was in high school in Richmond and I went to shows at Twisters with kids that were older than me that skated together (Asian gangster kids, punk rock kids) and they loved hip hop and punk rock.

Skateboarding really broadened everyone’s horizons and made things the way they are today. I felt constrained by sports – skateboarding made it so an active kid could be artistic. That world exposed me to art.

I started writing rhymes. I wrote in my notebook for 3 years before I realized what I wanted to do. I was a freshman at VCU and it was fall of 99 or spring of 2000. That’s when I decided to grab a microphone and spit out rhymes at people while they’re drinking alcohol.

I didn’t get serious until after the car accident. I made an album in spring of 2009 (Torchlit Passages). The accident happened on June 26, 2010. Everything changed. I was in a coma for three days, and the first thing I realized was that I almost died, and I knew I had to do what I was supposed to do. I was like a molecule bouncing around in a pot of water. I had nothing but a mountain of trouble in front of me – legal woes that would make a celebrity worry- all I had was a bottle of Percocet in front of me and nothing but stasis.

Justin kept me together. I couldn’t use crutches. My left arm and right foot were injured and I hopped around on my left foot for months. That flipped the script. Justin was taking me to his house where he has his studio and that’s what we did for 8 hours every day. I couldn’t even tend to my legal or financial woes but I was sitting on the front porch of Attic Boy studios. Usually I would be like f&%k that cop and f&%k that car wreck, but now I have to believe that all this happened for a reason.

I still have to believe that and live in this new life – and sitting there with a pen and a pad and letting my body heal and being so productive got me to where I am now. It just got brighter and brighter.

Me: What’s it like, specifically, to be a hip-hop artist in Richmond?

Joe. I just try to be a hip-hop artist.

(Justin chimes in): It’s not a great scene. It’s a weird scene for all music. But for what Joe is trying to do it is especially different. There are not a lot of people doing what he’s trying to do.

Joe: It doesn’t necessarily matter if it’s a challenging environment. Francis Scott Key wrote his big song during a battle. I’m trying to write my life through verse, and it really doesn’t matter what’s going on around me. I am out to do what I’m supposed to do and it doesn’t matter what the “scene” is. I’m not worried about whether or not I am “commercial.” I just want to make good music.

Me: How have you chosen your collaborators so far?

Joe: Latitude and longitude. Timing is everything. Over all it’s been very organic. It hasn’t been mechanized at all. I never really saw to create something in particular, I hung out with musicians and enjoyed that music and we made music together.

On Octopus Drummer: I helped Justin move, and he would pick me up and we would chill in his studio and we would collaborate. I like underground, unique stuff. Justin’s freshness was an inspiration. Justin always brought newness, he’s self-taught and it’s very organic. I’ve always liked that organic sound, bluegrass, or whatever, and at the time I couldn’t walk. I feel like the words had a lot of meaning and those meaningful messages were synonymous with his organic sound. The process of making the music was fun and he forced me to be a better rapper.

On Scolaro: I met Josh and gave him a demo that was 10 minutes long – 5 songs with no blend by DJ Manifest (aka Dr. Data). Josh busted out some of his old recordings and was like, “I am going to make your album.”

Josh’s familiarity with music made the creation swift and I can hum something or tap something – however rudimentary my communication process was to him, and he interprets it so soundly. He’s very receptive to my vision. He’s open to a lot of s&!t. He is a virtuoso.

Me: What’s next?

Joe: The mixtape that just dropped is pretty raw. Justin and I did that together and I hope to release other things like it in between bigger projects. I don’t want to be one of those hip-hop artists that makes like 20 mix tapes, but it’s fun and I really enjoyed this last one.

I’m working on my second “real” album. The first one finally hit iTunes and I was like, “OK cool. Next.” It’s going to have a bunch of my favorite musicians and producers on it. I have two songs I’m using from what I’ve been doing with Josh, two songs with Justin, one with Dr. Data on the photo synthesizers, and my boy from Divine Prophets has a track on there that he produced.

I’m going to keep going. I’m going to keep updating my crazy website. I’m going to keep writing raps. I’m going to keep going out there and performing. I will never stop.

The rest of my notes fade as the discussion continued. Throughout this entire conversation Justin, when he wasn’t charming the grumpy feline, was softly playing one of the guitars that lives in my house. Someone asked Joe if he was going to rap at all, and Justin picked up the volume on the guitar. Joe free-styled a little, we all ate some dinner, and then Joe, Nana and Justin left to have a REAL Friday night somewhere.

And I totally had the warm fuzzies from talking to someone with passion for what they do. Because strip away genres, subcultures, community lines and spheres of influence – at the end of the day if you end up talking to someone who does what they love because they simply must…well…that means it’s a good day.

END OF INTERVIEW

I post this in the hope that you’ll go listen to Joe’s music, because it’s out there. I post it in the hope that you realize that it is possible to follow your dreams without reservation, without fear and without doubt. Because Joe did. To read a stunning beautiful tribute written by Justin (aka Octopus Drummer), visit atticboy.com, and contact Justin at justin(AT)atticboydotcom to contribute to Momma Threat, Joe’s mom and biggest fan.

Justin will have a bandcamp page up soon, and I’ll update this post with the link.

This was from a Magazine 33 photo shoot. I don't have their permission to use it. But I had his. Does that count? — This was from a Magazine 33 photo shoot. I don’t have their permission to use it. But I had his. Does that count?

Rest in peace, Fearless One.

Family, Life Experiences

Happy Birthday. I Miss You.

August 19, 2013 Elizabeth Leave a comment

Today would be your 36th birthday, which would make you (number-wise) the same age as me. Until March. Since we could talk and form human thoughts, our 5 months separation in age have made for intense debate. When we were very young, my 5 months on you was total justification for my know-it-all attitude. To you, my older-and-wiser self could conceivably take the heat when one of our hair-brained ideas went awry and we ended up in a spot of trouble. Once we reached 30, our age difference became a joke. You’d say “Well, you can understand that because you’re so much older than me” from March to August, and then starting August 19th I’d begin with the “Welcome to the old lady club, would you care for a prune juice?” bit.

This year is different, because you’re gone. I still can’t believe it. On July 29th the world stopped making very much sense.

On that day, Mom called me to tell me you were gone. On that day, she and I drove to West Virginia to pick up your Mam-Maw to take her to your funeral. At 11:12 PM that night, I wrote this in my journal:

“It’s funny that I would break out a journal now, since it is one of the few times in my life that I’ve been totally at a loss. For words. For a real grip on my feelings. For anything. I sit in this familiar house listening to my mom and your grandmother talk and for a few seconds at a time it is almost possible to ignore what has happened. That you, at 35 years old, have died of cancer. That tomorrow we’ll drive 9 hours to a cheap hotel in Rockford, Illinois to attend your funeral. You, who I have loved best, loved longest, loved so achingly and frustratingly for all my years. As long as I can remember. You are a piece of my heart, a chunk of my soul and you are gone. Part of me is gone.”

And thus began three days of intense scribbling, because if I didn’t keep my hands busy I’d go crazy. I remember all of it, the drive, your visitation, your funeral, the drive back, through a hyper-real filter of grief. And since then, I have tried to live life and do what I’m supposed to do but it will take some time, I think, before anything seems real or right again.

I know that during these times you’re supposed to talk about the big picture. You’re not supposed to focus on your own loss because there is a greater plan. A glorious and wonderful architecture to life that is not for us to understand. You believed that with all your heart, and you weren’t afraid to go. I admire you and am so proud of you for that.

And I want to be strong, and wise, and I don’t want to be selfish. But I feel selfish, and maybe that’s OK right now. Because right now I wish I could be waiting to call you to see if your birthday present got there yet. Right now I wish I was waiting until it was a decent hour in Illinois so I could call and leave a loud and ill-tuned recording of “Happy Birthday” in your voicemail. One so horrendous that you’d call me back laughing. I miss you. Every day.

But I’m not the only one. Your sweet husband, for one. Your sister. Your grandmother. My mother. Your mother-in-law. Your sister-in-law. The whole amazing family you married into. YOUR family. Your dad. Your dad’s family. Your aunt. Our whole family. And so, so many more.

Sitting in that little church, two emotions were prevalent. One, of course, was grief. The other, undoubtedly, was love. You were so loved. Fellow teachers, past and present students, past and present employers, church members, friends from high school, friends from college, friends from elementary school. They all adored you. You made a difference in their lives. You changed the world for them. I couldn’t have been more proud of you. I couldn’t have been more sure that you left this world after living the life you were absolutely supposed to live.

I wish I had a recording of Doug’s (speech? sermon? eulogy?) on the day of your funeral. To paraphrase, he reminded the group that had gathered (standing room only, just like at your mom’s) that J was crazy about you. And then he said that he was crazy about you too. And so were your students, your family, and everyone. He gave this heartbreakingly simple, very eloquent list of reasons to be crazy about you. Your smile, your mission, and your suffering. Your smile shows the world your heart. Your mission shows the world your devotion to God. Your suffering shows the world you were a hero. You were my hero. You still are.

So enough mumbling and moaning. It’s your birthday, after all, and I wanted to write something to express how much you mean to me and how much I miss you. I guess that’s the danger in waiting 22 whole days to write something. It all comes out. But, since this is my own little place that I carved out to write whatever I want, I feel totally justified in letting this first 880+ words serve as an introduction. Now I’ll take a cue from Doug and keep it simple.

We used to bug your Pap-Paw to take us to the store for candy or ice cream, and for some reason we loved the grocery store. Being that it was 1979 or 1980 and we were so very cute, we were pretty much allowed to go barefoot all the time, resulting in a vigorous foot washing from one of our grandmothers, mothers or aunts. I believe the above photo was post-foot washing. My grandmother may have destroyed the photos of our dirty feet to protect the family name. She didn’t get that we were trying to be “Blackfoot” Indian Princesses like her.

This was always one of my favorites of us.

“Bikes”

I think we were 9 or 10 in this picture. Les and Ali are so little!

All grown up, we go to a “beautiful” mall in IL. This was before a big surgery, after which you graciously and cheerful rode the whole 10 hours back to WV with Mom, your Mam-Maw and me.

Last summer in Charleston. So glad that we had that time. So glad we had any time we had.

That same trip. Before or after we goofed around and both got in the hammock.

After the graveside portion of your service, the people from your old school and church brought two busfuls of balloons. Bright pink, light pink, white…and we all released them at the same time. It was a nice gesture (and hopefully not too destructive to the bird population of IL) and a few people caught pictures of it.

This picture of you, while not the favorite for the “Iconic Lori Picture,” makes me so very happy.

But part of us will always be those little girls. Best friends. And you will always be the Denier of Naps, Purveyor of Candy, Writer of Arms With Ballpoint Pens, and the first person to be excited to see me.

Happy Birthday, my sweet Lo Lo. I’ll get over this terrible bump of self pity soon, but today your Bethie misses you.

House, Things I Don't Like

An Open Letter to My Landlord

July 12, 2013 Elizabeth Leave a comment

I alerted you to the air conditioning situation in the XXXX apartment of XXX address, last September when I moved in. I told you at that time that only a few of the vents worked, and nothing was done.

Over the winter, when temperatures got very low, I let you know that those same vents were under-performing. This resulted in my having to keep the thermostat on 80 degrees in order for it to be 65 degrees or so in the apartment, and I had to borrow a heater from you, and use two of my own space heaters. As a result of all this, my heating costs over the winter were much higher than they should have been. My electricity bill was $250-$300 per month, too.

This year, on June 13th, I let you know that the AC wasn’t functioning satisfactorily. You told me to check to see if the line was frozen and you told me to change the filter. I did, but still only one vent in the apartment actually blows, which is the vent in the bathroom. You commented that perhaps I perceived it that way because the bathroom is the smallest room. I told you that regardless of the bathroom being the smallest room, I was still able to tell that other vents simply were not blowing air. The bedroom vent trickles a bit of air, but not enough to make any difference in the temperature of the room.

You never sent over an AC tech like you promised.

On June 24th at 4:08 PM I checked in with you again. You did not respond.

On June 25th at 3:44 PM I sent you a text that said “Landlord, please respond about the AC.”

You responded at 6:09 PM that same day and asked the internal temperature of the apartment and to check the outdoor condenser for a frozen line. I responded that the temperature inside the apartment was 82 degrees despite the thermostat being set to 68 degrees. I told you the line on the compressor looked fine but that when I walked past the basement I felt cold air, leading me to the conclusion that ducts might be disconnected.

You responded that you left your AC tech a message and that you would let me know when he could come check it. The maximum temperature that day was 96 degrees. I responded to you that the heat was making me sick.

On June 29th I had a problem with the plumbing in the bathroom. Water welled up from the pipes into the bathtub and wouldn’t drain, the toilet wouldn’t flush and the wax ring around the toilet was leaking. I notified you of the problem at 9:21 AM and you responded at 1:33 PM asking what color the water was, if the tub had been draining normally until now, and if I would be home in the afternoon that day. You texted back at 1:48 (15 minutes or so later) and said that the plumber could likely get there that day (June 29th) but needed to know when I’d be home. You also asked if the water had drained since I plunged the bathtub. I went out for a while that afternoon since my bathroom wasn’t function. I responded at 3:30 and told you that the bathtub had drained, the water seemed clear, and that I’d be home around 4:30.

You responded at 4:11 PM that the plumber went on another call and would let you know when he would be free. You said that you might want to try a drain cleaner – that you had some at another property and you’d see how much was left when you went back there.

I asked you what would make water rush into the tub from the pipes, and you didn’t respond. I was afraid it was a sewage backup problem, which would be bad.

I texted you at 5:16 on the same day (June 29th), again at 5:37 PM and tried to call you no less than 5 times. You did not answer any of my calls.

You responded at 6:16 PM on June 29th to tell me that the plumber thought the sewer line might need to be cleaned out and that he was coming back. I asked you when he’d be here. You said that you weren’t sure, that he had to pick up a larger router and then he’d call you. I asked you to keep me posted, and offered to call him directly if you’d provide his number.

You responded at 6:34 PM to say that the city sewer line was backed up and that might have something to do with it. I told you I still wanted to plumber to come, because at that point you had confirmed my fears that the problem might be sewage, which would render my apartment unusable, as I’d be afraid to use any of the running water for fear there was sewage backup in the pipes.

You said the plumber was coming and that I should use the drains as little as possible. This puts me after 6:30 PM on Saturday with no way to run water, use the toilet, etc. We had several more exchanges. I told you I had church and work the next day and that I’d need the bathroom to get ready, and that I should be able to use the toilet when I needed to. I asked for an update at 7:30 via text, and called you several more times with no answer.By 8:47 you still hadn’t responded, so I texted you to ask for the plumber’s phone number.

You responded at 9:08 that you’d called the plumber and talked to him 5 times or more (this is all without you coming to assess the situation or asking me for more information via text or telephone) you said that the plumber would try to be out that night but if not it would be first thing the next morning. I asked you to call me so I could tell you my schedule for the next day. You didn’t. I told you I was busy all day the next day but that you had permission to let the plumber in if I wasn’t there the next day.

I then went out and bought heavy duty Liquid Plumber and poured a bottle down the toilet and one down the bathtub drain. About two hours later, they both drained and the toilet flushed normally again.

Because of your lack of response, and the fact that I didn’t hear from you “first thing in the morning,” I believed that this would be much like the AC tech situation from June, and that no plumber was coming. I still felt that a plumber should double check to make sure there was no sewage back up in the pipes, but I chose not to try anymore to get help from you.

At 11:25 AM the next day (June 30), you texted to tell me the plumber was outside and asked if I was home. Even though I had told you twice by text and twice via voicemail that I would not be home all day Sunday, and that you had my permission to let the plumber in. I told you that and that your lack of communication was frustrating. If you had checked with me Saturday night, early Sunday morning, or communicated with me at all I would have told you about the Liquid Plumber and how I got the bathroom to drain. You didn’t. You just let the plumber show up late morning and then texted me at 2:47 on the 30th of June saying “Elizabeth this is crazy, you made it sound like a disaster area and the plumber check the drain for over and hour and couldn’t find anything wrong, or that even concerned him.”

I reiterated the entire exchange so far and expressed relief that the plumber didn’t find anything wrong. The situation, on Saturday night, was an emergency, even though I didn’t say that word (emergency) but you failed to help me, so I helped myself.

You then said “I told you yesterday, based on what you described that I first wanted to try a good drain cleaner. It certainly wasn’t an emergency and you need to pay $50 towards his bill which will probably be $150 because it was a weekend service call.”

I have a record of the text messages we exchanged after that, but I made it clear that I wasn’t going to pay $50 when your lack of communication and the fact that you DIDN’T come try a drain cleaner resulted in your getting the plumber over here. There WAS something wrong, and it appeared that I fixed it. I didn’t know for sure, since I’m not a plumber, nor am I landlord. If you had a problem calling the plumber you should have come over here to assess the problem yourself. And you should have brought the drain cleaner over Saturday night.

Regardless, we had no further contact until July 9th, after I paid my rent and notified you that I would not be extending my lease another year. I never got any confirmation from you that you received that letter, but I’ve attached it to this email for your reference.

July 9th at 9:01 PM I texted you to said that the AC was failing to blow any cool air. I texted you again the next morning at 7:27 AM that the temperature was a bit cooler, but that was probably because it was early morning and that the AC should still be checked – that only one vent was blowing.

i should mention at this time that when the plumbing problem occurred I went down into the basement. The ductwork is pinned up to the ceiling and compressed, but the basement itself is very cool as the air conditioning is blowing in the basement, not in my apartment.

Like this, borrowed from inspectapidia.com.

You responded at 4:28 on July 10th (nine hours later) that the AC tech was trying to get by here today and that he’d let you know when he finished his last appointment if he’d be by that night or the next morning. I told you I’d be here all night but had to leave at 7 the next morning, but did not see a need for the tech to come in.I told you what I saw in the basement. July 10th’s high temperature was 91 degrees.

I got home at 2:16 on July 11 and texted you to ask for status.

You responded at 4:36 PM that “I just told him 15 minutes ago when he gets there to call me.”

I thanked you, and told you I’d like for him to come in and identify the vents that weren’t working and let you know I was at home.

I texed you at 6:22 PM to ask for status again. I told you the temperature inside the apartment was 82 degrees with the thermostat set to 66 degrees. The high temperature on July 11 was also 91 degrees.

I texted you at 8:27 PM July 11th telling you that you have known about this problem for some time now and that the only reason I was able to be in the apartment was because of the fans. Since the bedroom ceiling fan has never worked since I moved in, I can’t sleep in the bedroom.

As of now (1:02PM) on July 11th, I still haven’t heard from you. It’s cooler today, but that doesn’t mean that the problem has fixed itself. When it gets hot again the problem will be just that, a problem, again.

Since this has been an outstanding problem this year (2013) since June 13th, it has been between 91 and 96 degrees in the hottest part of the day. That means that since June 13th I haven’t had reasonably functioning AC for almost 1 month. I realize this is an old house with high ceilings and very, very old windows and that even the best AC might not cool this house the way an energy efficient place would. That’s a sacrifice we make for living in these beautiful old homes. HOWEVER, of all the vents in this entire apartment, only one blows air at a rate more than a trickle, and right now,even with the thermostat on 66, it’s not blowing cold air. The compressor outside doesn’t function like the other compressor.

If this isn’t resolved by the end of the day today, we will have to discuss the deduction of a significant part of August rent. It is the law that you provide a habitable living space, and when temperatures inside an apartment reach in the eighties WITH “central AC” that does not constitute habitable. Again, today is nice, but the last month has been pretty miserable.

I will be out of your hair September 1. Trust me when I tell you, though, that your new tenant will want the vents to function. It’s in your best interest to fix this now.

not always about monkeys

Tribute to a True Artist

Interview – Conducted in May or so of 2012

Happy Birthday. I Miss You.

An Open Letter to My Landlord

i can't really tell you what this blog is about, but I can tell you what it's not about. monkeys. at least not all the time.