In addition to being an irresistible branding hook, these three words do represent core interests and persistent motivations of mine. The fact that you’ve likely never heard of me can be chalked up to laziness, comfort in anonymity, and the dread curse of relative contentment. Thanks for your interest.

I did my first gig at age 8. playing drums at the Mendocino County Fair in Ukiah, CA. I've been musically active since, in school bands, rock groups too numerous and with names too esoteric to list here, and beaucoups solo work. 

Through my 20's I played professionally, the bulk of that time based in Atlanta, GA, working the thriving Southern club scene of the day. Southern bar bands in the 1970's became accustomed to loooong nights, 6 nights a week. It was a grind, but the bands got really good. In an interesting twist, the members of my primary band were all followers of and Indian guru- quite trendy at the time- and several times a year we would play at the huge festivals attended by the Guru's flock. From the wild energy of the clubs to the focused power of thousands of meditators sitting together, it's an understatement that my musical life in those days covered a wide spectrum.

As I was pushing 30, I had the crushing realization that my dream gig had become a drudgery. I caught myself not wanting to go to work, when my job was jumping around screaming above a dance floor of grinning, throbbing flesh! Like... huh? I had assumed music would be my entire life, so this new feeling was a sad surprise. I ruminated on it long enough to know it wouldn't change, and made the hard choice to bail on my bros, make a living outside music, and play for pleasure and exploration. It was hard, felt like abandoning my dream, but it was the right choice for me.

Since then, I've played in weekend bands of many stripes, done zillions of solo gigs, and hatched a batch of low key albums. I've followed my muse and rolled with tangents both relatable and regrettable, but every bit of it was what I wanted to do.

I was born into a family of storytellers. The Kentucky Falconers on my Dad's side were all great raconteurs, who cultivated and appreciated the art of conversation. Seriously, these people could talk, with the ablility to turn something that had happened in traffic earlier in the day into a spellbinding yarn. Some of my fondest early memories are of sitting at the table listening to these everyday folks, basking in their soft accents and easy manner. As one person talked, the others would simply listen- half of the art of story. When a story ended there would be laughter, comments, commiseration, then a pause, until someone else said "well..." and the next tale would commence.

I credit these formative roots with my enduring love of words.

I have enjoyed meditation for over half a century, starting with self-taught attempts in my teens. Meditation and spirituality were topics very much in the air as I was coming of age, and I was drawn. After some serious family upheaval in my youth and being a sitting duck for the exploratory enthusiasms of the "consciousness revolution" filtering out of the Bay Area... ahem... , I hungered for a little peace and solid ground.

My first attempts at sitting were fueled by whatever street-corner teachings I could glean, but at 21 I was initiated into a form of Raj Yoga, as taught by one of the popular Gurus of the time It was a rigorous path, with an expectation of hours of practice a day. I loved it, and found myself in a community of kind, cool, like-minded folks that felt like home..

Within an year of involvement with this group, I found myself at the Guru's ashram in India, where I had a taste of intensive practice. I fell in with a group of musicians far above my level, who took me under their wings and opened the door to a new world. I was part of a combo that toured the US as the Guru's opening act at huge public events. Seekers were coming forth to be healed and enlightened, and I had a front row seat to the spectacle.

After a decade in and around that world I began to chafe- at the groupthink that's inevitable in spiritual/religious situations like that, and the attendant claustrophobia- a common hazard. I also became disenchanted with being the follower of a charismatic leader. In short, my stubborn heart was prompting me to bust a move.... again....

My wife Jody, who I'd met in the community, was feeling likewise restless, so we gradually extricated ourselves from our familiar scene. This again was arduous, but neither of us has doubted the change. The lifelong friends we made in that world are still dear, and the value of those years is undeniable.

My meditation practice since has taken place mostly "off the map", a path of exploration rather than a prescribed regimen. This way has worked for me, and I've come to trust that our bodies, our psyches, our nervous systems have capabilities to learn, and to teach, that go largely untapped. I have incorporated more emotional work into my practice than in my earlier "bliss polarized" efforts. I've opened to letting all parts of myself come to the party- even the difficult not-pretty parts. 

I remain grateful for every step of the journey and the colorful cast of Saints and Loonies along it; grateful for the bone-deep silence and the music of the spheres; grateful most of all for my original thirst, and the well of peace that I know is just a breath away.  So Lucky…