Sometime in 1972, my piano teacher Mr. Patrick, explained rudimentary harmony to me which seemed to set off some kind metamorphosis at a biological or subatomic level. I became a musician. Sadly perhaps, there was no longer a choice in the matter.

I was born in 1958 in New Haven, Connecticut into an Ivy League environment. My father was director of the computer center at Yale. In 1969, he walked away from his position to move to the Carribean to become an underwater photographer. Living in a third world country and spending extended lengths of time breathing underwater left me fundamentally "other" in perpetuity.

We moved back to the United States, and in 1977 some of my high school friends and I were part of the birth of the Los Angeles punk scene. I got to play music with some extraordinary people in a completely new way. This brought my classical music training up to date by cross-pollinating it with 20th Century art movements.

The process of making music is an inevitable action with me, often bordering on obsession. I prefer conceptualization to be internalized. Artistic success seems subjective and hard to verbalize and manifests itself in many forms. I take it where I find it and this can be deliciously unexpected and entirely unpredictable. I think people who direct their art with dogma and ideology are kind of cool, but I've never really been able to do it without getting into ponderous and pedantic traps, although it can be fun to paste it on afterwards.

There are two great rewards from doing music: the process of discovery, and being able to share your process of discovery and see someone follow your explorations to beauty/elegance/power/ and receive it for themselves.

You can learn more about me here.

Love on ya, Paul