Sonically, my music is constructed from various materials: a passion for the derelict and broken, prolonged spells of depression and self-imposed isolation, a deep respect for classical music, a somewhat warped pop sensibility, and as much hope and idealism as I can muster on my better days.

Perhaps, as someone once suggested to me, it is a music best suited for rainy autumn-winter days, or for slitting one’s wrists, or for falling in and out of love and philosophizing about life, or simply for rolling around in your feelings like an Irish Wolfdog in the leaves of a forest park.