he comes in peace . . . or maybe not so much

okay, this is somewhat self-explanatory. . . or not. . .

let's just say this is meant to entice and to cultivate speculation,
like that original 'Cloverfield' teaser.

39th

Here's part TWO in my St. Mark's series.

This song actually requires very little explanation - or rather HAS very little explanation.
Basically, throughout my time working at St. Marks' Hospital (see Dead Man's Head, below), after almost every shift I would go see my girlfriend-turned-fiancee.

Each night, I'd clock out, get in my car, and go see her for a few hours before returning home.

This song is a fairly literal transcription of the directions from the hospital to her house.



PS> the video here is a bit fancier than the previous one, but still only intended as a loose visual representation of the song's tone/subject.

Dead Man's Head

okay, so hopefully this will work. I can't figure out how to just post audio files, so I think I'll have to make video files with the audio track being the intended point of interest. (the pictures are just spacefillers).

The following song is one of a handful I wrote centered around my time at St. Mark's Hospital in Salt Lake. This one came from the first experience I had with a patient dying. He had been transported from another hospital in critical condition and, frankly, was hanging on by a thread before they even went into the OR. It wasn't all that unexpected that he didn't make it through the operation, but it was the first time that I experienced first-hand the scene that gets played on TV so many times... The beep of an EKG dropping to a flatline, the surgeon furiously working away, grasping at straws as everyone else in the room slowly realizes that he's just not coming back. There's then an unquantifiable period of time where everything goes silent, and everyone hangs their head.

It wasn't until after most of the staff had left the room that I had a direct role in the scene. The head nurse asked me to help me clean up the body so that the family could see him. It had been a chaotic flash of an operation - no time for neatness.
The man had blood that was now in the process of drying all over him. It had seeped down to the white bedsheet, clotting his hair to the fabric. I lifted his head and used one clean white washrag after another to get it all out of his hair.
I tried to clean a small patch of it off of his nose - wiping around the nostril. More blood gently trickled from it.
I wiped again. Even more returned.
It just kept coming.

There must've been a patent connection from the wound to his intestinal tract, allowing the blood to run into his stomach to his esophagus through the back of his mouth to push a little bit more out his nose every time I tried to clean it off.

Eventually, he was clean.

This song is about what I imagined he might've said to me...

Apology...

Okay, so I still haven't posting anything here yet.  The plan is to use this page to post the music that I'm working on, as well as my short films.  The problem is that posting media files seems vaguely confusing and I haven't had time to figure it out.  My apologies..