Welcome to my creative crawl space, where I broadcast my variety show featuring music, film, photography, commentary, and of course, audience participation. So wipe your feet, grab a drink, pull up a chair, and enjoy. The show is about to start ...

There are no entrance fees to these rooms, but don't forget to tip the bartender. And if you like what you see and hear, let us know and tell your friends.

Badheart was born inside a Sequoia tree somewhere in northern California. When he was 13 years old, a band of Norwegian muses stole his heart; as luck would have it, a Tasmanian devil came along and lent him its ticker. There’s nothing like a used borrowed heart. Badheart spent his long summers following the echoes of trains, foghorns, and the Rolling Stones. He planted seeds of offbeat words and sounds in the dry soil of his family’s farmland. From those seeds grew ballads of aloneness and loneliness. He performs these ballads, keeping the ghosts of the no-no boys and Sleepy John Estes in his throat and more than a few card tricks up his sleeve. Currently he is absorbing the city lights of Hollywood, still knowing that one winter day he must return that rented organ back to its lender …