From Dallas for about 30 years. Moved to Indianapolis and got my degree in English (Creative Writing) at IU. Then I moved back to Dallas, then to MA, then to NH, and now back to IN as both a spiritual journey and a curse of an unfortunate economy.
I write. I ramble. I ramble when I write. I drool when I write, too. Especially if I write something that bypasses my own inner-critic (AKA insecurity). I am hardcore into themes regarding sexuality and human nature (good and bad), and I tend to try to relate to these topics via food and the processes of cooking. There’s something spiritual about cooking. And there’s something relatable about food and humanity: it connects all the people from all the world from all the times, especially when the old traditions still fire up our modern grills.
I am a patterns person, so I am prone to find them quickly, and I incorporate them subconsciously. I am a fan of Gertrude Stein. I am also probably the only person who’s ever laughed while reading As I Lay Dying (having decided the book was dark humor over anything else).
I am definitely not for everyone; sometimes not even for myself!
I have to be cliche here: my plan for this thing is coffee and naps and friendly cattle prods from a fellow participant. I fear most my tendency to fall prey to a nap and awaken at another time and place (time, really). But I also fear having a sleepy haze as my muse nearer the end of the ordeal. That said, creativity can come greatest during moments of depravity and delusion, when we’re least connected to the immediate world around us.
This must be why so many glorified writers have (/had) substance abuse problems.
Yes, I am that guy. Macabre, surreal, and too honest.