"O my body, always make me a man who questions!"

New arrival via Toronto. Masculine of centre//trans* queer.

Farm.
Otherwise; hustling about the hilly streets of Seattle. Scheming future plans and travels, trying not to overthink it (and only occasionally succeeding).

Accidentally dancing like Ian Curtis. Riding my bike too fast. Hitting things (Muay Thai! All the time!). Semi-colon usage.

My hair. It's a bit wild.

These things flux with the weather, but for now:

Textually: David Foster Wallace, Bolano, Borges, Bukowski, Eileen Myles, Paz, Stephen Dunn, Hemmingway, Henry Miller (nothing more fun then reading a dirty book in a public place)

Cinematically: any Almodovar films, but recently: Survive Style 5+, Rachel Getting Married, Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?, Paris, Texas. Shitty serial killer documentaries streamed via youtube.

Sonically: All over the place, but not in an itunes shuffle kind of way. I can get into most things--mostly dependent on how much I want to indulge my mood.

Nutritionally: Kim chi. Candied ginger. Sina brand specifically.

Notepad/pen.
Bicycles.
Books.
Coffee.
Scotch.
Sharpies.

Art of the public/street variety
What Foucault would do
The poetic possibilities of craigslist missed connections
When the seed catalogues are going to arrive.

I think we can all agree that this is a terrible question.

I've never lived in a city with this many trees.

You want to hit the mean streets of Seattle and show me around a bit (or get lost/wander about in solidarity)
You like pho
You've got an active mind with something to say. (This is a bit more important then the pho clause)
You want to get to talking about masculinity/femininity and all its queer meanings and manifestations