I could be variously described as a committed dilettante, a midwestern transplant, cat dad, kind of an embarrassing clothes whore, a taker of trips, and talker to random people on the subways. I try not to take myself too seriously, but sometimes I do anyway. i make things up for a living.

Selling the kinds of drugs that don't sell themselves. Learning spanish. Surfing and traveling. attempting to amend the constitution. Seriously. It's just gotta happen.

creative direction. composing half thoughts. feeling outraged, just outraged! curating my apartment.

My smile.

Didion, Roth, Nabokov, Murakami, Woolf, Elliot, Kurosawa, Anderson (PT and Wes), LCD, Arcade Fire, Stones before beatles, velvet underground, belle and sebastian, flying burrito brothers, Frank Black, female vocalists, billy bragg, brian eno, nirvana, Rome, True Blood, Deadwood, Boardwalk, let me abbreviate this and say pretty much all HBO, Planet Earth, PBS, NPR, and other random nature/how stuff works stuff. i like almost all food except pickled japanese vegetables. and bugs. but maybe i just haven't had the right kind.

The ocean, talking about things i read in the new yorker, premarital sex, dead flowers, my cat, music.

The problems i see in the world; unprecedented ecological and economic barriers that we're just starting to bump our heads against. How to break out of my own orbit and participate in the answers, if there are any. How to be more present, more kind, and more even. Man, that sounds like a load of shit..

You're comfortable talking to strangers; touring Brooklyn on a Vespa sounds like fun to you; you are no stranger to the pleasure of wine and HBO on Sundays.