I also work with an arts empowerment program, teaching theater at a Brooklyn high school. Those kids have definitely noticed by now that I only seem to own one pair of pants - because everything else I own is covered in paint.
I buy philodendrons and make messes and put a little vanilla extract in my eggs for french toast.
I used my grandpa's power drill from the 1930s until I finally bought myself a cordless this year, I'm still learning how to make fun of myself, and I have a second fridge for beer.
I devour mythologies, folklore, and the stories we tell ourselves.
I'd like to start boxing, but I recently pulled an abdominal in yoga, so that might be a little ambitious.
I dream extremely vividly, and every night.
Calvin and Hobbes are my muses.
If I owned my apartment, every wall would be covered in murals.
I untrain peoples' dogs when I play with them, and have the bruises to prove it. They're fun when they're rambunctious.
I love the smell of bonfire in my hair, especially after a night of skinny dipping. I come alive for the Perseids and bioluminescent dinoflagellates. I miss spending long weekends backpacking. I miss the woods. But I never learned how to hike for the journey instead of the destination -- I can't just do a daytrip loop. I have to have a campsite I'm hoofing it towards.
I furtively enter American Apparel once a month to snag a free copy of Vice magazine.
"I'm interested in the million tiny deaths that occur in everyday human interaction."