Excerpts of email and other writings...

Diary of a Derelict (1994-1997)

Currently working out of an abandoned studio on Haight St. in San Francisco, work washes over my prone form in the form of late-night phone calls and encrypted emails from nowhere.

Professional professionals lurk in the streets below, mixing with the touristas and beggar-brats from Marin. Artistes (of another sort) maim the atmosphere of quaint coffee shops (filling them with the intellectualized chatter of the ostracized victims of another era).

I resist them and their promises of a new world order.
The technological elite have no feat.

Darkness (1996)

I am more than a night owl. I am a creature of the night. It flows through me and around me. It envelops me, lifts me to heights of pleasure resounding through my memories. I am more awake at night, even on my tiredest days.

I am a shadow, a theif, a beggar.

I am Trouble.

Romantic (1996)

It would be romantic to say that I've erected battlements around myself as a defense. There is a tenuous line between fact and fancy, and it's been my habit to trot along it. Doing so leaves me unprepared for such probing questions, however, because I'm typically the one posing them, not composing the responses.

Really, it's a little unfair to ask me to confirm or deny descriptions of myself. I can only be accused of egoism by trying to describe myself as sensitive. It has been said, but so have a great many other things and isn't "truth" a personal matter anyway?