What does everyday life mean to you?
I think the only constant for me is reverie: the distant dream of an everyday life. I have a lot of interests, and they tend to create a weird diaspora of daily experience- it's this really rich mix that keeps me entertained, if a little bit on edge. I do live in a fairly sleepy town, so there is space and time to realign myself with my priorities, but life, in an ever-charming way, seems to encroach upon that quiet solitude from all sides. I'm glad it does.
Can you share a daily ritual with us?
I wear glasses. Have since the fifth grade. There's a common experience that most people who are mildly nearsighted share: that first experience when you put on your new glasses as a kid, and suddenly, things glide into marvelous focus: the delicate tracery of empty tree branches becomes known to you; you see the alarming visual crackle of leaves blowing in the wind for the first time. But the real wonderful thing about nearsightedness is that-once you've got your glasses– you get two worlds. One is the crisp, linear world of well-sighted people, but the other is this dreamlike womb of color planes. Everything becomes everything else, you get these lovely abstractions without the burden of interpreting them. Living by the ocean, there is always a breeze, and so every day i take advantage; I step outside, stare at the trees, and take off my glasses. It's this warm, variegated shifting of greens, tumbling over one another. It never fails to make my heart race.
How do you break the pattern of daily life every once in a while?
It happens at a moment's notice- just making an effort to do something that surprises me. Getting on a bicycle and riding across the state, or leaping into the ocean in winter. There's a tendency to get caught up in information and ideas, and some days it's nice to get pulled back into your body. It's this goofy, mammalian state of being, and it keeps me from taking myself too seriously.