I am a reader. Books occupy no small part of my life. I have worked in small independent bookstores and reviewed books for a living as well as haunted the creepy musty dank confines of old thrift stores, antique stores and book stores  to find, possess, consume and sometimes sell whatever books I can find. I currently have a very small, modest library of around 200 titles. This is an extreme pairing down from the over 5,000 which I used to possess. I am still unsure of exactly how I feel about this loss. As a Pisces – two fish swimming in opposite directions – I often find myself living happily in the space between paradox and ambiguity. I love minimalism and sympathize with hoarders. I am of two minds always. Books are my ocean. My escape. Melville went to sea to escape the pistol and ball  – I go to the shelves. To find myself, to lose myself, to scratch an itch. I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.


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