I’ve always been the person at dinner who takes the conversation there, never shying away from dissecting a tender subject right at the table. In my work, I’m no different; as a writer, musician, and visual artist, I love cracking open that lil bean pod of human tenderness to check what’s inside.

Growing up in the U.S. Deep South gave birth to a dark twist of humor that lets me lap up grief and loss like peach juice from my wrists. Those southern roots have carried me from Moscow to PDX and just about everywhere in between; just ask me about my season as a blueberry farmer in rural Maine and the years I spent slinging sushi in Tallahassee.

Now, I’m living cozy in Toulouse, France, where I’m busy querying my novel, polishing my screenplay about arson and ghosts in 1990s Moscow, running Snail Mail Sweethearts, and cooking up new art installation ideas.