FAQ

What's your current project?

I've built up an audio and video production studio that operates under the moniker of Poet Go Home, and I'm busy taking on a diverse range of pet projects (mostly wacky viral videos) as well as freelance projects for various clients. While working to keep food on the table and keep the lights on, 2012 is all about building up towards a post-apocalyptic trilogy I've been cooking up for several years. Part 1 will be a community-cast movie, while Part 2 (which you can see at Jumper Cable Films) will be a grassroots-funded feature, and Part 3 will be a formal production.

What other irons in the fire do you have going?

I've also embarked on a huge audiobook project, World Classic Audiobooks, which sparked an ambitious offshoot in choosing the King James bible for another bold project, The Atheist Audio Bible.

How'd you decide on your made-up brand of vegetarianism?

I was a "regular" vegetarian for many years, yet I knew that I'd be comfortable - in theory - of eating animals that I'd either found dead, or would immediately want dead if I encountered them. Then, puttering around the Barcelona aquarium, as one does, I stood slack-jawed in front of the shark tank and thought, "fuck 'em!" So far, the only shark steaks I come across are farmed, so I don't indulge, but look out lions, tigers, and non-berry-eating bears!

Have you ever financially supported yourself by shooting pool?

Yes.

BIOGRAPHY

Rootless Roots

2 Years Old - I get tired of Portland, Oregon, and decide to move just to shake things up. To the West is a large body of water, to the North is Canada. I have no passport, and don't know how to swim, so I aim my family Southeast. I force my parents to pack up their belongings and get new jobs in Colorado.

4 Years Old - The strain upon my parents is too great, and they decide to divorce. I feel scared and sad about this, but as a bonus I get to live with whichever parent I want to, at whatever time of my choosing. Over the next nine years, I move back and forth on a whim, and get rather used to the sight of my stuffed duffel bag drooping over the handlebars of my black and silver Huffy that I nickname "Captain Flash."

13 Years Old - While my mother is working two waitressing jobs and studying law by night, my Dad becomes convinced that he needs to eat, and so do I if I'm staying with him. Before I can convince him that the fridge is full and he's sorely mistaken, he up and announces that he must move to San Francisco where a job awaits him. I run away, with the plan of following my Rand McNally roadmap to California and giving him a pleasant surprise by my arrival.

I come back six hours later, as it's getting too cold out, and I've already suffered four mosquito bites.

Tunnel Vision

15 Years Old - Though I struggle to assure him that I'm only interested in comedy, my father encourages me to enroll in drama class.

17 Years Old - Inspired by Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins, I drive back to Colorado for the summer and start writing seriously, pulling all-nighters on tanks of coffee and combing over short stories about various aspects of my life. Crime, drama, love, adventure! I force my mother to read them as soon as she gets up, and I scrutinize her face for smiles. She always approves, often smiles, and sometimes even laughs out loud. I understand intuitively that I've got a talent for this writing thing, and certainly the midnight oil dedication for it, but I'd better "live out" some worthwhile material to write about, as this 17-year old stuff is under-informed and not up to snuff for any seasoned, thinking reader. I know I'm destined for greatness, however, as the very day my mother tells me that we were descendents of Bohemia is the day I discover my first chest hair.

Hooked by the challenges of the acting craft, I apply for the top acting conservatories in the nation. One of over 500 people to audition, I am one of the 30 lucky ones to make the cut at CalArts. Problem is, I am over twenty grand short for the first year of tuition, and I come from a poor family. But, I reason, I might as well take the 16 hour drive and participate in class during the two week registration period, just to get a taste of what it's like. In that period, with a lot of luck and a lot of scholarship help thanks to teachers that take me under their wing, I am able to stay.

I get married in a drive-thru chapel in Vegas on a whim, and divorce a short time later. Oops.

22 Years Old - One of ten to graduate from the acting program, I am set loose upon the world. The natural thing to do might seem to pound the pavement in L.A. trying to get acting work, but that whole idea is a big turnoff for me. Going from an actor bubble in college straight into a larger acting bubble in L.A. wouldn't do all that well for my life experience and mental well being.

I strike upon the idea of living in one city every year in order to attack life with naked fists.

Write What You Know. Or, Go Know What You Write.

I move to Seattle, where I live in a van and work as a barista. During my off hours, I supplement my income by shooting pool in the back room of Charlie's Bar on Broadway, blow my earnings on vintage second hand clothes to soothe my 40's fetish, and hang out in a little wine bar I discover at Pike Place Market called the Alibi Room.

Now it's true, I have committed a crime or two in my time and could always use an alibi. And, yes, you got me, I can over-appreciate a good bottle of wine. But the main attraction for me here at the Alibi Room is it's quiet atmosphere coupled with shelves of bound screenplays for its patrons to peruse. After reading the likes of Marathon Man, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Godfather Parts I & II, and The King of Comedy, I get hooked on the screenplay form and wonder why, as an actor, I'm busying myself at the moment with novels. I buy three reams of yellow paper and set about writing my first screenplay - an adaptation of Knut Hamsun's Mysteries with me in mind as the lead role - on my 1931 Remington Model 5 typewriter.

My screenplay isn't an overnight, raging success, but I am undaunted. I know I've got a lot of work ahead of me, and a lot to learn.

I move to New Orleans, where I nearly get myself shot by a crooked ex-cop who pressures me into a $500 bet at the pool table. 99 games out of a 100, I’d have had him beat, but I suffer a freak chip shot right out of the gates and accidentally bank the 8 ball in. I work off my debt by passing out flyers to swamp tours for a few weeks in addition to my job as a waiter. Among my fellow waiters are “Crazy Jim” and “Wrestley Chesley”, two friends who compete with me for the zaniest waiter antics. Like strapping styrofam boxes to our feet and asking tables to take us home as leftovers, or hiding underneath the table and asking for scraps, or throwing dishes out onto the street if customers don’t find them to their liking. In a place like New Orleans, awash with drunken tourists, this sort of stuff is appreciated and earns good tips. Still, as waiting tables is so soul-sucking, I quit, set up a table among the fortune tellers and jugglers of Jackson Square, put up a “Hungry Writer” sign and a cup, and work on my next screenplay - an international thriller.

24 Years Old - With the money I earn "type-busking," I buy a one-way ticket to Paris. I bring $100, a bag of clothes, my typewriter and my fedora.

Paris doesn't work out when you don't speak the language, don't have working papers, and don't know anybody. It's brutal. I manage to squeak out a few months there, thanks to knowing how to find empty beds in a hostel without paying, and by living on baguettes and water. I know I have to go South or East to survive - just like my opening salvo from Portland at the age of two.

I wind up at the Prague bus station at 4 in the morning, hungry, seven dollars left, both achilles heels swollen, frosty breath spurting out the words, "what have I done, what have I done..."

I punch my way out of trouble over the course of a few years in Eastern Europe, get a few screenplays produced, and star working full-time as a screenwriter, actor and voice over artist. I modify my one year/one city plan, confining myself to Prague, Helsinki and Berlin.

36 Years Old - With a wealth of writing projects under my belt, and loads of film and commercial gigs on my resume, I take a sip on a cold beer, write this bio, and look forward to the future.