"I often write about being in the middle ground between two cultures, not fully a part of either. I write with a split voice, often experimenting with language until the parts equal some sort of a whole. I would say a pencil is a buffalo migration under the sky with its stars turning like a jar-lid poked with holes. Writing affects my life, my Real life, while the rest spins through the lone pines. I write from everyday circumstances, old ordinary life, and the stampede of the past. I like to see words, their friendly orifices."