I am a splintered girl, made of kisses and stars and sadness. I like coffee and flowers and trees and old photographs and dresses and dictionaries. I don't like endings and not knowings, and that is why I write letters to strangers that I see on the street. I am inspired by the cosmos, Bob Dylan, dripping faucets, the love affair between the moon and the sea, bodies (all sorts), Sylvia Plath,  empty corn fields, the colors the sky makes, Anaïs Nin, wind chimes, glass doors, kitchen counters, trailer homes, hiking trails, street art, Jeff Buckley, my mother, hummingbirds, chimney smoke, windows, scratchy carpets, dotted ceilings, broken light fixtures, the way the clouds move, Pablo Neruda, sex, the smell of opium poppies, Edie Sedgwick, chandeliers, corsets, eyes, cats, and many other things.