It’s a bio. Hell, It’s an autobio, in that I’m writing it myself. This is the part where I tell you where I came from and how I work, huh? It says a lot that I’m writing this some three years after becoming a Tortuga. Am I lazy? No. And, I’m punctual to a fault, too, so what’s the news? Well, I like to keep a tight grip on what I share. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, or feeling, as long as I get to control that flow of information. A full-on Bio weirds me out. So, I sit here, in Florida, with a six-pack and a determination to get this done. It’s November, and a balmy night seems the perfect setting for whatever it is I’m about to tell you.
I began in DC. My early years were in Atlanta, there was breif interval in Raliegh, before settling outside of Charlotte, NC. Private school was followed by public school, which was breifly chased by college, and that was a fresh new hell the details of which I’ll selectively omit depending on who you are. Were you to accompany me to a different party every night for a week, and let’s say I was asked the same set of questions at each, you’d probably be dazzled by the variety of answers. I’m not a liar, I’m a performer.
I left the university of my defaulting and floated, aimless, in Charlotte NC for a few years. I joined the Red Cross relief efforts in New Orleans following hurricanes Katrina and Rita. There’s a lot to say about that, none of which I’ll relate here and now. I returned to NC and continued a lot of nothing. A dear member of my family was taken, after a long, painful battle. We mourned her passing and celebrated the end of her struggle. This, along with my aimlessness, resulted in a tailspin which led me to attempt to join the Navy. I was denied the priveledge of service, and I sometimes still regret this, but ultimatly, realize it was a blessing which would eventually leave me available for my real calling.
All of this wandering and wasted time led to a wonderful gig working some professional theatre before my daily rounds of audition-board checking brought me to the Twins. So, there you are. In brief, my history. Brevity is the soul of something, right?
My deepest wish, in my heart of hearts (which I keep locked away someplace I’ll never tell) is to greet the end of the world standing on broken glass, grinning and drunk, or maybe (even better?), hung over.
I’m going to tell you about my tattoo now.
In the tenth century, Coptic Christians from Ethiopia would often get one of a series of woodblock tattoos upon completing their pilgramage to Jerusalem. Mine is one from that series. It depicts the Angel of the Apocolypse, standing astride the planet, a sword in one hand, a scale in the other. To me, it has two meanings. On the one hand, the personal: A family name of some importance to me, and many of my relatives, is the surname Angel, the clan from which most of my personality traits derive. On the, let’s say moral front, I believe not so much in any dogma, but that there are principles, there are truths. I like my rigidity, I like judgement. What is judgement if not the ultimate social realization of order? I’ve often said God is the best literary device ever invented (But let’s face it, I said the same about love. What kind of picture do those two facts paint?). And to me, what’s more dazzling than a God who would send his most beautiful creation to herald in your ultimate destruction? “Here, now, look you for the first time upon ultimate beauty…now END!” it’s a gorgeous, mind-blowing scenario.
I love excess and respect moderation.
I’ll tell you my darkest, deepest fear: That one day, I’ll find myself in a crowded room, and be the only one there who isn’t in on the joke. I’ve my own mythology, I’m said to be be old pennies and bits of string, on the inside. Some days, this is truer than others. I once said all I ever wanted was to be sexy and awful. Still trying. The only things which have ever kept me from a good night’s sleep have been physical in nature. Mentally, I always enjoy the sleep of the just. This will likely never change, and is just as likely to indicate something horrible about my character.
I keep secrets. I dream of escape. All of my wishes involve not siimple improvement, but change. I will complain about something, I will vocalize dread, only to enjoy it, and never tell you so.
My second biggest fear is that I might be figured out by someone without having known or allowed it.
I’ve left out my lovers; it could only be highlights and selections, therefore feelings would be bound to get hurt.
I write best when writing litanies.
All of this, yet still I am constantly about to go nova with my wonder quotient.
Hi. I’m many names: JD, John, Lucio, Jon, and Pocket. Who did you meet?