Excerpt 1:

From an upcoming Kindle project documenting my experience as a Restaurateur.

15 years ago, I set out to conquer the art world…
32,500 pounds of carrots later I instead mastered the art of food.

3 years into a career job I arrived at my desk early. Quietly I deposited my key and manifesto, and walked away in a very predictably boring manner. With a newly signed lease in hand, I was well on my way to opening a working studio gallery in Rochester’s gritty South Wedge. Gears churned, wheels turned, and after a spontaneous and costly sandwich in the Hamptons I instead swapped one impossible journey for another.

As coined by Nicholas Lander in “The Art of the Restaurateur”, Open Face is my story of becoming an accidental restaurateur. With little experience in the food industry I designed, built, and ran every aspect of one of Rochester’s favorite sandwich shops for 13 years. Our food was not only some of the most beautifully crafted but also some of the tastiest. And while I enjoyed much success, the all-consuming story that is owning a restaurant, left me wanting more out of life. So much like my trip down that sterile office hall 13 years earlier, I turned and once again found myself walking away.

Looking forward it only seems natural that a food brand built around community and design would find its way to the printed page. Boldly quirky and brutally honest, this is my version of one of the most difficult and yet romanticized industries. After some much-deserved time away I’m looking forward to turning around and walking back in.

Welcome.

Excerpt 2

From a novel in progress.

I barely remember. Partially it was a long time ago, mostly it just isn’t there. It’s hard to accept that the things that affect us the most get buried the deepest.  I’m 8…and laying there, practically breathless. The carpet is that plush marble pattern. Deep veins of dark brown flowing between the islands of tan loops. I trace my finger through the polyester rivers imagining it as a boat, tossed between rocky shores, hull crushing at every turn. It still scares me I don’t understand how I got to know this anticipation. Firsts are buried the deepest I guess.

My companions are a bear and a lion, seemingly life-size for someone my age. Both I’m assuming won for my cousins during a cotton candy binge tossed with excessive spinning. I can imagine their neon fur glowing bright under artificial carnival lights. They were eager for new homes where the love is squeezed from their stuffing, instead they’re left to bravely watch over sleepless sleep-overs. They roust between the mounds of blankets, and pillows, and random floor bedding. Their glass eyes flickering in the dark against the light of the TV.

We wait.

Excerpt 3

From the illustrated book “Perfectly Perfect”.

When perfectly perfect people meet,
all is well and all is neat.
Nothing is left on floors or beds,
and hair falls perfect upon their heads.

Perfect here and perfect there,
rooms all kept with perfect care.
Windows like mirrors, floors like glass,
for how very long can perfect last?

Specks of dust all in a row,
never a single mess shall grow.
Dust bunnies washed, dried, and primped,
every detail seems a cinch.

Waltzing with mops, twirling with brooms,
everything glowing as bright as the moon.
On top of the world, far from the mess,
everything great and perfect–they guess.

How very lucky these two should meet,
and live a life so perfectly neat.
Yet things rarely are, as though they may seem,
and perfectly perfect isn’t always so keen.

Excerpt 4

From one of numerous song lyrics written for potential publication.

Wake up sunshine, I know it got rough
This world turned around, and got kinda tough
But I’ve seen what you can’t, that place where you go
When you sing for the crowds, playing those shows
So wake up sunshine, get back what you lost
Rewrite the stories, of the paths we’ve all crossed
A time and a place, where you finally care
And play us the thoughts, the ones we all share

They’re waiting to hear, be taken away
Pulled from our lives and live for today
Anthems to shout, tears to be shed and
Live every word, all that you’ve said
From the tip of your tongue, they’re gonna see
A world they can feel, of make believe
So wake up sunshine, you’ve got paper to fill
Of words they all need, deep inside you still

So write us that tune we’ll scream from our lungs
Sing us that song we’ll sing back along
Go to that place where we live for today
And felt the warmth of your sun
Put dance in their feet and love in their hearts
Then sing us that song that’ll tear it apart
So get out of that bed
Say what needs said
Even when you can’t go on

Wake up sunshine, I know it got rough
This world turned around, and got kinda tough