There is a deep line throughout my work, resolving the conflict between the animal nature that created us and the intellectual, civilized nature that defines us as human beings. Our animal side allows much of our joy and wonder – sensuality, living in the moment, reveling in our bodies and the natural environment. It also gives us the physical fear of prey, violent impulses, aggressive sexuality, and the fear of strangers. With a few exceptions, animals have no memory, remorse, or empathy; they live in a single, constant moment. As civilized humans, we can love for a lifetime, see the effects of our actions, and use the double-edged sword that comes from our capacity to understand the consequences of our actions. 

 

This is not an exceptional or new observation. Hermann Hesse's novels brought this understanding to me more than any other writer or philosopher. But observing it is very different from resolving it in our own lives. As evolved civilized creatures, we understand the consequences of our behaviors and restrain our actions to avoid the cruelty of violent and uncaring actions. But how often do we take this restraint too far? We struggle to live in the moment, to find joy in sensuality and contentment in our quiet moments.

 

Readers comment on the clear sexuality in some of my poems, but I think this is a sort of default observation driven by who we are. When confronted with a scene including sexuality, where does our eye go first? The honesty required to comment on our strange journey through life requires acknowledging this first inherent glance. But our second and third glances matter, too. Ultimately, it's those glances that incorporate our more profound civilized nature. In my work, you will find a man seeking to be a civilized beast, observing the constant struggle to find and embrace the best of himself. When we recognize and acknowledge each other through poems and stories, it helps us both resolve our personal human equations.