Matthew David

Hi, if you know me, then you know my name and know where I am from. You may know what I like to do on the weekends, which political animal I find the most amusing, or what kind of striped shirts I like to wear in the Marina. You undoubtedly know what I do for a living and just how much I enjoy the orange carpet. You probably don't know that I love to write for hours, prefer headphones to speakers, and aspire to be something greater than my path may allow. You've likely never seen my drawings, my stacks of photographs, or my collection of items that I hold dear; those that've made me, broken me, and those that will hold me together. My walls are plain & uncomplicated; ready to grow yet reluctant to state any permanence. I keep my Kenneth's polished, the cuff links half done and my Thomas Pink untied. I have probably contemplated every conversation I've had with you more than once, planned a response more than twice, and have thought about you at least three times. My ideas are comfortably flexible, yet the risk has been calculated and mitigated. There are plans for a soap box on my desk. Every angle cleanly complicated, every support ornately simple, all nails perfectly scattered; yet I never desire to be in the center. It's not likely you will ever be more important than the two women that raised & inspired me; my mother & sister. I have a few close friends who are caring, understanding, ambitious, and uniquely & genuinely human. For them, I will always write in pencil should they need to schedule an appointment.