I don't only write about English literature; I also write about chaos theory and... ants. I can understand ants.
Chaos is my natural habitat. I write about chaotic situations and about people finding their way through the chaos, the hope that you can find your way.
Politicians used to have the confidence to tell us stories that made sense of the chaos of world events. But now there are no big stories, and politicians react randomly to every new crisis - leaving us bewildered and disorientated.
Both individuals and societies tell themselves stories to simplify and make sense of the messy chaos of reality.
Hating Wall Street is an American tradition that dates back even to the days when Thomas Jefferson cursed that money lover Alexander Hamilton. And for centuries, the complaints about it have largely stayed the same: 'It does nothing! It creates chaos! It's a parasite that sucks hardworking Americans dry!'
Nothing heightens chaos more than a berserk wild animal right in the middle.
Even though I'm usually not conscious of it, I think drawing has always served a sort of therapeutic purpose in my life. There's something about the process of translating the messy chaos of real life into a clean, simple drawing that's always been comforting to me.
The bit that I've always loved about modeling is show season: the hype, the chaos, the calm just before you walk out. It's your moment - especially when there's no one before you.
When you've got a teenager and a pre-teen, especially a son and a daughter, and they're going at each other at the table, all you really want is just five minutes of quiet, but sometimes I have a moment during the chaos when I think, 'Yes, this is good.'
Anyone who was alive during the outbreak of the bubonic plague in the 14th century experienced something terrifyingly close to the widespread death and chaos of an apocalyptic event.
