Tootfinder

I like to think that when someone receives a letter from me in an official capacity, they imagine me composing it bathed in diffused light from antique reading lamps while sitting in a cocoon of leather, brass, and aged hardwood. It's a better picture than reality: me balanced in a wonky chair at a crumbling second-hand desk in a poorly climate controlled, institutionally painted cinder block office while squinting under the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights my university actually provide…