I believe language is a soulful exchange of meaning and intent stretched until a bridge is formed between author and audience. I think the work of language is sacred and full of mystery. What could be more insulting than choosing words without care? What could be more demeaning than telling someone we don’t care about the sounds and shapes they make with their lips? Letters and sentences bring meaning and life and movement. They have created revolutions and squelched an otherwise impatient King. They are easy to form but easier to misinterpret. There are no simple utterances or throwaway phrases. The cost of speaking is often so low we forget the richness that hangs in each syllable. But will we hear it? Will we defend it? I am a writer born out of strife and dropouts. I’ve left seminary and law school twice. I thought my love was with the end but it was really with the middle. Language can be, and should be, enough of a pursuit on its own. I’ve written for “famous” brands and people. I’ve written for big souls and small companies. I’ve created taglines and manifestos and ads. I’ve churned out speeches and standards and signs. I’ve used humble syllables to launch companies, products, and campaigns. But all of that shouldn’t matter to you as much as my intent and belief. Because I see so little of purpose. Where has the conviction gone? Examples of work and decks and awards hang in the ether. I suppose that helps make the world spin and keep circling. I do not wish to disparage my brothers and sisters who use those things to make a living. But I do want any potential client, hiring manager, or state actor to know this: Do not hire me for my past work. People have done bigger and better. People have metrics and awards and accolades. I have few and don’t keep track. People who wish to partner with me in creating words, beware. I am uncompromising and principled. I am at times stubborn and hopelessly curious. I’m not linear or calculated or “process-oriented.” I create with and for people I’d like to have around a table at an ungodly hour talking about eternal things with sleepy but bright eyes. I believe in language as a way of living well and creating something that lasts longer than 80-100 years. I write for myself, for my friends, my kids, and my neighbors. I write because I must and I’m grateful that a few foolish people want this fool as their guest. If you’d like to create together, let’s have a conversation.

-David