A writer I respect once emailed me, shocked that my Tribe or Friendster or SixDegrees or whatever profile was so cavalier and, well, small. I wasn't playing up my fabulousness adequately. So, in the spirit of my fabulousness, I shall now approach the idea: "about me."

Well, the boring, please-give-me-a-paying-gig version may be found on my website at www.magdalen.com . Tiffany Lee Brown is a writer, editor, and interdisciplinary artist based in Portland, Oregon, USA. When not boring herself into a near-comatose stupour with these sorts of polite descriptions, she may generally be found cooking, sleeping, reading, writing, travelling hither and thither and zither and yon, writing some more, playing a pump organ/harmonium and/or an acoustic guitar, having delicious interactions with other humans, collaborating on artworks and media and shows, taking walks, reading newspapers and then complaining about their contents, cavorting with her stepdaughter and/or partner, playing with three feral cats of Russian Blue descent, camping, geeking out online, making strange temporary things in parks & on sidewalks & in cemeteries, and being forced by fancy academics and tiny art scenesters (oh did I mentioned? Miss Brown is in graduate school) to call these latter things "actions" and "interventions." SIGH.

But that doesn't explain why I am fabulous, does it? I'll try to get back on track here. OK. I've written a lot of stuff that's been published in a lot of fun places, from books to magazines to etcetera. People publish my fiction and poetry, for which I am eternally grateful. I also get to perform in neato festivals and in cool venues. I've gotten to edit some excellent independent publications (2GQ, Anodyne, Plazm, Fringe Ware Review, Future Sex, and Signum Press) and meet some amazing people. I've gotten to live in excellent places where things were beginning to happen, e.g. Portland in the mid 90s and early 00s, Bay Area in the early 1990s, etc. I've gotten to interview some people whose work meant a great deal to me (RIP, Robert Anton Wilson). I've gotten to travel a lot. I guess I've gone out of my way to lead an interesting life, and as a result, I've had an interesting life.

But right now, at this particular moment, I am on a more... internal... and quieter trip. Right now I can admire fabulousness, but only from far away, as though she is a beauty queen on TV in some big parade. I can admire all those people for standing outside in the freezing weather just to catch a glimpse of it as she waves her hand and floats by... but I can't join them at the moment. Right now, I want to know why I -- why *we*? -- are alive. Why we do things. Why we make art. Why and how we love. I want to watch shrubs shake off winter and put forth berries. I want to walk by the shrubs every day, and take the flowers and then the leaves and then the berries in my hand, as the year wears on, and I want to feel what they really feel like. Whether the flower is gentle and smooth. Whether the leaf is cold on a warm day. Whether the berries burst when they hit the ground.

Right now, I want to take walks in the park, alone, and talk to the squirrels in their own language. So that's what I do.

There is nothing fabulous about all this. It falls a little more closely in the territory of "wacky" or "eccentric." I guess that's where I am. I have exchanged the fabulousness for the squirrels and nuts and berries, for staring at the ceiling. La Grande Vie has been lived and now it is time to live the petite vie. I'm not accustomed to this part of my life, yet, but I can tell it's where I'm supposed to be. And maybe *that* -- being where you are, and knowing it is where you're supposed to be -- is the most fabulous thing one can do.