There are times in your life that become clouded by the muddling of a crystalline ice cube in your glass of bourbon. Or maybe this is all the time? I find that clarity takes about as much refinement as the painstaking process at a distillery: filter out the garbage. We live in excessive times, so garbage is often redefined as things we need or cannot live without. Why? So many gradations of grey become oppressive, yet streamlining often feels corporate or xenophobic. None of us are one sleek definition – we are a melting stream of influences. How does that affect our decision-making? I defy singular definitions, yet I want my life to have direction and meaning. Most of all, I want to be understood. I believe we can call this the power of choice. We choose one romantic partner over another; we choose pizza over burgers; we choose red lipstick over pink. Seems so pedestrian, but it’s a liberating concept.