Hello. Most people call me Dara. I also go by Mandaloo, Mandoola, Ginger, Mandy, Mango, Wendy, ManDoodle Bob, and- more recently- Mandara, the Girl Who Started a Riot.

I'm a secret keeper, I'm a hand holder, I'm the one who wants to be inspired as much as I want to inspire others.

I weave words as a pass time, a writer of sorts. I also consider myself an artist, but then again, who these days doesn't? I work with ink, charcoal, pastel, acrylic, and water color.

I'm indecisive. I'm kind of quirky. Sometimes I lose touch with reality. I am overly sarcastic at times. I try to be understanding and see things from other peoples point of view. I sometimes over analyze things.

I have a slight case of OCD.

I'm figuring out my way in the world. I'm making a living as a student who has huge dreams. I laugh out loud and have a half grin that I over use. (Smirk, grin... Either or depending on how you see it.)

I Like;
Long Car Rides With The Windows All The Way Down And The Music All The Way Up.
Wearing oversized button down shirts to sleep...
Art. Batman. Paint. Music/ Writing. Theatre. Bedhead. Spending time with friends. The colours red, silver, blue, and green. Thunder and lightning storms. Snow. Autumn. Night time. The Beach. Black and white photos. Rollerblading. Sleeping. Reading. Comics. Sharpies. Aging artifacts. Architecture. Salt and vinegar chips. Tattoos. Snuggling. Smoke. Note passing. Doodling. New shirts. Bags. Jackets. Combat boots. Necklaces. Daydreaming. Scheming.

I Dislike;
Mondays. Ice. Cold Feet. Stress. When I forget to bring my towel into the bathroom with me. When I misplace my phone, wallet, lighter, or chapstick. That feeling that you get in the pit of your stomach when you know you're in deep trouble. Being completely forgotten. Losing a friend. When I drop a notebook or novel or sketch pad and the papers get folded. Feeling like I've forgotten something. Dishonesty. Disloyalty.

My Dreams And Goals;
Someday I want to have a motorcycle.
I want to publish 4 books at the least while I'm alive.
I want to sell what I can of my art work.
Sometime in the next year I want to figure out at least a vague idea of what I want to do with my life.
I am going to travel outside of the US.
I want to meet someone imperfect that I can understand as perfectly flawed.
I want to pierce my ears a few more times.