Dylan Kraus: That Which Reveal Itself to Whom it May Concern

Dylan Kraus is a most unlikely monk. He wears giant North Face coats and camo, has tattoos like tendrils across his arms and neck, and is distractingly good-looking; boyish, blue-eyed, pillowed lips. And yet when I speak to him I’m not met with someone surly or aloof, but instead, Dylan is endlessly excited, gushing away in a gummy Ohio accent. Our conversation is more like a download, a waterfall of information in which Dylan describes to me the view of trees outside his window, tells me about Sufi poems from the thirteenth century, explains his love of birds, his connection to nature. I can’t help but be surprised, winded by his enthusiasm.