I was once a baby boy from Indiana. Raised on pork chops and Jeopardy, comfort and innocent calamity. Messes and no regrets, my career as a child was successful in finding the extraordinary in what was for all intents and purposes the plainest part of the world according to many.
I turned my focus on an enterprise that served these wild and impractical aspirations of distraction. There, somewhere in the distractions and fantasies I found an unabashed truthfulness.
Deep in the jungle of thought, a certain something waits deep in the shadows. In an ancient temple of inspiration and creative auras, there lies the one thing all creators seek: a story.
A story to lift you, a story to make you realize something. A thought in passing that could become a lifetime of memory, a notion that there is something more.