The first clear aspiration I remember having as a child was wanting to be an artist and a writer.
I was possessed by the idea that I could become an author by some pre-imagined time and live in a happily ever after of my own making.
It has taken me the majority of my adult life to return to the idea that I could or should write, much less share it with the world.
It may be true that your work will go unnoticed and that no one will care if you share it.
But someone might if you do.
Work is love made visible.
I was born in Denver, Colorado. I spent the first five years of my life sheltered in the promontory of Lionshead Rock by Cougar Trail. Aspen and arnica dotted the adjacent hillside, where I spent most of my time rock hounding with my family for the smokey quartz found within its roughly hewn crags.
From there we moved to Minnesota, eventually settling in Karlstad, scratching North Dakota to the west and Canada in the north. The flat western prairies I grew up roaming in gave way to the deciduous woodlands where we steaded. There, I rambled the forest until my mother rang the country dinner bell as dusk settled, calling me back home.
My family moved south then near my thirteenth birthday, settling in Lancaster, South Carolina. Despite humid piedmonts housing a mosquito population rivaling small birds in body mass, I spent my time there digging in the middens of abandoned 19th-century homes to find antique treasures.
I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, at nineteen, where I eventually pursued my post-secondary education at University of North Carolina, at Charlotte (UNCC). I cut my teeth on the humanities here, paving the road for my love of photography, performance art, and fine art. It was here that I earned my undergraduate degree in Anthropology and Technical Writing.
Today, I call Atlanta, Georgia, my home. Despite its subtropical and humid climate testing my cold natured inclinations, I’ve found refuge in its vibrancy and diversity. Nurturing my love of the arts among edifices of concrete, this city has become more like home than any place I’ve yet endeavored to put down roots.