I’m a habitual wanderer, a daydreamer, a floater with no clear destination or objective. This is me, lost in thought, juggling the present with the past, translating smells into nostalgia, or chasing a train of thought through a maze that often leads elsewhere, a realization or- more often than not- a switchback that leads to yet another track.

I think. I write. I think about writing or write about thinking. I dote on my son and admire my wife. I run. I read. I talk. I think more.

I’m out there now, silent. Still. Searching for what may come next.