When I was a boy, I wrote comic strips about robots and time travelers. I saw the vehicles lining the base of the rolling hills in the Southwest corner of Wyoming. I wondered where they were going, and I knew each one of those drivers had a story. This life neighboring the interstate is one that begets a fascination with time and distance, set against a backdrop of a western land from another time.
At the end of the day, I would listen to the highway traffic fleeing into a bold, amber horizon, and only the humming of the road lingered. I listened for more so I could feel whole.
Time and distance influenced my pursuits and worldview because I was in the proper conditions to be shaped by them. I listened so attentively that here we are:
I’m still obsessing over the gulfs between fictional lovers, friends, communities, and all others who push to create distance between the truth and themselves. I write about that.
I’m still lamenting the cruelty and magic of time, and how the craft of capturing those and that which is bound to leave us, is the greatest gift of all. I want to capture that joyfully and honestly.
This is why I listen, and write, and record. What shaped you?