On circling helicopters, broken hearts, and peace-breathing.

img_2667I’m listening right now to police and news choppers hovering overhead. The sound is relentless. Ominous. Heavy with heartbreak. Distinct with the rumble of grief. Apparently there was a suicide this morning at the high school near my home. A student. At 7:48 AM.

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When circles become full, hospitals become home, and you actually land your dream job at 18 years old.


Graduation day. Sorry for the blur, but check out those curls.

It took me 44 years to finally figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. In high school, everybody else was setting goals and making them happen. Not me. I was just restless. Wrapped up in my music, wrapped up in myself. Continue reading