Some songs became memories. Others became maps. A few found me when I was no longer sure I wanted to be found.
These are the pieces of my story that pass through this color. Some belong here completely. Others touch several prisms at once. Together they reveal one angle of a life that has never fit neatly inside a single story.
Every person you have ever loved is standing at the end of an impossible chain of things that could have gone differently. Think about what had to happen for you to be sitting wherever you are right now, reading these...
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In the summer of 2006, everything I owned fit inside a duffel bag, and every night I slept with my head on top of it. I was staying at Lighthouse Mission in downtown Indianapolis with roughly two hundred other men. Ab...
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Return to the spectrum and choose another prism, or step into the complete archive and follow the stories wherever they lead.
