sum of all parts

After I sold out of my business, I ran. Fast. I have, in these past three years, been lucky enough to live on four continents. I have shot photo essays up and down the Mekong River through Vietnam and Cambodia. I have taught scuba diving to tourists on a small Honduran island in the waters of the Caribbean. I have traveled halfway across the United States on a roaring v-twin, living out of saddlebags and a tent. I have poured cocktails in the rowdy red light mecca that is King’s Cross in Sydney, Australia. I have put pen to paper in a cramped eighteenth century bedsit overlooking Amsterdam’s glorious Prinsengracht canal. I have fallen in love with, and married, a beautiful and exciting woman who makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world every time I see her smiling face. I look at all of these things, and at just how much I love to share them with people and I have come to remember something that should have remained as obvious to me through my youthful ambition and premature achievements as it is to any child. I remembered that there is little on this earth that can compare to a great story.