When I’m suspended in air, there is no concept of time or reality, and I am focused only on one thing. That thing is writing. As the jet floats by puffy, cotton candy-like clouds, I work the keyboard.

Two nights ago, I flew back from NYC. Butters’ warm body was pressed up to my feet. And at that moment, I had all I needed to feel secure as I wrote about my Dad, about finding Airstream Bambi, the trips I’ve taken and the lessons I’ve learned.

With the help of a friend, I’m working on a writing project. In reality, I am always working on a writing project. But this one is different. It is part picture book, travelogue, and love story. My hope is that readers will find the story compelling and useful.

I took my first writing workshop in 2009. And since then, I’ve attended many more. It took me this long to feel comfortable enough in my own skin. It took me this long to feel that I could share my writing and photos with a broader audience. An audience who knows nothing about me but can find a connection between the words I write.

Without the safety net I have in you, I would not embark on this particular flight.

As always, thank you for reading.