Creative writing was one of the first pleasures I remember as a seven-year old, my favorite form of solitary play. I come from a family of free-thinkers and nomads, a few of whom pushed the rules just to the breaking point, and much of what they did confounded me as a kid. Making up stories and writing trite poetry was a way to try to escape them and inspect them.

Eventually I went to college and then to San Diego State University to finish a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing. Later, after a short stint in the tech sector, I quit to travel, learn Spanish, meet people I wouldn’t otherwise meet, and figure out how to make a living while being a writer, if not as one. I eventually found my way to Latin America and to work with Indigenous communities on things that matter every day and throughout one’s life. When that experience came to a close, I moved to Portland, Oregon then followed the path back home to San Diego, where I live with my partner and pets, trying to harvest what life teaches me about what Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh calls “inter-being.”