Having flown down to Little Rock to borrow a truck to get down to New Orleans with hopes of boarding an oil barge bound for the heart of the gulf of Mexico with nothing but my banjo, a few books, and an old army backpack I found myself in the middle of a tornado, dead cattle, and fallen trees. The next day I heard from the company the job that would surely get me back into university or at least out of the country was but a good idea nothing more. Before flying back to Oregon my father and brother asked and reasoned with me to stay due to having sold my car and having nothing but a banjo, an old army pack, a hundred dollars, and a poncho. The night before I flew out my father and I shared a class of whiskey in room 213 while I shared the few true reasons for my departure and that my biggest fear was that I would simply become a portrait of fragility amidst ruin.

Now I'm back in Oregon working three jobs with the my outstanding balance to Ozark Christian College within a few months of being paid and either homelessness in Europe, hiking the Pacific Rim trail, or Evergreen University within the year. Having traveled abroad and seen most of the U.S. in the last five years my desire is still the same...work in orphanages and refugee camps. I now can honestly say that it's closer than it was yesterday...