the voice

I am a writer, a poet, an artist, and a fool—and, at long last, no longer an itinerant engineer. I grew up (provided one uses a sufficiently elastic definition of the term) across the landscapes of Indiana, New Jersey, Ohio, and Colorado.

Following a series of colorful misadventures, I found myself living in the rainforest outside Hilo, Hawaii, alongside my wife, the amazing Shawndra Holmberg; her sister, the equally brilliant writer Anne Avery; three dogs; two cats; and several imaginary friends, most of whom are apparently named Bob.

Eventually, the mammals followed me to Western Pennsylvania—a land where everyone wears a beard, rides a Harley, and puts French fries on their salads. The Bobs, of course, were already here waiting for us.

Unfortunately, also waiting was a diagnosis of Primary Progressive Aphasia (logopenic variant). It is a condition that seeks to rob me of my words and the man I always thought I was. But while the words may be harder to find, the stories—and the fool—remain.