Breaking Free 

You would laugh if you knew how long I've been fiddling with this sad little shed of a site.  I knew that I needed to do this after following a Cool Site of the Day link about three years ago to a page by Seattlite Eve Anders called "The Garden of Eve", a site which no longer seems to exist.  

Some people (maybe a lot of people?) could care less about the stories of someone they've never met or heard of.  I know this is true; on occasion I'll send a friend to a personal site that floated my boat and more often than not they return unphased.  How can you not see it?  I guess I've had similar experiences with music and books. 

I let a lot of things hold me back.  Not having my own personal PC was of course a significant barrier.  But well before remedying that with a call to a certain cow-spotted retailer, as I penned notes for these pages I asked myself over and over, not "why am I doing this?" but "is it worth the risk"? 

The sites I admire most reveal a truth, a view inside that person.  But of course that disclosure can be a very dangerous thing.  In sharing these stories we open ourselves up to ridicule, to questions, to apathy.  (What's the difference between ignorance and apathy?  I don't know and I don't care.  ba-dum-bump.)  But we also create the possibility that someone out there in the darkness is going to smile or laugh or recognize a part of themselves. 

And thus my answer. 

So on this Bastille Day (Allez Le France!) I'm busting loose from the prison and inviting you to return to my little campfire, lit from the sparks of others, perhaps even yours. 

In the end all we own is our story.  I promise you nothing but mine, given freely with both hands. 
 
 -Christopher

p.s.  Step in a little closer to the fire and let me see you.