I've always loved Greek mythology. The idea of gods and goddesses looking down on us. Intersecting with us. The muses whispering to us. Do you know the story of Icarus? It was always one of my favorite Greek myths.

Icarus and his father were trapped on the island of Crete, near Greece. The dad was a master craftsman, so he made wings for them out of wax and feathers, so they could fly off the island. But when they did fly, Icarus got excited and flew too high and got too close to the sun. It melted the wax and the feathers came off and he fell into the sea.

All my life I've reached for the sky. I've had big dreams and set high goals for myself. I'm an artist at heart. I've yearned to find truth and beauty and convey it through my writing, all my words and my songs. I've worked to perfect my craft. I've gotten REALLY, really close. But these days, I don't know. It seems there's no real truth --- it's all relative right? What's true anymore? Everything beautiful has been corrupted and defiled. It's tainted with the stink of this world.

There are so many broken things that cannot be fixed. So many broken things. I feel like all my labor has been in vain. What's the point? The higher I've tried to fly, the more I seem to lose my strength. The more I lose altitude. I'm disoriented these days. I've been hearing them calling me. Home. Away from all this. I just want to FLY home where they're waiting for me.

Icarus 1
Icarus 2
Icarus 3