When I think about my father + I there are few memories. Some of which are tainted with absence, addiction, laughter + hurt; yet it all tells a beautiful story of a man I never knew. When I think over the history of my life experiencing my father, I remember the silence of a man that never understood the power of his own words due to the pain of his own parents. His laughter was filled with all the things that he often desired as a child but never got to enjoy until he became a man. His stature was built from being torn down from the lack of a mothers’ touch, a father’s affirmation + a world that didn’t see the value in him. His anger was often like the wind, unpredictable + harsh; but if you were armed with the right stance you could learn a lot from his breeze.