As a child, gazing at the stars and thumbing through National Geographic always provided a necessary
escape from an unwavering sensation of being trapped. Trapped by less-than-favorable circumstances in my family, trapped by being constantly teased at school, trapped by my own small yet rapidly obsessive and chattering mind. After the magazine's stories of far-away people and habitats and scientific space material had been devoured, I'd sprawl across a sleeping bag in the dry summer lawn of my rural childhood home, staring up at the vast sky with its pinpricks of stars, streaming satellites and meteors streaking through the atmosphere. Attempting to comprehend just how far away, and just how old, the stars were unraveled everything inside of me in the best of ways.
