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Born on one continent and raised on another, I somehow managed to relate to everyone while staying somewhere on the outside. I never had all the right customs and sayings and experiences to line up with everyone else, but I still had to fit in the picture somehow. I was a stranger in a familiar land.
But there were a couple things that kept me tethered. Anchored me when I felt like I was better suited in other lands. One language that everyone spoke and I could answer.
The Story.
The variety of means that people shared their experiences and thoughts. Their inner selves and their outer personas. The lonely heartbreak in a melody. The exhilarating thrill in a movie. The unsettling question in a painting. Above all, I loved a good sit-down around the dining room table while a yarn of exaggerated past events was woven before my eyes.
Nothing beat the spell I would fall into as I saw a glimpse into another person's life. What details they remembered and what they meant. I was surrounded by millions of unique stories and I was in one too.
Unfortunately, I can't sit down with all of you and hear each story individually, but I can at least share parts of my own. This website is a collection of some of the ways I share myself.
A few scattered fragments of what I call my multitrack mind.
-Benton
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