Lost and found

Memories can be treacherous things. Events and people in our past often take on near mythical proportion when compared to our present. I am not immune to this phenomenon. But just recently I've had the romanticized attachment to my own past at least somewhat justified. A friend I believed to be lost to the vagaries of life suddenly reappeared. Gotta love the internet. His friendship is one I've often missed, especially during my second and third decades. Bound by a common creative bent and the innocence of youthful pursuits it's nice to discover that we have, or so it seems, remained interesting to each other. Our life trajectories have apparently moved along a similar artistic arc. He's a wordsmith and I'm an image maker, a couple of storytellers using different tools. Welcome back Mr. Ellis.