I am concerned, bright, curious, fun, lost. Swimming in a sea of ideas. Each pull at my feet, grasp my waist, and entangle my arms. I cannot swim, but I do not drown. I am locked in an eternal struggle, tortured by my inability to catch or hold on to any of the ideas that are always there just in front of my nose. As I age, the desire to create something novel grows. I know I cannot take anything with me when I die, but I can leave something behind. I will leave pieces of my body, my DNA (4 kids), and a record of my existence. I yearn to leave a few of my thoughts so that others can know a little about my journey.