david k warfel
From left: my grandfather, oldest sister, either me or my brother in my dad's arms, a neighbor, and my mother. I have no idea why this picture was taken, but this is what I called the front porch of the farm house. I am an overly-sensitive midwestern farm boy, which means I grew up in... Continue Reading →
My own journey towards the light is less of a straight line than an upwards spiral. I tend to lose my way frequently, like a moth drawn to a streetlight. It can take a seemingly outsized effort to pull me away from the artificial and back towards my true nature. Hmm. That sounds nice, but... Continue Reading →
The start of a new series, part memoir of darkness, part manifesto of light.
the language of light 