Shooting is embedded in my brain, frivolity isn’t. At twenty-nine now, I am beginning to learn that smiling isn’t a sin. Am I fun? Not on the surface. For too long my interests were too few, my life condensed to my sport. No girlfriends. No parties. No hobbies. No distractions. I watch movies, carrying ten to twelve around on long trips, but they are only my escape. Next morning, ask me the story and I couldn’t tell you. Food is not a fascination, though the older I get the harder I search for Indian restaurants abroad. Familiarity becomes comfort.
