The old steam radiator hissed loudly, making it feel cozy in my room. Inhaling the earthy scent of incense, I sat cross legged on the rug my grandmother had hooked with her own hands. I don’t know who I thought I was fooling, thinking the Nag Champa would disguise the scent of smoke swirling up from the Marlboro in the ashtray next to me.
COMING SOON! A little bit about Graham Nash and what his music has meant to me on my journey.
