Christopher Arendt, son by way of deranged tale to a man by the name of Sputnik Mixon, had always wanted to graduate from the rank of trailer trash so he joined the part-time Army to become a part-time man. Then the Great War on Terror came and soon he found himself in Guantanamo Bay where he watched many a sun rise on men praying for freedom and he realized that something was not right in the world.

Years later, after much wandering and self abuse, he found himself on another sunny island with scissors in his hands cutting up all the nasty moments that the sun had burned into them and the prayer of the detainees came to him. Freedom.

He quit his job and took off down the road. Now he writes, but nobody pays him because he is free.

Chris traveled with the Combat Paper Project in the United Kingdom in 2009 and completed a residency at Kalamazoo Book Arts in 2010. You can read some of his recent work on his personal blog page.