One: “A Portrait of Ansel Kincaid”
"A Portrait of Ansel Kincaid" - Close Up Image: 30 x 40 x 0.75 inches
What follows is a brief biography of Ansel Kincaid. Our protagonist and most common narrator throughout “A Highway of Intrusive Thoughts”.
Name: Ansel Kincaid
Age: 38
Occupation: Freelance Graphic Design
Location: Shadowbrook
Ansel Kincaid was born beneath the fog-stained skies of a coastal city, where the blowing winds carried both the scent of possibility and the ache of something unspoken. The only child of a fractured marriage, he grew up in two homes that shared one common thread: reverence for creation. His father, a meticulous tradesman with calloused hands and a quiet soul, taught him the discipline of craft. His mother, a painter whose canvases bled emotion, taught him the courage to feel. Between them, Ansel learned that beauty could be built — and that sometimes, it had to be wrestled from chaos.
Even in this nurturing duality, Ansel felt a persistent vibration beneath the surface of his life. A vague unease that began in childhood, shapeless and silent, like fog creeping through a desolate main street. By adolescence, it had found its voice — a chorus of intrusive thoughts that arrived uninvited and refused to leave. They whispered catastrophes during moments of calm, rewrote joy into dread, and turned ordinary days into mind altering war grounds.
Whenever Ansel tried to express his worries, the sudden anxiety that his loved ones might disappear, brought on by the imaginary catastrophes running through his mind, resulted in being met with bewilderment, dismissal, or gentle downplaying. Eventually, he taught himself to keep these feelings in an internal graveyard. He learned to smile despite the turbulence and became quite a master of masking with tranquility.
"A Portrait of Ansel Kincaid" - Framed Image
After high school, Ansel enrolled at a local community college, where he stumbled into a graphic design course that felt like a revelation. The act of shaping color, form, and emotion into something tangible gave him a sense of control he’d never known. He transferred to the Shadowbrook School of Design, a small but fiercely creative institution nestled in a town that mirrored his internal landscape — misty, moody, but quietly magnetic. He graduated with honors, his portfolio a vivid tapestry of tension and tenderness.
Freelance work came quickly. Ansel’s designs — raw, emotive, and often haunting — resonated with clients across the country. His art became both a refuge and a mirror, reflecting the turmoil he rarely spoke aloud. Success did little to quiet the unwelcome companion in his mind. The thoughts persisted, morphing and multiplying, especially in moments of stillness. A quiet evening could spiral into visions of fire, illness, or social ruin. A minor ache could bloom into an imagined terminal diagnoses.
For Ansel, relationships proved difficult. He kept people at arm’s length, fearing his internal chaos would either overwhelm them or drive them away. Still, a few close friends remained — kindred spirits who understood that connection didn’t require perfection, only honesty. They became his lifelines, helping him navigate the labyrinth of his own mind.
Now 38, Ansel remains in Shadowbrook, a town whose perpetual overcast skies feel both oppressive and oddly comforting. He continues to freelance, balancing high-profile design projects with deeply personal artistic explorations. Recently, he took a step he’d long feared: therapy. In that quiet room, he began to peel back the layers of his past, naming the traumas that shaped him and learning to challenge the thoughts that once felt immutable.
Therapy hasn’t silenced the unwelcome companion, but it has given Ansel tools — and more importantly, hope. He’s learning to coexist with his thoughts without surrendering to them. Through his art and his story, he hopes to offer others a map through the fog. Not a cure, but a compass. Not perfection, but progress.
"A Portrait of Ansel Kincaid" - Wall Shot
Examples of Ansel's Intrusive Thoughts
Catastrophic Thinking: Even during peaceful moments, Ansel’s mind conjures disaster. He imagines car crashes, fires, or sudden loss — vivid scenes that hijack his calm and replace it with panic.
Social Anxiety: In conversations, he fears saying the wrong thing, being misunderstood, or judged. He replays interactions obsessively, convinced he’s made irreparable mistakes.
Health Anxiety: A headache becomes a brain tumor. A bruise becomes a blood clot. Ansel’s mind leaps to worst-case scenarios, sending him into spirals of fear and frequent doctor visits.
These thoughts don’t define Ansel, but they shape his days. He’s learning, slowly, to interrupt the cycle. To breathe through the panic. To choose curiosity over fear. And most of all, to believe that healing is possible — even if it comes one thought, one brushstroke, one breath at a time.