Writing is a medium. I am a large. I try to fit into it as best I can, but I end up busting seams.

I and the family I have accumulated thus far reside among the mountains with the blue ridges, east of the plains and west of the sea. It is a place called home which had, for a time, been forgotten but to which I returned like a jolly revenant.

There are three things under which I am a student and for which I write this blog, yes even four things I love to learn and to describe. The created world, the conjured word, the glue between humans, and the love of God.

I call myself a writer because, good or bad, writing is what comes out of me more than anything else.



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