I grew up in an intentional community, but it was only after I grew up that it became intentional. After thirty years I’m still trying to understand my intention.
I love music, folk music. Rock, Blues, Country, its all in there as folk music. I write folk music, I play it. I play it to understand myself and other humans.
My wife planted a kiss on me this morning that was sweeter than any I remember in ten years. There are anthologies of tune in that one kiss. Volumes of titles. I realized I’m in love again. Three children and a combined extra weight of fifty pounds (mostly mine most likey) and I’m in love like never before.
I am an American. I live in a Culture of Death that my people export daily. I dare to live and love in that culture and be Called Out. I believe that a world where arms are not abused is possible. I believe in the possibility of a nonmalignant use of force. I’ve never seen it. I’ve heard of such things. Read of such things. I’m not a pacifist but I hold a picture in my heart of the same world by different means. All I have is faith. But I hear it moves mountains.
That’s a little about me.