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The world and the word were both born from silence. Order drawn from chaos; a way of defining that which is beyond definition; a way of telling the person beside you what you see -- how things appear from your place in the mess; a means of hope. Maybe that is why I love words. I admit I am addicted to the written word. I cannot remember a time when I was not addicted to it. Written words are not like people; they demand committment but not consideration. They do not turn and alter their voice and their meaning when you turn away from them or give them to another. They provide doorways to places where security is guaranteed. Always.


I believe in magic. Frequently, we run away from the big words, the simple words like "sad, love, afraid, true, evil." Those words, simple and pure, carry with them the magic of faith in a world where things have order. Somewhere along the path to adulthood, that magic is lost or discarded. And yet, somewhere along our journey, we have the choice to reclaim it, to gather up its scattered pieces and bring with us leftover magic.

This place is my corner of the web, my bit of fantasy. It includes a little information about me, access to the webpages for the humanities classes I teach for Central Florida Community College, and a link to my online journal where I occasionally find time to post essays and bits of everyday life. Welcome to you, and may you find your own magic and God's blessing.