Chainmail • Fantasy and Legends Organization

Who am I? That's a good question. It's one I'm not sure I have an answer to. After all, what defines me? Is it this body? It changes constantly. Is it my experiences? There are always new ones of those, too. There is no single thing that can be identified as me, and yet here I am. The most I can offer is a glimpse of a few things that have brought me to this point and some of my other interests (see links above), not because any of them define me, but so you can watch your imagination build an image of me with each added element. That's story, a wonderful, malleable unfolding of perception. That's also life. We "are" for only a split second. All the rest is our own myth.

Mt.Katahdin, Maine—northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Who doesn't love rocks? Rocks are great. I've climbed all over them for as long as I can remember. But this was the beginning of my experience with rocks as geology. As part of my B.S. in geology I attended a field camp in Maine. My marks there landed me an internship with the U.S. Geological Survey in Connecticut, and I eventually settled into environmental consulting as a hydrogeologist. But I'll never forget the knife edge of Katadhin. Standing on the high places of the world touches the spirit and fuels the imagination. They hurl us out into the magic of creation.

My wife. In a way, geology led me to her, as well. We met working as tour guides in a cavern during our high-school years. I then proceeded to take her to a non-commercial cave on our first date. It's not a plan I recommend, but despite the snakes, spiders, cold water, crawling, darkness, and bottomless pits, she kept me. Like the heights, caves are places of magic. Their depths touch us in a different way, leading us inward to hidden realms of wonder. You have only to look at the faerie queen I found, and all your doubts will vanish.

My niece and nephew. I only see them once or twice a year, but if the high and low places bring to us the raw essence of magic, children are magic incarnate. They merge the concrete and the imagined in a way that defies logic and yet defines creation. In our own child mind lies the key to giving and receiving stories. The stories aren't just stories, after all, but gateways to new ways of looking at the world. And, in the words of motivational speaker Dr. Wayne Dyer, "when we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change."

Medieval me. Medieval history is one of my passions and is what has led me to favor the fantasy genre in my writing. Or perhaps my love of fantasy led me to delve into the history and myth at its source. In any case, the knightly image captured my imagination at an early age. The metal I'm wearing is a replica of a 14th century suit of armour, which I have used to share my own enthusiasm for the knight in history and story in schools and at museum exhibitions. But more than that, it symbolizes the quest and reminds me that not only do I have to find my grail, but I have to bring it back and share it, or it is worthless.

Cahir Castle, Ireland. Did you really expect me to go on about magic and never bring up Ireland? Of course I went to Ireland. And of course I sought out the magical places. They are there... hidden, but there. You won't find the magic in any of the expected places—Tara, Emain Macha, or Newgrange. They are all great historical sites, but they have been overly explored... dug up, trampled, and touristed. The magic lies in the out of the way places like creevykeel, rathcroghan, oweynaght, and places with no name. Places that haven't been explored with a shovel where you can stand and feel the ages blow through you. Interestingly enough, the most powerful tended toward the very high or very low. They're hard to find, but that's how magic is. Oh, and if you want to write about castles, there's nothing quite like standing in one. I thought that after a dozen or so, I'd get tired of them and be ready to seek out something different. I was wrong. Castles are like rocks. They're great. But then, of course, they are made from rocks.

Who am I?

...at least for starters.

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There, at the end of the world,

you are not what you were born,

but what you have it in yourself to be.

~Godfrey, "Kingdom of Heaven"