Why Words Matter






I believe …


Truth is eternal, is a sentient presence, and rightly is called by many names.

Goodness has grit, is inherent in every human being, and springs from truth.

Evil, as the opposite of truth, is by definition not a presence but an

·          absence of truth,

·          missing the knowledge that leads to truth, but

·          subject to truth’s eventual illumination


… that revelation leads to elucidation, which is inevitable.





I believe …


Evil may evade, subvert, or mislead and yet truth prevails as knowledge reveals itself.

Knowledge replaces evil through the words we use as tools to fashion new ideas.

Ignorance is another name for evil and is an absence of knowledge that manifests through

·          chaos (having no knowledge),

·          confusion (lacking clarity by possessing information without understanding), and

·          fear (desiring no change once insight reveals that transformation is required)


… that change is both necessary and good.





I believe …


Words don’t just define, articulate, or reveal meaning; they create it.

The universe exists, endures, and expands as the word construct calls it into being.

Words, in toto across time, make up a body of knowledge that is itself corporate

·          defining,

·          articulating, and

·          revealing


… that we are sentient, transcendent beings in the midst of fulfilling that word human.




Late in the Middle Ages,many devout folk across Europe followed a custom of making a pilgrimage to a religious shrine. One such procession,from London to Canterbury,is now immortalized in Western culture. Every pilgrim in that caravan took turns crafting tales to help carry fellow sojourners (and now us) through the boredom and hardships of the long journey. Storyteller is who I am as a Southerner. My muse calls out to me imploring me to write—and calls me out when I do so less than eloquently. My hope is to make literate use of words to weave thoughts into baskets that can bear the weight of literary substance;baskets that will wait no longer to bare my baggage for all to see as I travel the Long Journey. Glean what you will as you inspect my luggage. While I am compelled to write,the choice is mine to share my words with you here.

Won’t you join me on the journey?

Go back to Biography.