My Quiet Stories

When Donnie passed in 2017, everything changed. After nearly 40 years together, I knew I wouldn’t rebuild that kind of life with anyone else — and I didn’t want to. What started as a financial decision became something far more meaningful. I returned to the family farm where I was born and cleared a spot deep in the woods — just me and Jack, my old dog, figuring things out.

At first, it was about getting by. But that quiet space helped me survive the loss of Donnie. Solitude gave me time to reflect and the clarity to make decisions I could live with. What started as a necessity has become a commitment. This is my life now — and the best decision I’ve made, short of joining the Navy.

The name The Queer Hermit came naturally. I’ve never been ashamed of being gay — it’s just who I am. And as I’ve grown into this off-grid rhythm, I’ve come to appreciate the simple joys again. I’ve built four structures so far, including a short school bus I now call home.

These days, I walk the woods and gather little treasures — branches, seed pods, bits of nature — and coat them in copper, silver, or gold metallic paint. They become small, beautiful things. I’ll be selling them locally at flea markets, keeping it simple. Just like everything else in my life now.

Home

At The Queer Hermit, I share the quiet, rooted life I’ve built in the West Virginia woods — one shaped by solitude, loss, resilience, and queer identity. You’ll find stories of off-grid living, simple comforts, personal reflections, and the everyday beauty of staying put.

Feel free to explore, read at your own pace, and stay as long as you’d like.

• The Genius of the American Crow: Lessons in Queer Solitude
• Silence Doesn’t Mean Weakness
• The Benefits of Writing on Paper
• Lessons in Off-Grid Living You Can Learn from Gilligan’s Island
• Why You Should Build a Personal Library in the Digital Age