I was born in 1945 to an Icelandic mother who married an American soldier of Greek descent. My biological father Leon Tsagaris was sent to Europe in the last months of the Second World War, a few weeks before I was born. After the war, he was sent to the United States. My mother Elisabet was hesitant to follow with an infant. Divorced by distance and circumstances, a few years later, my mother met Simon, a fine Icelandic machinist and they married and gave me two younger brothers.

I had a happy childhood in Reykjavik among cousins and friends. The summer months were spent working on a farm in the east country. The farmers were old local siblings who had never strayed or married, and their working methods were somewhat medieval. The battery powered radio was solely used for the evening news. The discussions were on farm tasks, and an old poem or two. The utter isolation away from the city showed me another way of life. I did not realize at the time that this was an important lesson.

During my early teenage and formative years , I was a footloose kid who was into everything, from photography to practicing hypnoses. Having a bit of a rebel streak, I took little interest in school or lessons construed for parrots. The stray jobs of these times during the summer months were far more interesting; everything from offloading fish from harbor trawlers to working as a bank teller. In Iceland, every input was needed, and this easy hands-on participation gave young people a sense of a common goal. This access has gradually diminished for young people throughout the last half century, as society became more structured and bureaucratic.

My formal education had its back broken by my refusal to learn the Latin that back then was the requisite for higher education. I passed the grades but this was the last year where you could not continue your education without Latin. I dropped out of the mathematical line and did not miss college. I fell in love with Anna and we made our home, had 4 children and got married at such an early age that it demanded special permission from the President. Working for airlines, living happily, hand to mouth in rented apartments, we visited New York for the first time. Looking for a direction, I wrote articles for newspapers, and a short story 'The Ashes' as a moral pill about the Second Coming. Needless to say; there was no money in it.

At about that time; the idea of the Primal Code was born, As an uneducated heretic, I had no way of interesting the Church of Science in that first sketch of a theory that was mainly conceptual. When the Latin of today (mathematics) gives us a correct outcome, this is equated with understanding. The reason that fundamental physics are in such a mess is that understanding has been going to seed for ages. The concise way of using formulae to symbolically express relationships between quantities makes no demand on what these quantities are; much less why they are. Even today, our science does not know what a matter is, or what energy is, much less why. And gravity is best swept under the mathematical mat along with magnetism. My undertaking to finish the Primal Code on my own is optimistic to say the least but I cannot let it die on the wine; I still work on it every day.

I spent 8 years as oil executive at Shell with a headquarter office, overseeing operations. This included construction of various buildings and oil depots, attesting bills, and editing the Shell magazine. At the same time I tried my hand at publishing my own magazine "Verold" styled after Time and Newsweek. Although this multi-tasking was appealing, I could never really accept myself as a bureaucrat. We gave up renting and bought a two-story house in central Reykjavik, with two run down apartments that we joined and built a third story on top; a large painter's studio with floor-to-ceiling windows and skylights. Without any money whatsoever, the scrounging to finance this mad operation was the mother of all of creative endeavors, but we pulled it off.

Although heavy in dept, I quit my comfortable job to try my hand at painting and writing. Anna took over a small handbag sewing business but here the competition from Asia was already becoming fierce. In the two years that followed, as a young man, I had two one man shows. Both sold out, but I could not accept being tied to that grind for the rest of my life either. I wrote my first novel, and it was published. The Primal Code was also eating into my time. Now we wanted to move to mainland Europe for a couple of years, and southern Europe tempted us with its lead back lifestyle, but the Scandinavian education of the children steered us to Sweden. And so we sold our house.

We bought an old run down patrician villa in the fashionable seaside village of Falsterbo in Sweden. To finance its extensive upcoming renovation, I took up working weekends in a flooring factory. The next quarter of a century provided a tranquil life in a beautiful home. We travelled Europe with the kids. I dabbled in painting and writing, this time in English, always seeking to understand the Universe through The Primal Code. Anna worked in Malmo, and a few summers, she run a small local art gallery. However, as the artist was mostly otherwise engaged, too few new works were forthcoming. Through this all, our 4 children had flown the coup and brought us innumerable grandchildren and recently great grandchildren; our proudest achievement.

In 2008, we decided to sell Villa Parkbo for a million dollars, at the top of the market, and move to the friendly city of Malmo. By then neither of us had worked outside the home for years. We bought a splendid apartment in the town center, and guess what; we paid in cash. Without financial worries, I continue to go around with a primal monkey on my back. Nevertheless, I have allowed writing to play a more prominent role, and am planning an orignal way of painting. Time moves at a leisurely pace; I learned that on a backwards farm in eastern Iceland half a century ago. Given such a pace, I may update this biography in a quarter century or so.

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