"So, Joe, how long have you been doing this?" "Well, actually, I think it's 18 years to the day." "Really? Today is the 18th anniversary?" "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Joe Murphy, an unassuming man in his 40s, is sitting in front of me with a "peace chain" hanging down his neck.  In 1991, when he was 25, he took a piece of clay and inscribed the word peace into it. Amorphous shapes soon evolved into pendants.  "I was an artist, and this was my expression of peace," he remembers. Like Peace Pilgrim, who walked 25 thousand miles for peace, making these pendants would be Joe's contribution to the world.  And like Peace Pilgrim, he also had no plans of stopping.

"In 18 years, I have made 431,204 pieces," Joe says. "I will make them the rest of my life."  Joe Murphy is now known as Joe Peace.  "It's become a daily practice, a way of finding peace, piece by piece."

If the story ended there, it'd be an inspiring one.  But it gets even more awe-inspiring:  Joe has gifted away every single peace chain! Every single one.

Each peace chain has a unique design on one side and an inscription of "peace" -- in one of 75 languages -- on the other side. They're downright gorgeous! Instead of selling it, though, he gifts them. In the true spirit of a gift-economy, people offer donations and he's been able to carve out his basic living expenses. "It's simple but healthy lifestyle," Joe says.

"You've been doing this from the beginning?"  "Yeah, right from the start."  "Why?"  "Just felt right."  "Have you always been able to cover your livelihood from gifts?"  "First few years I had to work part-time, but since then, I've been okay."  "So you just make peace chains full time?"  "Yeah," Joe says with a faint smile.

It really is remarkable.  To be sitting in front of someone who is unflinchingly clear that he has to do something for peace in the world, that he will continue making peace chains for the rest of his life, and that he cannot imagine putting a price tag on such a labor of love.

Peace is not easy.  And neither are peace chains.  It's hard work to hand-make tens of thousands peace chains.  It requires equipment, all the  work is tough on your back, and each process spans a couple of days.  "Yoga and meditation have always been a part of my equation, so that helps," Joe shares, without the slightest hint of weariness.

Doing gift economy isn't easy either -- and Joe doesn't do gift economy online.   He mainly goes to fairs and events, and sets up a booth.  People often get confused about how much to give.  "I often tell people that it is a sliding scale from zero to infinity. My sign has always said: 'Free. I Accept Donations', but in the late nineties, I added a 'I suggest $3 to $10' sign."   Some people also get greedy -- and it's easy to want more when you see how beautiful these peace chains really are! -- and so Joe sets a limit of one gift-economy transaction per person (additional pieces are a minimum of $3).  "It works out best when I can actually interact with the person and we have an eye-to-eye connection.  With big events, it's hard to do that," he explains.  At some events, Joe has actually given away over 14,000 pieces in one weekend!

"When you make offerings in this unconditional way, you must have some remarkable stories," I probe curiously.  "Oh yeah, great stories," he says while unzipping a pocket of his backpack.  He takes out a little orange notebook and while leafing through it, adds, "I always forget all the stories, so I write down some of them here."  After a pause, he speaks while still looking at the book, "Like this woman who wrote in saying that she was on a bus and saw someone wearing a Peace Chain and they started a conversation and became great friends!"

As we near the end of our story-sharing session, he throw in a grande finale: "And one time, this guy calls me up to express his thanks.  His mom used to wear a peace chain, and when she passed away suddenly, they had to cremate her body.  When her son received the ashes, they also gave him the peace chain since that couldn't be burned.  So he has now started to wear it, as a reminder of his mom, of peace, of gift."

If I wasn't sitting right in front of him, it might even be hard to believe this story.  When Joe handed me the 100 Peace Chains I had requested, I could almost feel the love in them.  It was clear that these were hand-made with conscious intention.  And such things can never have a price tag.  "This is priceless," I quip.

As we part ways, I hand him an envelope with an offering.  On top of it is an little inscription: "Thank you, Peace Chains!"  Joe quietly points out that he doesn't call it "Peace Chains" -- it's "A Peace Chain".  For Joe, this is all ONE project, one giant peace chain connected through these small pendants.  "It is not just the pieces that are this work of art,” Joe says.  “It is what is between each piece -- all of us!"