Exquisite Tastes
There's fine dining on Wonder Fell.
Wednesday, May 20, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Summer decided to visit Spring for a couple days yesterday. This morning is muggy, humid potential, an incubator for what's green.
Just a poet's morning journal to juxtapose the algorithmic AI Babylonian Cloud Beast so much of the Internet shows lately. A reminder our words, and so our lives, can be something more than Artificially Intelligent. Our lives can be Beautiful.
Thought we could all use a reminder: We are what we eat. Words and images are part of our diet. There's fine dining on Wonder Fell. You have exquisite tastes. Thanks for reading.
The site's changed its aesthetic over the years. The convention of blogposts to start off with a relevant pic of some sort I've replaced with the first page image of each handwritten journal entry.
Words are enough.
...
Did you ever wonder about poets and artists, what our lives are like and for?
There's something else here in every room with you. Some force that makes us want to create and share.
It's more than just the will to survive.
Did you ever look at a sunrise and think 'Wow, that's beautiful'?
Most of us have.
What's up with that?
Darwin and Einstein can't help make sense of that reality. We need artists and poets to answer that call.
O/
A certain sentiment like a certain sunrise swells in an artist. Perhaps it's an idea for a story, a memory of light for a painter, a melody like a robin's song for a musician. This dream fills the artist with hours of joy and reflection.
We all have daydreams like that.
The difference between an artist and a non-artist is in the generous desire to share the joyful dream.
...
Another verse of Colore posts soon.
The World Building phase is through.
I like weekly posts for the frequency. A throwback to the days before binge-able television shows. Once a week episodes for The Epic. Something to look forward to.
Fridays work.
New-New Hampshire is just about set to land on The Kindle Store. Depending on how stream-lined that process is and how quick finishing up Wonder Fell's clean-up goes decides whether Colore posts this Friday or next.
Business thoughts...
Writer, editor, publisher... just a guy who loves sharing his joyful dreams in hopes they're as much help to you as they've been to me.
Thanks for reading. Have a joyous dream, share it, call yourself an artist and have a wonderful day already.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🫎moose
Archaic Slab
AI's Not Going to Feed Itself
May your Art help feed a starving, lonely, technologically algorithmic world.
Tuesday, May 19, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
A concert hall diva robin center stages the dawn while a steady stream of interstate traffic wooshes to work.
Cool Spring morning air makes way for Summer like temperatures.
Thoughts of the usual themes of this journal and their worth. Months ago I wrote: A poet's morning journal reflections in the time of AI and algorithm's infancy is like playing Mozart in a moshpit. How to get the thrashing verbose world to hear it?
I believe despite all the gadget obsessed hype, all the entertain me now news flashes, and trips to The Moon; there's still a need for what's Beautiful in Life.
Why get in the space shuttle at all if not for the view?
There's still Earth-rise worthy views standing on our planet when you know how to look and how to use your words to interpret the sight.
There's wonder in every ray of every sunrise. We measure it with music, with art, with lyrical language.
No amount of worldly success is worth a penny to the person who cannot sit in fascination of the dawn.
What is this place? Where did you land? What in the world is this World? Why do you see it your particular way?
Did you know the way you see the color blue isn't how anyone else does?
Even the stodgiest Scientist agrees no two views of the sky are ever exactly the same.
Every hue of color is a song, we hear them with our eyes in our own unique way.
How'd we forget?
Human witness and record is responsible for everything we see and share. Each witness is unique. Because our reception of Life is solely our own we are always valuable.
The World needs your witness, your art.
AI's not going to feed itself, after all.
So Wonder Fell marches on a poet's song for the morning.
The only algorithm here is a poet's witness and report.
Glad you found me. Words like a sunrise are wasted without witness.
Thank you for your recognition.
May your Art help feed a starving, lonely, technologically algorithmic world.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎐wind_chime
Archaic Slab
Wynn's Own Large Language Model of Wordly Art
Syntax at Sunrise, For You
Monday, May 18, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
How's the day?
Readers of Wonder Fell, makers of beautiful lives and Art, how's your sunshine?
Another introduction, incase you're new here: A poet, a father, a survivor, a literal ghost ghosting you to make a point regarding the real power of language in this era of AI's infancy.
Language is a mirror of Life, and so it grows. If words were bought at a grocery store, they'd be in the organic food section.
For the pun and the way they're made.
Language is like the colors of a bird's plumage. The more beautiful, clear, and recognizable the expression the better the reception.
Sure, beautiful words and wings help every person and peacock get a date, but they also increase the quality of all correspondence.
...
Artificial Intelligence is a morphing regurgitating cloud of human expressions.
It's a select record of a point in humanity's timeline. It can only tell us what was correct, not what is right. There's still plenty of Flat-Earth Science in The World waiting for words to make it round, still plenty of Mona Lisas waiting to smile.
Large Language Models starve without visionaries and artists.
So prepare for a New World Order everyone.
Really.
Visionaries and Artists send your thanks to Science. We're soon to be the most marketable commodity.
...
Some dreams of our future in today's sunrise.
Anyone proficient in video games with the right application can make a hit pop song or film. But not everyone can play concert level piano or act Shakespeare on a stage.
Prepare for an insurgence of Live Art. Theatre, concerts, and Art galleries will boom in the coming decades.
Artists prepare for worldly respect.
As far as fiction goes, I see the world turning more towards how Wonder Fell is set up.
"How foresight-ful of you, Wynn."
-Favorite Wonder Fell Reader
"You know it."
-Favorite (and only) Wonder Fell Author
There's me. O/ There's my words.
Here's me. O/ Here's my words.
Wonder Fell: Wynn's Own Large Language Model of Wordly Art.
Syntax at Sunrise, For You.
...
Ultimately Art is all about what it means to be human. Words are one of our greatest ways (perhaps the best) to share our experience, and so grow our experience of Life.
There's touch, of course. But touch means so much more being able to mean so much more full of clear, concise, beautiful language in every point of contact.
An embrace from your lover after they read a love letter you wrote for them proves the point and power of the written word.
And the impotency of AI.
Keep creating artists, lovers of the dawn, languishers in moonlight. The World needs your reasons for an embrace.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 💛yellow_heart
Archaic Slab
The Metric is Beauty
What functions best define a successful human life?
Sunday, May 17, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Idyllic.
Calm, cool, the sunrise shows Spring.
Robins and finches announce the dawn. The new green of budding leaves sets the scene, glows golden hues under a cloudless soft blue sky.
If that loud robin were an alarm clock, you'd press its snooze button and watch the quaint light feed the new growing world in silence.
But songbirds and dreamers sing an idyllic Spring morning a different song.
Beauty filters through each Earth-bound one of us and reverberates its shining tune in unique wonderful ways, when we're brave enough to welcome it in.
Beauty is Life working right.
The flower that best fulfills the dream of its seed makes the most beautiful bloom.
A successful life is measured in beautiful moments. When we have a dream, and we work to see it made real, that seeing moment is a beautiful thing.
We know what trees and flowers, birds and bees, strive to do with their lives.
But what about people? What functions best define a successful human life?
For me, the metric is Beauty.
We hold a dream and work with the tools Life provides to make it real.
How are your dreams, dear reader?
Beautiful, I'm sure.
The World could use your Beautiful Dreams shared right now.
If posting this journal everyday helps even one person find a little more courage to see their dreams made reality, I'll consider it a win.
And, of course, a pun.
Thanks for reading.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🏠house
Archaic Slab
To Celebrate and Remind You
Why joy travels to The Moon with every astronaut is my work's focus.
Saturday, May 16, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Somewhere, sometimes, at sunrise peace falls like gentle rain to feed the flourish of Spring.
This morning the loud song of the robin, the soft sunlight through easy-going intermittent clouds prepares the day for growing.
Dawn, you, and I have been talking for years now, sharing poetic first thing in the morning thoughts under AI reality skies.
A sentence is worth more than what video games can do. There's Life alive in these syllables every morning. There's wonder in these lines.
Thanks for joining me for it.
There's something amazing and worthy of note in what living, breathing, heart still beating relationships can do that no amount of technology can ever replace.
It's my work, The Poet's, to celebrate and remind you of it.
Joy, Beauty, Wonder, and Love, what Art and Music are for; it's The Poet's work to champion these causes.
We celebrate Large Language Model video games, medical breakthroughs, trips to The Moon; but we do celebrate.
Why joy travels to The Moon with every astronaut is my work's focus.
Joy, Beauty, Wonder, and Love; we measure these things with the music called Art.
There's no reason to charter a spaceship, engage with an AI bot, get out of bed at all, without them.
Sometimes we need a reminder.
O/
Creating a safe place for all to have the opportunity to experience these four tenants is what having a home, a Country, a World is for.
As a race we've been so busy enjoying our empirical ways for centuries; we forgot we're enjoying them, forgot to factor in the joy with every equation solved.
We use language to express more than facts and figures.
The written word is also a kind of music sung with the voice great within of the author and played on the instrument of the voice great within of the reader.
Music is always best heard live; a sentence is always best read wrote by a living author.
Some living music to wonder about every morning on Wonder Fell.
Thanks for picking up your instrument, playing it, making it sing again.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🧐face_with_monocle
Archaic Slab
Refuge
More than a poet's morning journal, a refuge for an Artist.
Friday, May 15, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Glad you're back.
"Ditto."
-Favorite Reader
On with our show...
...
Been cleaning up Wonder Fell the past couple of days, making it more thematic, making the tags more indicative of the feel of each entry.
There's a lot of words here: Wall of Text meet Wall of Sunrise.
Welcome to Wonder Fell.
More than a poet's morning journal, a refuge for an Artist.
Those interested in how creative minds think and live will also find interest and, perhaps, help here.
"I'll make a safe place online for Artists of all endeavors not to feel so alone," was not my initial pursuit. But when opportunity arrives it's always best to unlock and open the door.
If you'd rather be writing, making music, painting, or in any act of Art, but you find yourself in daydreams well...
Should those whims lead to your phone or laptop screen, instead of feeding on a social media doomscroll, go on a Wonder Fell patrol.
You're not alone, Artists. You're the hope of this New World.
Our conditions are rarely ever ideal; the drama of the world wants so much.
The theater of humanity always wants another act. People require stories to sustain them. Take a breath, a time-out.
Remember every song, painting, creative work is a story shared. Get in the eye of the storm and get making.
The World as we know it cannot last with our current supply of Art.
It's vain; it's flashy; it puts spectacle before peace of mind.
We've been treating words and art like flashes on computer screens and not our greatest means of self-expression and survival for decades now.
The current state of affairs is our reaping. The Internet World is a Tower of Babel where everyone communicates with large neon billboards.
Think of Wonder Fell as a hidden room at the top of the Tower with a great view and a library's mandatory code of silence.
The Internet is a wonderful tool, but our words are more than fireworks; they're obligatory. We're monkeys that count really well without Art.
Check our current news cycle for proof of the necessity of your Art.
Then grab your compassion and generosity and get making.
Thanks for taking the time to bring your dreams to my words to bring them new life.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📜scroll
Archaic Slab
Music for the Eyes
Variety in color is as much a necessity to The Earth as variety in music.
Thursday, May 14, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Light clouds, light rain, light for breakfast, a sunrise in Spring.
Hope all's well dear readers.
On with our show...
...
A clock ticks, a dog dreams, a clock tocks, a robin sings, rooftop chimneys are a rustic red from the rain.
The color palette changes with the cloud cover and the time of day.
Have you noticed?
The whole world is a symphony of color.
The harmonic hues of Nature show Life is more than scientific. Mother Earth is an artist, too.
Just as in music certain notes produce certain effects, so too colors coincide to make chords.
It's disgustingly difficult to discuss color still in my Country without politics rearing its ugly ignorant voice.
So instead of an essay, I work on an Epic to remind us the beauty in Nature's visual song.
A dozen African Violets grow in the same pot by the window where I write these morning entries. And though each flower is violet, not a single one is the exact same shade.
Like you and I.
If every songbird, house dog, cat, or human, were all the same color; there'd be nothing worth sharing, no variety, no stories, no interactions other than duty, no way to grow.
Nothing new, so no way to grow.
Same leads to the same; variety means the hope for something better.
If every songbird and human looked the same and sang the same song, I'd stay in bed. The Sun would have no reason to rise other than more of the same.
Variety in color is as much a necessity to The Earth as variety in music.
Color is music for the eyes.
Back to The Epic.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🌼blossom
Archaic Slab
Themes to Our Dreams
Nature? Nurture? Or something else?
Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
An overcast grey horizon gives way to a thin white bedsheet sky. A full-bodied blue jay lands to rest on a porch rail while a busy swallow gathers supplies to make some additions to the nursery in their nest.
It's an exercise in identity, a remembrance of what words are actually for as AI gets comfortable in our lives.
Just a poet sitting at sunrise writing his whims to the world.
Poetry differs from prose in that a poet focuses also on the shape and sound of the work to best convey their message.
To show the scientifically minded the point, the best 'poetic form' to showcase what the written word is actually for is a personal journal in a controlled environment.
Every morning at sunrise a calm, cool, and collected established poet sits and writes, using the same materials, whatever happens to come to mind.
After nearly two years every single morning, it's time for some conclusions.
Where to look?
I went to the tags.
Certain themes arrive on certain mornings.
I've spent the past few days reviewing and cleaning them up. The focus is theme.
The tag Beauty, for instance. Anytime I mentioned the word 'beauty' I'd label the entry as such.
After this cleaning process is done only entries that specifically deal with the topic 'Beauty' will keep the tag.
The question that rises is: Why these themes? Nature? Nurture? Or something else?
What is it about this Living Large Language Model Poet that wants to write on these themes every morning?
What prompts does the sunrise feed me to cause each similar response?
Though most of us don't sit and write our off-hand thoughts at the same time everyday, I know the same experience is true for you.
We all have themes to our dreams looking for a voice. What's up with that? Nature? Nurture? Or something else?
I'll focus my hypothesis some more and set it in the journal with some conclusions.
Thanks for reading.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: *️⃣keycap_star
Archaic Slab
