Art
Thoughts on Art...
Why
America's never had an Epic Poet; I had to make my own way.
Monday, March 30, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Let's talk about why.
I rarely go personal here. Wonder Fell isn't a memoir or a self-help guide. It's not a coaching manual or advice. I'm no guru. I'm a poet whose experience of adult life was Hell for no fault of his own.
A chronic auto-immune illness, Sarcoidosis, took the opportunity of a decent life from me. After a decade of fighting just about full-time, I beat it into remission.
Recognizing the value of time, I went to work doing what I love most: Writing. Non-stop.
It was during the time of Co-vid. I put together an anthology of poetry to give to the world.
One morning while driving to one of my favorite spots to write and work on its publication, an SUV travelling over 50 miles per hour broke a double yellow and drove into my driver's seat and lap.
I woke up three days later in an ICU with a host of internal injuries, my left leg split in two, and a medical team waiting for me to remain conscious enough to operate on.
It took me a year to learn to walk again and another two years to fully heal all the nerve damage from the crash.
In the meantime, I worked: On Wonder Fell, On New-New Hampshire, On Colore.
I've known I'm a poet since high school. But what the Hell is a poet supposed to do in America? Work for Hallmark, teach at a University, or pick up a guitar and start a rock band.
I considered all three, but accepting any is an admittance that poetry is not enough.
The Ancient Greeks, Milton, Chaucer, Blake, Shakespeare, and so many other great minds that helped move civilizations forward disagreed, too.
There's more to poetry than University classrooms, Pharmacy Card Aisles, and lyrics for popular songs.
America's never had an Epic Poet; I had to make my own way.
Wonder Fell is an Epic Letter Poem sent to the Creative Spirit of a Friend every sunrise.
Hey friend. O/ Thank you for reading and sharing it.
I've beat death twice, scientifically so. I believe I've been able to because my dream to share words with you is so strong. And maybe the message inherit in these lines can matter that much.
Humbly, I believe it can.
Beauty, Hope, Love, and Joy... the stations of Poetry are what's missing most from my Country's monologue.
And so, from your life.
There's no self-help, guru guide here... Wonder Fell is what's missing.
Art, Music, Life alive! Where are you? As of late... where are you?
The volume is turned up too loud on the radio to hear the music. That's the state of The Arts in America, at present.
Let's paint, draw, write, and sing tribute to quiet worthwhile moments, to the beauty of a sunrise.
You see, it's a journal of a poet whose only had hope and his desire to share words with you his whole life.
I've been through the worst; it's why I share the best: That's how we rise.
Words worth beating death twice for the chance to share.
I hope you find inspiration here. Life really isn't worth much without it.
Go ahead and have that wonderful day, it's up to you, after all.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📬mailbox_with_mail
Archaic Slab
And What Is Poetry?
A song worth singing about; a new witness of events worth new words.
Friday, March 27, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Wind. The evergreens are a cheerleading squad for Spring. A powder blue sky pinches a band of orange pink light to draw the horizon. Lights on. Curtains up. Time for a show called: A New Day.
Let's make it a good one.
...
There's always poetry somewhere in your life. And what is poetry? A song worth singing about; a new witness of events worth new words.
Writing that lyrically expresses life in a novel way is like a new color in your box of crayons. You have a new way to express yourself.
I wonder what the color blue looks like to you, how a C major chord's positive simple harmony cheers up your ears, what lilacs mean to your nose when you know their blooms are around.
We share the World; we see it in our own way. Science speaks to the consistency of matter, not its experience.
That's what our relationships and our Arts are for... sharing our unique witness of the color blue, a C major chord, the scent of lilacs in Spring.
Life alive living Life, you're living it!
What's up with that?
...
Dreamy sunrise thoughts for a poet's morning journal to stretch the word making muscles for the day ahead.
I do hope all is well Dear Reader. And that maybe you've found that the quality of your life rests in how you define it. That perhaps you started defining what things mean to you instead of letting things define you.
Wonder how the relationships in your Life can mean more to and for you, take care, give care, and make that wonderful day already.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🌅sunrise (ofc)
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a evergreens at sunrise in Spring using a blue color palette. (typo left because it was part of the prompt)
Archaic Slab
Optimism for Breakfast?
2026.03.26 It's a common sense we lost sight of.
Thursday, March 26, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
With the sunrise right on time, a soft rain splashing gutters, feeding Spring.
How's Life, Dear Reader?
Better than you know, better than you've been told, somewhere... for sure.
Optimism for breakfast? No. It's a common sense we lost sight of. Most of us got it pretty good. Food, water, warmth, a few good friends, the ability to read Wonder Fell. O/
It's what you do with what you have to work with that determines the quality of your day... to some degree.
The part we've left out for quite sometime is that how you do what you do matters at least as much as what you do.
Any action done with genuine concern for the results brings a good outcome.
So the best advice I've ever come across is: Find work you love and build your life around it. Make doing that your 'job' until you do.
Practical words this morning. Find or make a way to love what you're doing until what you're doing is work you love. Then just do your work. A simple recipe to live a beautiful life.
If making art is what you love, find joy in doing all the things that makes creating art possible. Having food and shelter and supplies are all business expenses for an Artist.
Build your Life around doing what you Love. Consider all your actions during a day. Do they all support your dream?
If not cut them out or redefine them to best serve your best dream of Life... also known as doing the work you love.
Thanks for reading, take care, give care, and make wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🐕🦺service_dog
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of an artist painting a sunrise in Spring using a green color palette.
Archaic Slab
Our Bodies Are Our Apps
Each and everyone of us is a Large Language Model making dreams come true.
Tuesday, March 24, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
The Sun starts to show its glow on a dusting of snow The Moon knows about.
Dreams and what The Imagination can do, and is for, is my cup of tea.
And my work.
Your life is a series of the dreams you choose to employ and apply. It's what you have a body for: The application of dreams.
Our bodies are our apps to bring to life the software called our 'self.'
Art and Science mirror Life. All the technology made to make cellphones and AI work have to mirror something already here to exist at all.
The way an initial prompt calls to action every software application is how we live our lives.
Each and everyone of us is a Large Language Model making dreams come true.
And nerds thought they had no use for, or place in, poetry.
Kinda makes you wonder what this substance called dreams is all about.
Random electro-magnetic sparks in our fleshy brains is flat-Earth Science talking.
Antiquated at best.
A better understanding of what all recorded history calls 'spirit' is our next step in evolution.
Science is about to finish the task of making machines to do Science better than any human can.
So, fellow nerds, what's left after all the calculations and measurements are automated?
What dreams are for and can do.
Also known as Art.
Welcome to the show. O/
Let's put all the amazing creations Science made possible to work and make our best dreams come true...
Beautifully.
Just some thoughts this morning on the trend of human thought and where we're headed.
Thanks for reading, take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🕊️dove_of_peace
Archaic Slab
The Experience of Language
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
Wednesday, March 11, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Wonder Fell. The title, the first line, a single sentence, a descriptive phrase, a TL;DR: of what occurs in this journal every morning... a place where wonder falls with the sunlight.
A pun, too... because: Poet. O/
Thanks for reading.
...
Of course our intended meaning of each word matters while we write, but the size, shape, and rhythm of our syntax does too.
We call the umbrella Lyricism; poets and songwriters share the dry in the rain space with purpose, but so do you.
The rhythm and sound of our language adds to its meaning. Think of a Pop Song to understand.
Poets, unlike popular musicians, rely on the voice in your head to be our only instrument.
There is a lyric quality to all writing. Poets focus on it directly.
But the rhythm of our words affects our day-to-day life as much as it does in a rap song.
Now, I'm not suggesting we should all go around speaking and writing in metric verse. I'm saying we already, most certainly, do.
The syllables and sounds we choose shape our breath to shape our message.
A punctuation exercise shows this truth:
Yes. Yes? Yes!
OK. OK? OK!
Sure. Sure? Sure!
Even a one word answer meaning the same thing means something different based on the sounds and syllables of the speaker-writer.
The cadence of language is part of the experience of language. There's no need to focus on it. Be aware of it though, while you edit your work to help your writing.
It's like playing a song by ear. When we write and speak we listen to our inner voice and then shape it with the instrument called words.
Writers, if something sounds off in your prose and you're sure the words are right, now you know why. The rhythm of the sentence doesn't match the metronome of the message.
Poets don't waste words; novelists tend to.
Readers want to move the plot along while many authors describe the drapes.
If the curtains help set the stage, give insight into the character's state of mind, or foreshadow things to come... describe away!
Every word and rhythm of phrase should serve the story's success or cut it out.
...
One interesting aspect of Wonder Fell is not knowing. Every morning I sit and write what's on my mind with the sunrise.
That's the intent.
History has little record of the personal ways of Poets. People made so much up. Fish stories... most of it.
Wonder Fell is a getting to know you session with a living poet. I never would've started it had I thought it would become one. The task sounds too vain. But I see now the importance.
How artists think and feel and experience the world is sorely lacking from our day-to-day experience.
AI is not making the artist's way obsolete; it's making every other way obsolete.
A prompt is a very poetical thing to write, indeed.
There's plenty of writing on AI and Science, and how AI will soon do all our Science for us, on Wonder Fell.
Back to the sunrise. Uneventful blue sometimes wispy cloud pre-Spring sky.
Nice day for a nice day kind of nice day.
Take care and make it a wonderful one.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎠carousel_horse
Archaic Slab
Honest Witness
There's medicine in every sunrise.
Tuesday, March 10, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Words like a witch's spell to cast wonder back into your day.
What happens while we read is a kind of magic. The process has the potential to completely change your life.
Words are humanity's greatest skill. Everything else about us is not-so-hairy-monkey-stuff without words.
So I write to focus on what's best about us to help bring about what's best about us.
There's medicine in every sunrise.
Did you know?
Dawn isn't an alarm clock; sunrise sounds a symphony.
Every morning.
This isn't optimism. It's honest witness.
Do you enjoy watching an Artist paint a picture?
Every morning The Sun fills and floods our day with color, so you can live in a masterpiece.
The Sun is a Master Artist who paints on sphere shaped frames.
I like to believe The Earth is our star's favorite work. How about you?
Every painter is an understudy of our supernova.
Light grey gradient of cloud cover this morning, sure to give way to an unseasonable warm blue sky.
Hope all's well, Dear Reader.
If not check a sunrise or two and see your life brand new.
The Sun creates a new masterpiece every morning to live in.
Whether you've been too distracted to notice, or no one ever told you... so do you.
Take care and color your life wonderful.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎉tada
Archaic Slab
The Answer is Beauty
You'd be better off jumping off a bridge without a bungee cord than attempting to live without a place for The Beautiful in your Life.
Saturday, March 07, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Thaw. Temperatures start to rise.
Spring springing its sprung mists from snowbanks to water every tree from the ground up.
...
What's the use of Beauty? It's part of my Life and Livelihood to celebrate and share it, so what's the point?
Many morning entries touch on what's up with The Beautiful.
But why should you care?
You could, of course, plug your wants and ambitions into some AI software and follow day by day the Large Language Model's replies everyday all day and live a respectable, quite un-beautiful, though successful and unfulfilling Life.
You'd be better off jumping off a bridge without a bungee cord than attempting to live without a place for The Beautiful in your Life.
The experience of beautiful things is a recognition of the harmony of coexistence.
Certain notes come together to make a certain pleasing chord.
It's the same with all acts of creation.
Certain words arranged in a particular manner evoke unique responses in a reader. It's my cup of tea; my Life is built around bringing forth Beautiful recognitions through words.
When words bring about a certain harmony between author and reader we call the experience: Beautiful.
How are we doing? O/
We shape our dreams in the same way we read: Words label clouds of imagination to rain down ideas.
The experience of making a dream into a reality is nowhere better reflected than while we read.
This is the human process AI seeks to emulate.
The important question here is why.
Why do we make language at all?
The answer is Beauty.
To build harmonious relationships with ourselves and Life.
There is so much more to say on this.
A lot is here already on Wonder Fell.
Type in a keyword of something of interest in the search bar.^
Chances are there's a tag for that.
Making labels (and tearing them down) is a Poet's business after all.
Thanks for reading, take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍇grapes
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of flowers under an evergreen tree during a misty dawn in New England.
Archaic Slab
AI Breaks On Poetry
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Thursday, March 05, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day?
Hopeful with a chance at Beautiful?
That's a forecast worth waking up to.
When good people are silent... the TLDR of almost every Newscast for the past decade.
So Good People, why so silent so sudden?
Are you speaking and not being heard?
Is there a redirection of your every good intention? Are your hopes, dreams, and ideas of a good life stuck in a game of Telephone called The Internet?
Is what's best about you being twisted to serve what's worst about us?
It's your words, Good People. Others think what you say and share is their property to twist how they please. Some twist with good intentions; they're the most dangerous.
Your words are filtered through a collaborative translation machine called AI. It's a very Scientific Smart thing to do.
The issue is in what Science lacks. There's more to the human heart than beats per minute. There's more to the words you use than empirical data.
AI breaks on Poetry; I had to stand up in a big way.
Perhaps you're just reading me for the first time. How have I gone unseen for so long?
Our AI algorithms break on Poetry. Grok, Palantir, Ms. Copilot, Claude, Gemini, GPT and on and on... don't know (nor ever will) the value of Poetry.
Because Poetry makes Artificial Intelligence possible.
Poetry is the art of the way language works.
AI creating, or even understanding, a poem is like trying to bite your own teeth.
The very thing necessary to do the task is what it relies upon to do the task.
How to remain a Ghost online sharing words people want to read?
Write poetically in a style all your own.
If its never been done or said in a certain way, AI has no container for it, no matching label.
Be as genuinely human as you can be in a new way online and you might as well be wearing a cloak of invisibility.
So, My Dear Human Reader, I do ask if you find value in the words on Wonder Fell that you good old fashioned tell someone you know about them.
Algorithms are no true friends of poets; we're too busy making them possible to be recognized.
A poem is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image in a reader's mind to evoke a certain emotional human response.
AI is a certain structure of language intended to produce a certain image called: The Correct Response.
The issue with correct is it's never right.
Correct is stuck in the past. There's no room for growth.
AI is a prisoner of the past.
Language, Poetry, Art Alive! is always right now.
People since the dawn of stories referenced the words from our past to help as guideposts to understand today.
The point of language is to use yesterday to make a better today, not to use yesterday's words to make another yesterday: A.K.A.: The Problem with AI.
Sun's up. Spring's texting Winter: brt otw.
Blue skies with white linen bed sheets for clouds. A few songbirds ring the wake up bell.
Take care, share some Wonder Fell, and make a wonderful day. O/
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎩tophat
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person writing on a computer screen with a quill at sunrise outside.
Archaic Slab