Beauty
A Poet's thoughts on Capital B, Beauty. (also known as 'My Job.')
I'm Bringing Beauty Back
... removing it from the cosmetic aisles of pharmacies and placing it back in divine hands where it belongs.
Friday, April 10, 2026
Good morning, Twfw. O/
Words from the dark as the light comes back.
The quantity of the number of headlights on the highway might as well be a time and date calendar.
Sunrise still about an hour away. I wonder what arrangements of color it will bring. Always new. Always majestic. Always beautiful. The Sunrise.
I'm bringing Beauty back... removing it from the cosmetic aisles of pharmacies and placing it back in divine hands where it belongs.
A reimagined and resurrected understanding of the concept of Beauty is the cure for all our concerns regarding AI.
Many morning entries turn to words on Beauty. A poet's cup of tea, a poet's business.
So much poetry these days focuses on adjusting one's cultural heritage and gender to fit a changing world narrative to help change the narrative.
I applaud a poetry of politics, but it forgets itself.
Politics falls under the umbrella of Poetry; it's a genre.
Poets, we don't give ourselves enough credit. Words make cultures, and governments, and all of Science itself possible. And here we are the champions of language quietly, humbly, reclusively, taking very little pride in our craft and power.
Words shape our human world. Poets are masters of the craft. Where are we? Why so silent?
In this Nation built on words, where are the best of us at making and understanding what words mean and are for?
There's so much to say on this topic left unsaid for too long. More than what morning reflections in a journal can do justice for.
It's a central theme to Colore.
I go back to building it now.
As always, thanks for reading.
The sky's an ideal blue for a picture perfect day; the clouds are only there to dream about what shapes they're making.
Take care and have that wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 📈 chart_with_upwards_trend
Archaic Slab
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
For Your Witness
2026.03.15 The World is a great orchestrated dance for your witness.
Sunday, March 15, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Pink lavender covers a band of evergreens to contour line the horizon in the northwestern sky.
We wake; we rise. Our days and lives are bookended in sleep.
Poetic, philosophic, just a poet's journal to announce the sunrise and share words with you that perhaps you forgot or were never told.
"Go. Go. Go! Do. Do. Do! Achieve!"
- So shouts so often The Modern World.
But where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you achieving for?
Who are you? What are your dreams for?
At some point, and I hope it's early on in life, you pause and consider what life is worth to you.
Unfortunately, so lately, for so many of us that moment occurs late in your life or after some tragedy.
I consider it with every sunrise here.
Maybe you'll join me everyday. The world could use more considerate people.
In fact, the world won't survive unless it gets some more considerate people.
Your life isn't worth anything more than survival and distraction if you never stop and consider its value once and awhile.
There's more to life than fireworks and faster.
There's Beauty in the world when you're brave enough to notice it... to be it.
If all you see when you see a tree is a heap of molecules, you're missing and forgetting the choreography of those molecules.
Those atoms shake! Those quarks quake! What makes quantum anything dance is my business. Noticing it is your way to a fuller, richer, more Beautiful life.
The World is a great orchestrated dance for your witness.
Recognize it, take care, and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🛎️bellhop_bell
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
My Business
Joy forever, what sets you free, and what conquers all. Otherwise known as: My business.
Friday, February 20, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Beauty, Truth, and Love.
Joy forever, what sets you free, and what conquers all.
Otherwise known as: My business.
The work and responsibilities of The Poet.
Keats wrapped (rapped, too) Beauty and Truth into the same definition.
Beauty, though, is the measure of a successful expression of Truth.
Truth is the way of The World.
Every seed has a best bloom within, every person a best life.
The closer we are in accordance to living our best life, blooming our best bloom, the greater our level of Beauty.
There's a dream within all living things that wants expression. It's called Life. And like an Artist, the better that dream is shaped and shown the more Beautiful the work appears.
The more clearly expressed the dream; the more beautiful the work of Art.
The clearer our expression of The Dream of Life; the more Beautiful our Life is.
The World, too, expresses The Dream of Life. Science measures Earth's consistent attempts with numbers and figures, only repeatable because The World keeps working in a certain way.
You lift your phone and touch the screen to view it in a certain way that works for you, but there are many other ways to accomplish the same thing.
The same with choices The Earth makes. She does the ways She knows work best.
We could learn a lot from The Earth... how to better our lives. She's been at this Life thing a long time.
Science is Faith in Earth's consistency.
Good old, older than old itself, Mother Earth.
Ways of thinking that show up more in Colore further down the story's road.
Thanks for reading and wondering. Take care and make a wonderful day.
~ Wynn ~
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🍩doughnut
Archaic Slab
Reliable Beauty
2026.02.09 If you think of The Cosmetics Aisle at your local store, I apologize for American Poetry's neglect of Beauty.
Monday, February 09, 2026
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
Something Beautiful, something worthwhile.
Where is it?
Reliable Beauty, what every sunrise brings. Interesting poets stayed away and slept in for so long.
There's a lot of talk on Wonderfell of Beauty (the Capital B variety). It's the business I'm in; it's my work.
Poetry is the Capital B Beauty Business.
How's your relationship to what's Beautiful?
If you think of The Cosmetics Aisle at your local store, I apologize for American Poetry's neglect of Beauty.
Cosmetics are Fashion and Fashion is expression: Beauty Exists.
The things we make... a house is rarely Beautiful, a cathedral so often is.
There's a sense of wonder in every sunrise and stone set in every cathedral.
Poetry isn't Religion only evidence Faith's a good idea.
Every sunrise is a Beautiful promise kept from somewhere.
Thoughts on Beauty, Faith, and Love as the Sun shows.
It's work long neglected by people. Dismissal of what's Beautiful about Life leads to the state of affairs in America at present.
What a poet's work represents isn't for a card aisle in a Pharmacy; it's medicine itself.
Every reason to wake up and live is my work's focus.
For the chance to experience something Beautiful... is the best reason to wake up.
I take the guesswork out and make sure I see the Sunrise everyday.
I meet it doing what I love: Sharing words with you.
Thanks for reading, take care, and make a wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎐wind_chime
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink image of a person standing outside of a Pharmacy watching the Sunrise.
In Defense of Beauty
What happens within us when we recognize something as Beautiful?
Wednesday, January 21, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Too early for most to call morning; it's still yesterday in California.
Night owls and early birds know a reliable peace so many forgot.
To remember the World's a beautiful place, we must remember the World.
Dawn is a good place to start.
Getting good with the morning is always a great place to begin. (See the first line of these journal posts for proof.)
What happens when we recognize something as Beautiful?
The sunrise is always in some way Beautiful. Regardless how you feel about poetry, you see it every sunrise.
The Sun arrives in a poem waiting for witness every morning.
Let's title today's post: In Defense of Beauty, remember I'm a poet, and get to work.
First let's clear up cosmetics and toss make-up and what we wear out.
Those are discussed in another post. I'll link them here and here. And there's a whole lot of talk about Beauty here.
What happens within us when we recognize something as Beautiful?
What do we acknowledge?
The experience is more than just what's pleasing to the eye, to any of the senses. But there is a a kind of joy, a 'rightness' felt when we're in the presence of something Beautiful.
There are reasons why flowers are often seen as Beautiful. They're an easy example of the ways of Beauty.
A seed that fulfills its greatest expression of itself shows the most Beautiful bloom.
Their choices are few but constant. What they do with the quality and quantity of light and water given them determines every flowers level of Beautiful.
People work in the same way.
We do our best with the quality and quantity of the materials presented to us everyday.
Unlike plants we can choose where and how often we get our metaphorical rain and sunshine.
Our choices determine our lives. Beauty is the result of our witness of some epic choices.
The tallest, healthiest, scientifically soundest dandelion in a field of flowers is gorgeous to behold. A dandelion all alone rising from the cracks in an asphalt jungle is a thing of Beauty.
And a very resourceful seed indeed.
That asphalt dandelion has a hero's quest for a life story easily recognized.
Someone who spends hours fussing and fixing their hair and fashion is also acting heroically.
Vanity doesn't make us Beautiful.
Self-care does.
We care about ourselves because life matters and because it does we're going to have the best one we can. We're going to show our best to the World.
That's hero's talk.^
That's an asphalt dandelion sprouting from cracks in concrete all alone early in the Spring.
Take care, find your best light, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🛎️bellhop_bell
Archaic Slab
Developing a Practice
2025.12.30
Tuesday, December 30, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
We write. We draw. We sing and strum. We create!
O/
Thank you Artists of all kinds for showing the world it's Beautiful.
Keep going.
More than hobby or craft, it's generosity.
Those quiet moments we spend alone in daydreams, when the busy world does its busy, yearn to be shared.
We sit quiet, observe our minds, feel with our imagination the world... we feast on dreams.
"Where do you come up with your ideas?"
-Friends Who Don't Consider Themselves Creative But Are Always Quite Busy
We stare at walls, we do the dishes, we gather dreams.
Alone time... introspection is all part of the process of Art.
The best dreams come in quiet safe places,
Alone, or with friendly trustworthy faces.
Our dreams are beautiful; that's why they're worth sharing.
But it is easy to be lulled into a lullaby of idleness by them.
This is why it's important to have a practice set up: to develop the habit of making.
That means allotting time to wander, to daydream, to be idle.
Remember gathering is part of the process, too.
Everyday doings: laundry, washing dishes, showering; are great times to gather dreams.
Your body is comfortable with the tasks.
Unless you jog everyday, a walk is always better than a run for gathering dreams.
Your body knows what's required.
So there's no deliberation required.
This is another, perhaps the most important, reason for developing a practice. Your body gets comfortable with the process of writing, of drawing, of singing and strumming. And because it's comfortable dreams come easy to fill the craft.
Just show up around the same time everyday and make something. After sometime the dreams will come.
When we try, when we force, the trying and the forcing go into the work and are shared with the audience.
It's disingenuous somehow. Like you don't believe it's good. That disbelief, then, goes into your creation.
Cut it out.
Show up.
Remember you love making and make!
Write a simple sentence. Draw a stick figure. Sing a scale. Get into the rhythm of making.
Writers often talk about the different ways of making a story. There's two camps: Plotters and Pantsers.
Plotters make a map and follow it. Pantsers sit and write by the seat of their pants.
These are actually the same process; it's only a matter of trust and timing.
Stories all work in a certain way. There are plenty of books and courses to show how.
The writer makes a character and then takes them through the certain ways of a story.
The metaphors and details are all that's new.
We can make those before we start writing (plotter), or while we write (pantser).
For me, I make a mental note (sometimes written) of "this happens then this happens then this happens...end scene," just a short list before I write each scene. A quick plot to get my pants comfortable.
Why get into the car if you don't know where you're going?
This works for all forms of writing and Art. Know where your Art is going and know the trip to be worth the ride. Your enjoyment of your creation is infectious.
Do you recall driving backroads when the sky through the trees turned a beautiful shade of you-didn't-know-skies-came-in-that-color?
Bring back that feeling while you write if you want your writing beautiful.
Just be in the feeling of what you want to share, then be sincere.
Enthusiasm is always a great feeling to have while creating; it gets viewers excited to see your work, and to be alive.
Sun's up. Clear, cool day in December.
Thanks for reading, work some today, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🕵️sleuth_or_spy
Same Prompt🤔: Create a poorly drawn stick figure drawing of a guy and his dog sitting looking at a laptop computer.
