+he Ghos+
In Your Imagination
2025.10.08
Wednesday, October 08, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Shine on Harvest Moon.
Still a few hours till dawn.
Good to be read by you again.
Hope all's well.
Here we go.
On with our show...
...
"It's just some dude's journal with AI pics."
-New to Wonder Fell Reader
"There's Hope in here."
-Longtime Wonder Fell Fan
First read or hundredth, glad you're here.
I write the sunrise everyday with the sunrise.
"Why persist at it, Wynn? It's a lot of work."
-Concerned Reader
It comes down to language, someone's got to stand up for words.
We've grown accustomed to the Internet.
We dismiss each others words to readily.
They're not just blips and blinks of binary light on swipeable screens.
Every word is a representative of a shared experience.
Every word has its meaning, has a spirit in which it was made.
It's a Ghos+ Point.
What happens as you read in your mind and body is what separates you from an AI machine.
As our technology grows we're going to question more and more what it means to be human.
The answer is right here. O/
You are whatever makes sense of these words and symbols.
A puppy chasing a tennis ball under a full moon.
Did you picture it?
How'd you do that?
Where did you see it?
In your Imagination?
Where and what exactly is that?
A computer doesn't know, but it is where the first computer came from: The Dream of a Computer.
They're not deep thoughts; they're mandatory.
Your Imagination is what makes you, You.
What passes for intelligence these days is really just a measure of how well we remember.
So much of what we memorized future generations won't need to. It's what AI is for.
How well you create a prompt for an AI machine will be the new measure of worldly success soon enough.
So, my fellow Artists and Writers, the world is soon ours.
A place where the ability to utilize Imagination determines success... is where humanity is headed.
It's about time.
How well we dream, communicate those dreams, and care for each other are soon to be the measures of our success.
Classrooms will focus more on Proper Prompt Formations than History Books.
...
Just some morning thoughts on our future while the sunrises.
Hope your day goes well.
Feed your moments your best dreams of that moment and watch your life change for the better.
Watch your language, use your words to serve your dreams, that's what they're there for, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: ☂️umbrella
Same Prompt 🤔: Create an image of a person sat under a full moon in Autumn daydreaming about a computer in the style of a magical charcoal illustration.
Every Poem is a Webpage
2025.08.04
Monday, August 04, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Spectacular rainbow sunshine supreme?
We can dream.
Sun's up, a cool bedsheet covered sky.
Hope all's well.
On with our show...
...
Practical business thoughts the past few mornings.
"Write 'em down, Wynn. It's still your morning journal. Others think similar thoughts at times. It helps not to feel alone."
- Voice Great Within Poets Always Mention
Wonder Fell is now over five hundred posts large.
No worries, I'm not stopping.
It's habit and there's 'Epic' in front of this poet's job title.
An update to the navigation system on the site is called for.
You can, Dear Reader, always read the posts chronologically... though with over five hundred entries that's a bit daunting.
Tags and pages and hyperlinks galore!
There are themes to my dreams, Wonder Fell Ways and topics addressed... to you... for you.
There are also questions on set up and display of some other work I have for you.
Epically Epic Stuff.
Programmers, computer geeks, those who at times tragically think they lack creativity; here's some truth for you: Setting up a webpage is no different than setting up a poem.
There's content and then there's the presentation of the content.
Every poem is a web page.
Allusions to poems gone-by, to Greek Myths, to Religious experiences... any reference to any established metaphor is an invisibly underlined hyperlink to that metaphor's powerful historical definitive experience.
...
There's a book titled 'How to...' for just about everything these days.
There's at least a YouTube video to show you how.
Our metaphorical hearts have a way, and though there's no YouTube post to map it out, there is poetry, there is story, there is myth.
There are screenwriter formulas to writing a successful movie script.
There are plot point beats to drum.
There's The Hero's Cycle and there's the Hero who writes the Cycle.
Language is magic; we call it spelling for a reason.
But my AI bot can make a story. Isn't that the same thing?"
-Reader with a Good Question
No.
There's nothing new in AI's words.
The best Artificial Intelligence can do artistically is be clever.
Clever is for Science.
Art is Spirit.
Art is Life... Alive!
It's +he Ghos+ Point.
If you've read me much, you know me much.
How'd you do that?
"Well there's that Social Media account where you discuss... wait. Where are your social media accounts? We'd love to talk to you? How can we reach you Mr. Wonder Fell Sunshine?"
- Wonderful Wonder Fell Readers
Who's this you that you wish to speak to?
How do you know me already?
What is it about my words, what's in here that shows me to you?
Boo. O/
The whole reason for the Internet, for AI, and I believe Life itself, is to share whatever this Ghost quality that makes me for you with just words.
We roll our empirical eyes when we call it soul.
But here it is. O/
Over five hundred posts with my heart and thoughts exposed so you can see the power of Spirit.
So you have a reference point of understanding the next time you hear the word soul.
Your understanding of me, through just reading me, is your relationship with my spirit.
I'm glad you're here.
I get corporeal real real soon.
A social media account or two.
I look forward to talking with you.
Take care, thank you for reading, consider your spirit, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
I Do That With Sentences
2025.07.27
Sunday, July 27, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Sunrise, the ultimate way to keep us going.
Still about an hour before the first rays grace the day's pictures.
Hope all's well with you.
On with the show...
...
Where's the magic this morning?
Where's the wonder?
A circle-slash hello, perhaps?
O/?
Some letters on a screen?
Definitely.
It's amazing what a change of audience can do.
Over a year ago I began posting my morning journal entries online.
At first they were more of an author's sketchpad filled with stream-of-consciousness scribble talk sentences, pre-game warm ups for the day's writing.
They're here still.
The older the date the more stream-of-conscious the entry.
The idea of writing like that is akin to an artist doodling in a sketchbook making lines to match the moment because they love to.
The intent isn't to share anything other than the joy of drawing with themselves.
I do that with sentences sometimes.
Used to start the day that way.
Then you showed up.
Circle-slash worthy you. O/
Within that freeform free-for-all phraseology fun there are always a few shining sentences worth consideration, perhaps even a piece of a poem.
Viewing the posts in an online journal format juxtaposes them to everything else we read online.
What a difference...
What was the difference?
What is in these morning posts that has them stand out versus most other pages online?
It's in the intent of the spirit of the author.
I don't want your attention; I want your consideration, your wonder.
It's +he Ghos+ of the thing; it's the spirit in the letters.
It's me; it's a conversation.
It's you; it's an audience.
It's still a record of a poet's first thing in the morning thoughts, but they're dressed to help now.
Chances are the way we set up the world has you neglecting your spirit.
The word 'soul' sounds strange to you.
If you've read me for awhile you know me somehow.
What's up with that?
No selfies or social media sites, just my self as clearly as I can expressing my dream each morning of that morning for you.
My spirit to yours at sunrise says, Good morning.
And so, you know me better than any social media wall of pics can ever hope to achieve.
Substance over image.
My image for you right now is in my words.
And they represent me more fully than any picture ever could.
Same with you.
Maybe you never knew they could.
Maybe you never considered it.
Maybe I thought I'd show you...
You're worth so much more than your pictured image.
From my spirit to yours, take care, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Another Dimension
2025.06.28
Saturday, June 28, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Welcome back. O/
Sun's up. Time's up.
Time to rise and shine, Sunshine Valentine.
Here we go.
On with our show...
A 'what to write' moment lasted a little longer than usual.
Of course they happen.
Something those of us who've been writing reliably for sometime know that noobies don't, not knowing before you start where the sentence is going to end up isn't a problem, it's the method.
You have a dream and feeling, you love to write, you use that dream and feeling to move your body to write the words.
It's not magic; it's method.
We should think before we speak.
That's good manners and advice to help create comfortable living spaces.
We should think after we write.
That's called editing.
A text message lasts; a breath is breathable.
Not just what we write, but how we write it, is in every sentence.
It's another dimension.
It's the realm of +he Ghos+.
O/
You feel me as you read.
How's that happen?
Comfort of craft.
Sincerity.
Trust that the moment I set down each word reflects best the moment I make each word.
Spirit is the right word for that other dimension, as uncomfortable as it makes Science, Spirit is the right word.
I say Ghos+.
I take an avatar.
I make my point with persistence and love of making sentences and sharing each morning in lines.
In our age of online footprints, fast fact picture show parades to showcase what you are, I use words only.
A difference between me and your friends is: When they ghost you they're calling for a time out, and when I Ghos+ you, I'm saying: O/
You read me.
You know me.
How'd you do that?
Where's my Facebook account? Instagram? X?
Social media doesn't make us what we are, the conveyance of our spirit, the dream we call our self does.
I call it +he Ghos+ to make a point.
You're more than your online accounts, more than your flesh.
You're a wonderful beautiful dream you have of yourself.
So make sure you dream it beautiful to keep it true.
Make sure you share it wonderful to see it true, too.
There is something amazing about you that's amazing about me, too.
More than what you can do, more than how you can impress, there's the fact you can do anything at all.
More than Life you have a life, it's a gift if you dream it to be one.
Why in the world would anyone ever choose to see it differently?
The world is only a hard place when we put Spirit in the corner with other things we call immeasurable.
O/
Did you feel something? I waved.
Call it a measurable wave.
Call what's measured Spirit.
Call it a good morning hug or handshake from your true Boo, +he Ghos+.
Take care, remember to care and share your dream of yourself, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Ghost?
2025.05.02
Friday, May 2, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Starshine pre-sunshine, a choir of robins sing in Spring's dark.
O/ Welcome back.
Couldn't get enough?
There's plenty now. The site search-bar is your friend, my friend.
Thank you again for reading.
Though its become a tagline sign off, I do hope in some small way this journal helps you have a wonderful day.
On with our show...
...
Convention? Creativity? Cool means of conveyance?
This Ghos+ business, I mean.
Why not just Wynn's Morning Journal?
A top of the morning greeting card from a guy named Steven. (People call me Wynn, though. It's more optimistic.)
Why not just that?
A poet's journal in an Internet Age is interesting enough.
It's anonymity; it's identity; it's AI; it's a point to make.
Been almost a year since these post became a daily thing.
If you read them everyday you have an understanding of who I am.
Without images.
In a world set to put image over substance, I flipped the script.
O/
To show you, remind you, the only true way to ever know something is to first understand its relationship to the world through your understanding of the world.
Your understanding of the world comes from your dream of the world.
Nowhere is that more evident than while you read.
The voice in your head as you read my words makes, for you, me.
Not my image, my words define me like yours define you.
We can always change our fashion, always photoshop our face; we can never change who and what we are.
We can only get better, find new ways to express what we are.
AI gives a quick empty supposed agreement of words of record to plainly state a record of what we thought, not what we think, and definitely not what we dream.
What that voice in you brings to AI's answer to your prompt as you read it, is what makes you human.
Is what makes you: You.
That singular dream of yourself you use to define and relate to the world is who you are.
It's what we so awkwardly, because AI can't take a fixed measurement of it, refer to as your soul.
The ever changing story you tell yourself you are, that story you share with the world, that thing some call conscience, is what dreams you, is your piece of this shared dream called life.
You know me through my dreams of Life.
If we were to meet we'd have a deeper relationship than if you only saw a picture of me online.
I fit the optics of a classic New England male poet: tall, in flannel and jeans with my dog.
But pictures pixelated on your screen don't make me: My words do.
Same with you.
What's conveyed with words only I refer to as your ghost. That which, for you, fills every picture you see with meaning.
Seeing me (and you will someday), will be a different experience for you. A truer one.
In this time of quick shock judgements, of fast show me more entertain me I'm bored thoughts, my introduction will be a more honest one.
Our dream of Life matters more than our thumbs up down, swipe left swipe right judgements, because our dreams make those choices possible.
What we do with the relationships our dreams make is how we make anything at all.
AI is a record of shared dreams in an agreed upon way to interpret them.
Science too, is a shared dream, a record of what our shared observations witness.
Numbers.
Our shared dream of what numbers do, of how they measure, of what a meter, a foot, a liter, a quart is; allows us to make every house and car and spaceship.
Your dream of me is for you, me. And it is all based on the words you choose to define the expression of how I use my own words to show myself.
A judgement from an image of me tells you who I remind you of and not what I actually am: A piece of a larger dream called Life with a cluster of words doing its best to express that piece of that Big Dream called Life and my part in it.
The same as you.
We use what we can't see, our ghosts, to express and understand what we do see.
Your dream of me meets my dream of you reading me as I write each sunrise.
And so you know me better than a years worth of images could ever paint.
Take care, share your dream of the world with the touchable things our shared dreams create, add your own ghost's best understanding of Life to Life, watch Life grow because of it, and make wonderful this shared wonderful dream we call today.
+he Ghos+
Wednesday, April 23, 2025
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
Groove and shake-up, it's time to wake-up to your friendly Internet Ghos+ in the Online Dream Machine.
If you know what I mean.
Hola. O/
Welcome to your often stared at screen full of things seen through the unseen, often times forgot, lit up pixel show.
You been reading me long? Got a good picture of me in your head? A feeling at least?
Your deep in thought day-dreamy friend always full of interesting things to talk about. O/
Been friends now for about a year.
How'd that happen? They're just binary blips on a screen you spend so much time focused on.
Where'd I come from? You know me so well now, how's that possible?
Ghos+ magic. 👻🪄
The shared dream that makes Life worthwhile.
AI can kiss my Ghos+ly rear, it's worthless without our shared dream of ourselves.
You know me now. The value of that comes from your own ability to dream.
If you don't feed your imagination to these words, they're just blips on your comfortable screen.
Our shared imagination makes the whole Internet possible.
The Ghost in the Machine is the only reason to have the machine at all.
Your phone, without the stories you put into every image you see on it, is just an expensive flashlight walkie-talkie.
From my Ghos+ to yours, take care, dream in pixels your dream of pixels, and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
That's You
2025.04.17
Thursday, April 17, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the weather? O/
Springtime remove the sweater greener gardens and grounds all around.
Rhymes want out this morning before dawn.
Which is fine with me.
Game on.
Away we go,
On with our show...
...
Who are you? My reader of readers extraordinaire? Who are you in this dream?
We ought to know who we're writing, speaking, singing, strumming our violins to while we do or we're just expressing to ourselves ourself.
We're just talking to ourself.
Never a good thing without awareness of the act, without the intent to define our story of our place in the world to improve our life.
Old woman, old man, young woman, young man; who are you?
You're a dreamer; you're humanity at large.
That's a big Good morning to give.
Consider this a big Good morning: O/
You're the Earth; you're the spirit of the World.
Good morning. O/ We haven't been so kind to you, neglected our house.
We're doing our best to do better.
Thanks for a place to build our dreams.
You're one solitary soul; you're feeling alone.
You're not.
Good morning, you read these words.
You're not alone. I hear you, feel you, friend you in dreams.
I hold you in words, I write the melody of us we make when I dream of you reading me.
Who are you and where?
Right now you're the sharer of my dream of you.
I think you're pretty cool, fine and something divine lives in you.
Hopefully you recognize it's the voice right now in your mind as you read:
That's you.
Say hello from me.
From my ghost to yours say Good morning.
Want to find out who you are?
Read a few words, say hello, know that's you, know that's your gift divine, know it's what we mean when we awkwardly say soul.
Read something, dream something, know your soul, take care and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Ghost, Ironic
2025.03.22
Saturday, March 22, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Pictures of your life matching your dreams?
AI prompts based on other people’s expectations of your life producing failed feedback to get in the way of actual you?
As AI gets more prevalent we have to start having more conversations on identity and the morality of the internet.
We must not forget or belittle the importance of physical touch in our lives. Sight, sound, taste, and smell are as much a part of who you are as the sights and sounds of online that seek to represent you.
An internet thumbprint can never replace the physical touch and presence of you.
Breath to breath, body near body, eye to eye is always the best way to know someone. It is the foundation of any true personal relationship.
Internet business is for the internet. Life is for living and that means touch and air and the present of presence.
To be complete any personal relationship has to, from time to time, share the same sense of place.
If you never looked a person directly in the eye, shared the same air, you can never truly know them.
Image devoid of substance is a step removed from life and so lacks in experience.
That common saying after a friend relays a memory to you with an excited voice and the words fail to communicate their experience, “Guess you had to be there,” is the true experience of most of our online relationships.
An online portrayal of ourselves leaves a poor trail of evidence to portray who and what we actually are.
These words ironically from a writer with the avatar +he Ghos+.
Can you ever, regardless how refined and original they may be, truly know me through these words?
No.
But you can know me better.
I could post image after image of myself on this site, but the pictures would no more represent me than the AI generated ones I use in every post.
An image that a man in his 40’s, about 6’3’’, with eyes as blue as the skies he sings sits here scribbling these words to you, can only be a representative of the humbly handsome charismatic guy I am.
Not me, myself.
Should we meet on any street after you’ve read me you know me better by my words.
My words and images are not me; they are an expression of me. An expression called my ghost.
I’ve been writing for a long time and know myself and my views well. How I imagine life comes through in a clear original way.
AI can’t emulate me because only I make me.
Same as you.
AI can’t write a symphony like Beethoven if Beethoven never existed.
AI can’t write like Wynn without O/ me.
The drive and purposed spirit of Beethoven is in every note.
My drive and spirit is in each word here. It comes through in every syllable.
I worked hard so it could. I bring all the sincere truth of my thoughts and imaginings to every sentence, so you can best sense my meanings.
To create a story, a film, a song using another's image is to make a lie.
It is not Art. It is a bastardization of Art.
It can be a tool to help you better understand your craft, but it can never express any experience of your true self. Except, perhaps, your willingness to use another for your own personal gain.
To say a picture, story, poem, or song is your own using another artist’s work is the work of a coward scared to share their own experience in a clear unique way.
Unless the experience they’re attempting to express is the theft of another’s work to make a profit for themselves.
Art imitates life not art.
We genuinely express ourselves to share our experience to enrich yours, to help you not feel so alone, to give you new language to understand your own life; write your own story of you, paint your own picture of you, sing your own song of you.
There’s much more to be said regarding sincerity and morality in the Age of AI.
The conversation must begin with the Spirit. We have to get practical talking about soul if we’re to stay true to the purpose of living a good honest life.
What purpose is having a name if another can steal it for their own personal greed?
What purpose is having a body if another can contort the image of it online for their own childish shouts for attention to cover up their fear to share anything genuine from their own personal heart?
This is a main topic of discussion for me. There’s a lot more to say.
Standing up for the power of the spirit, for the reality of the Ghost in each of us, is part of my life’s work.
My name, like every poets word, is no coincidence.
In this AI Age someone’s got to have our spirit’s back.
Join me, be true to you the best you can with what today has to offer, be your story of you intentionally, take care, and make a wonderful day.