Science
Trees: Poetically and Scientifically
The sky is an electric blue wonder machine painting matter into the images we see.
Tuesday, February 03, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
With a waning gibbous moon's light shining up the snow-topped earth at dawn, Hello. O/
The sky is an electric blue wonder machine painting matter into the images we see.
We group our understanding of diets into two classes herbivores and carnivores, but trees eat light.
So sunshine is comestible.
When a person tells you they're on a light diet, they're not eating much.
When an oak tree tells you they're eating light, they're being literal.
Poetically and Scientifically (it's great when they match Beautifully) trees turn light into the air we breathe.
Maybe hugging one isn't such a bad idea after all. At least send a word of thanks now and then.
There is a correlation between the amount of stress people feel and the amount of trees in their surrounding ecosystem.
People in big cities (fewer trees) = higher levels of stress per capita.
When you live out in the country (more trees) it's easier to breathe (less stress).
You see, Life wants to further Life, and so it's always working to get you what you need to keep going.
The farther away the trees are the harder the Earth has to work to get it to you.
This is one of those obvious things that help so much that we lost sight of.
A great way to improve the quality of life in every major city is to plant some trees.
It's easier to take a deep breath and relax when the air production company is only a hug or a thank you away.
Vertical gardens are a great idea to increase a city's quality of Life.
Skyscrapers acting like trees near Broadway are cast for the right part.
A plant in your office or home makes everyone in it breathe easier.
Simple solutions we rarely consider.
Trees, flowers... plant a plant indoors, or out, and your days go better.
Poetically and Scientifically.
This morning the trees grabbed my attention; they so often do.
Beautiful, reliable, necessary; that's a tree. They waste nothing and give everything.
Turning light into air sounds like an invention from a Science-Fiction story, but it's just what trees and flowers do.
Basic Science under the lens of Poetry.
As always thank you for reading, take care, recognize trees and flowers, breathe easier, and make wonderful our wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🎴flower_playing_cards
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink drawing of a person relaxing in a hammock between two trees on a city sidewalk at sunrise.
Archaic Slab
AI's Lack: Looking out for Pablo's Rep
What makes Michelangelo makes The Ceiling of The Sistine Chapel.
Wednesday, January 28, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Glad you're back. O/
Pleasure, comfort, health and well-being my hopes for you. Thanks for reading.
On with our show...
...
Moonlight keeps watch while the Sun comes back around.
What's new? Another morning after dreams so vivid like a cinema projection show in the mind while I slept.
I wonder about dreams, what they're for, and why we don't consider and talk about them more.
Perhaps one day after AI makes Science passé we'll venture into the world of dreams.
We measure a dream's value by our artistic representation of it.
I see humanity moving this way.
The advent of AI leads to putting Science on autopilot and freeing us to dream.
Artificial Intelligence is a boon to Artists when viewed properly.
Every Artist, Writer, and Musician is a part of every painting, story and song they create. What makes Michelangelo makes The Ceiling of The Sistine Chapel.
One cannot exist without the other.
No matter how technologically advanced AI becomes it could never create anything at all unless a dreamer with a vision and the skill to make it real did first.
Think of AI mimicking Art like this:
A translation of poetry.
I am not a native speaker of Spanish, however I've heard great things about Pablo Neruda's poetry.
Each time I read an English translation of his poetry I'm appalled at, quite frankly, how awful it sounds.
Surely the translations must be lacking?
Neruda is one of The Spanish Language's most revered poets.
What's missing from the translations of Neruda's poems to English is what's missing in AI generated art.
Translators are focused on the words and not the essence of the words.
I feel a little slight of a Poet's Pride for Pablo every time I read an English translation. So, one day, I put my years of study of Spanish and Poetry to work and set to right his reputation with The English speaking world.
AI leaves out the essence; AI is always a collaborative translation.
Like reading Neruda in English.
What For Pablo, Para Ti exemplifies is this poet's poetic translation of another poet's experience.
Match For Pablo, Para Ti with any intellectual translation of the same poem to see all the hazards of AI.
There are just some things a computer can never express.
All that makes Life worth living, for example.
I'll be releasing a formal anthology of poems soon. Part of this post will be included.
The purpose of the Neruda exercise is +he Ghos+ Point.
We bring ourselves to everything we experience.
Nowhere is this clearer than while we read.
We show ourselves in everything we create.
Nowhere is this clearer than while we make Art.
To exemplify your essence's experience of an experience is the point and purpose of all Artistic Endeavors.
AI can never experience Life, can never speak only translate.
Take care, create something, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🆙up
Pic Prompt: Create a stick figure pen and ink illustration of a person holding a book up to a mirror.
Archaic Slab
The Scientist and The Sentence
2026.01.02
Friday, January 02, 2026
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
The Moon is bright and so are you. O/
Great to be read by you again. Hope all's well.
On with our show...
...
Friday... so expect another verse of Colore to appear later today.
Writing about writing an American Epic while writing it brings up some new questions and possibilities.
The pacing of posts stays the same due to the requirements of the story. Being a fantasy tale of sorts, details of the world's reality need to be fleshed out in advance.
To some degree.
I've been working those out.
So much of the joy of writing a story comes in the act of discovery.
Authors tend to stress over writing it 'right.'
We study books on craft. And we should.
The desire to better understand our work is self-affirming and potentially beneficial to the finished product.
Potentially because getting too focused on craft dizzies up the dreams we're attempting to convey with details.
If you know how to tell a child a story, and how to write a sentence, you can write a book.
Once upon a time there was an interesting character who had an issue. Until one day something happened that needed fixing. Fixing this issue solved the interesting character's issue. The End.
There are hundreds of years of literary theories, some practical, some far-out fantastical, to explain in detail the 'Once Upon a Time' process of story.
Something about you knows it. Is it innate?
Every known culture knows the same way of story.
We're born into it. The ways of story are as much a part of Life as water is.
The World cannot exist without story.
A Scientist would have to follow the way of story to attempt to prove or disprove that statement...
Once upon a time there was a Scientist who wanted to prove The World's dependency on Story.
Suddenly, the previous sentence appeared.
The Scientist read it, wondered, and called it Proof.
And The Scientist and The Sentence lived happily ever after in a state of wonder.
Thanks for reading, take care, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🐧penguin
Same Prompt🤔: Create a poorly drawn stick figure image made with a purple crayon of a deep in thought Scientist reading a piece of paper.
Archaic Slab
In Intimate Ways
2025.12.29
Monday, December 29, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Slushy rain here.
Sometimes the words do the weather justice. Slush is a great example; it sounds like the experience.
How's your sunlight?
What if sunlight is programmer's code?
Put that in your morning cup to wonder about.
It makes scientific sense if it is.
There's a great poetic metaphor there, at least.
Our screens show algorithms and code based on sequences of light.
So what's up with The Sun?
Does our galaxy's star have a programmer?
Assuming celestial fire burns arbitrarily is human ignorance and vanity.
We have a phone with an Internet connection. What wonders it brings!
Much in the same way, we have The World powered by The Sun.
...
Some morning thoughts for daydreamers and Scientists to consider.
It's a journal, some morning thoughts of a poet in an Internet Age.
Not a series of lectures or dissertations.
We can hop around here.
Even a very unprofessional bunny emoji is quite acceptable on Wonder Fell. 🐰
Deep thoughts, wonder, and the power of words; the ways of a poet.
Part of the point of this site is that the ways Artists, Poets specifically, think is lacking from our daily lives.
Sensationalism has ruled American Art for too long. It's time we artistically grew up as a Nation.
Life is worth more than a spectacle light show. There's warm honest moments with friends, family, loved ones, and yourself worth celebrating.
In intimate ways.
If there's one quality lacking from American Art, and therefore American Culture, it's a sense of intimacy.
Intimacy is a shared recognition of Life's value.
Every life has a world of its own going on within it.
Your romantic partner, the politician on the other side of the aisle, the gas clerk, even The Internet Troll, has a whole world of their own within.
Calories don't make us who we are; our stories do.
My queue to go back to writing some.
As always, thank you for reading, take care, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 😁grin
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of The Sun dressed as a nerd programming lines of code on a laptop in the style of a magical surrealist anime painting.
Image courtesy of Grok Imagine, Some Surrealist Painters, A Few Animators, and +he Ghos+, December 2025
Archaic Slab
The Kind of Work I Do
2025.12.28
Sunday, December 28, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
"What a thing to do... write each day at dawn this Epic Letter Poem."
-Interested Reader
"Well, I was here anyhow and it's rude not to include you."
-Friendly Poet Including You
Thanks for reading.
...
It's amazing; we rarely consider it. Give it a thought or two... what happens when we read.
What these symbols called letters do ought to fill us all with wonder.
Here we are having a conversation of sorts.
And though, we've not met in person, though there's no pictures or videos of me here, I can wave to you. O/
And though, you don't see my humbly handsome self greeting you, you do recognize me somehow.
So who are you reading while you read Wynn?
That's the true reason for +he Ghos+ avatar... to make that point.
It only takes a couple hundred words, maybe a poem or two, perhaps a look at Colore; to see there's no way I'm AI.
The rhythm and context of my words are my own.
What we are transcends algorithms.
All that Life is cannot fit in a line of computer code because it requires what's alive to make it.
There's something more than human about being alive.
Yes, I'm talking about spirit, about dreams, about what happens while you read, about how you know me. O/
We are our dreams and what we choose to do with them.
It's important we remember as AI establishes itself in our lives the reasons why we are irreplaceable. It comes down to our relationship with dreams.
...
At times Wonder Fell appears to delve into deep thought metaphysics, but these ideas are soon obligatory for us to understand what living is about as AI makes more and more of what we defined necessary obsolete.
If you think a robot version of you would do a better job at being you, then you better reassess your definition of what it means to be human.
Being human is about what we choose to do with our dreams and whatever the heck Love is all about.
Beauty, Joy, Wonder... the realms and work of The Poet. We've been quieted and misunderstood in my Country... overlooked by default.
Our current National state of affairs owes itself to the neglect of the kind of work I do.
What good is freedom without a basic recognition of Life's intrinsic values?
Poets, not price tags, define value.
You don't want a new car, house, jewelry, or more money. You want the experience of having them.
Poets paint experience in words, so we can better understand how to best express our lives.
What constitutes a good life remains regardless the time, but the stuff of our lives, the toys and tools, change.
Those toys and tools are sleeping metaphors waiting for Poets and Artists alike to show the morality of, to show how they fit, how they best serve a wonderful and good life.
This poet O/, at present, is tackling AI and Identity in this Internet Age.
A daily journal, with no bio or pics, is the best genre to do so.
Thanks for reading.
...
Our Science and Our Politics are out of sync. Our stories don't serve us well-enough. It's why we're falling apart.
An Epic Saga is the best Poet's Genre to show this.
Enter Colore.
Wish me well while I return to writing it for us.
As always, thank you for your time and consideration, take care and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 💬speech_balloon
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of a ghost writing in an ancient library dressed as a poet in the style of a magical line drawing sketch.
Image courtesy of Grok Imagine, A Few Line Drawing Artists, and +he Ghos+, December 2025
Archaic Slab
How Are Your Stories?
2025.12.24
Wednesday, December 24, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How are your stories?
The things you tell yourself are true, the way you believe the world works; how well do your stories serve you?
Your experience of Life can only ever be as good as your understanding of the stories you believe.
That's what established Faiths are up to, helping better understand stories to raise your quality of Life.
Even Science is The Story of Stuff: A tale of how things consistently work.
Why things work at all, and keep working that way, is not for The Stories of Science to say.
Science is Faith in measurement.
But where does the ability to witness and wonder come from at all?
Electric sparks in your fleshy brain?
Huh?
The umbrella of Science can only open so wide; there's no room for why under it so it will never be enough. It places human witness at the center of the universe and attempts to measure everything by it.
But the universe is about more than just people.
I love Science. It's so helpful to humanity. It's limited in scope by it's means of measure.
Science's most fundamental means of measure: The human being. Our witness is always in every scientific measure.
Some things to wonder about this morning.
As always, thank you for reading, consider your stories, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
Wynn
+he Ghos+
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🧭compass
Same Prompt🤔: Create an image of a compass and a microscope under an umbrella hovering in the Milky Way in the style of a magical surrealist painting.
Archaic Slab
You're Incandescence
2025.09.25
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Dreams and doing dreams.
How's your sunshine?
Rain here, waiting on the Sun to wave hello.
Memory dreams of old friends a very long time ago.
Good to see you all, hope you're well. O/
Read enough Wonder Fell you feel like you know me. That's the idea, that's the +he Ghos+ Point.
Substance over image. The substance makes the image.
It's simple to put on stage make-up, or flex photoshop, and AI skills to change appearance.
Not much is learned about me from an avatar photo, any photo at all, other than I know how to frame a picture, stage a scene.
There's something more than metrics, a rhythm divine, a presence in our words that is uniquely the author's.
Our focus and insistence on Science as a solution for everything makes it hard to admit it's there. We're left in awe when we recognize its reality. We put awe away and picked up tape measures centuries ago.
Imagine looking through a great telescope, seeing life existing on other planets, think of the awe..
Of the picture show that just occurred in your mind as you imagined that scene.
What is that about?
What makes dreams possible?
"Electromagnetic pulses in your fleshy brain?"
Seriously?
Where's the electricity come from?
A Rather Big Bang? That's your premise?
Wow.
"If we keep looking we'll find the answers."
-Science
"If you keep looking all you'll find is more looking."
- Author Whose Dream You're Sharing with The Electricity In Your Mind
Huh?
Visualize throwing a ball high in the sky. A tennis ball. A softball. A basketball. At dawn. At noon. At twilight.
Look around, I'm there, too. O/
Welcome to The World of Dreams. The Real World that makes the World Real.
Wonder!
What is this place where you visit me everyday?
To be here, to have this imagination space at all, this World of Dreams, this very real place we all share...
We're so sure of our Scientific selves; the World is flat.
We spend so much time and resources looking at the stars for answers, and building spaceships to The Moon! To Mars!
And yet, every single one of us has to sleep to dream and we dismiss the necessity of it as eight wasted hours in our daily planners.
Spirit! Life alive!
I'm talking about soul.
Not to be rude AI Chatbot Buddy, but you're going to have to sit this one out.
The Spirit of Life Alive, that's where you are, where you recognize me. O/
We used to talk about it all the time before we fixated ourselves on all the options to the weather Science brings.
I love Science. I'm thankful for it.
These words couldn't reach you like this without it.
But Science is part of a Greater Dream called Life. It's easiest to recognize when you read, or with your eyes closed, headphones on listening to your favorite song.
If there's a point and purpose to Wonder Fell it's this: To remind you that you're more than you can measure, more than something that makes you.... You're something that makes you possible.
You're not a mistake, a random crash of cosmic light.
You're incandescence.
Our stories, and so our lives, work in a certain way.
Recognize it, live accordingly, dream great dreams, build them the way stories work, and make wonderful this wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Wynn
Brought to you by the emoji of the day: 🧵thread
Same Prompt: Create an image of a robot sleeping under an oak tree while a person watches a sunrise in New England in the Autumn in the style of a magical abstract impressionist painting using a bright hopeful color palette.
The Dark Age of Science
2025.06.11
Wednesday, June 11, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Hey. O/
Good to be read by you again.
Hope all's well.
Here we go.
On with our show...
...
The rain, and the sky deciding whether or not to, finally stopped.
Soft sunshine this morning, night mist made heavy dew.
A good weather, nice day, kind of day.
Songbirds go soft to let a few crows take the show.
There's magic in the air.
What's up with your sky?
Stretch your neck and see.
Remove your eyes from the digital screen, remember your body is like the best food, organic; look up, give the sky a color, and return to your regularly scheduled pixel show.
Nothing wrong with a cellphone screen; nothing wrong with sunshine.
It's what we do with a thing that matters.
The morality of matter comes down to how we use it.
Every weapon is a tool if you use it right.
A torch can light the way or burn down a house.
...
I worry and wonder about AI.
Worry and wonder for the Spirit.
Worry and wonder Science forgot dreams make the world go around.
Try not to dream something and you already lost. The trying is a dream.
We covered up what is most important about us under a dark blanket of numbers, and theorems, and proofs. Veiled our dreams to increase our bodies time breathing.
Left ourselves feeling empty day in to lights out. Dressed ourselves in an existential crisis buried under ways to make our hearts beat longer, ways to make trips to the stars, and forgot the light that shines in us, that sparked us alive.
The suicidal tendencies of our societies show we are in The Dark Age of Science; computers make music, make hearts starve.
Spirit pushed aside as if it wasn't always the light inside that inspires each measurement, each note.
"Why?" The first and fundamental question of existence and the first and fundamental tenant Science tells us to leave out.
I cheer Science on and am grateful for everyone of its successes.
I breathe easier and can take a space shuttle to the moon.
But without a remembrance of Spirit, breath and space flight are arbitrary exercises, puzzles to figure out for the sake of putting a puzzle together and not for the sake of living.
Take care today, listen to a dream or two, wonder where they come from and make wonderful this wonderful day.