Staff in Right
- Operator
- Apr 30
- 6 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
Tempest
Skillful pilots gain their reputation
from storms and tempest.
After June of 2023 I started writing every day with unconcerned failures.
They were my first drafts to make sense of what happened without caring what I wrote. They are stilll within my current writing, but more polished and focused. I know, since that is what first drafts are, the Truth, but uncontrolled and unfocused.
Even if I never read them, it was important to express the magnitude of what was done, so I could get it out of the way.
I know Art
Too much passion in a belief will taint the work, too personal and raw, and disappinted when no one understands it.
The Artists that are self taught usually don't find the focus needed.
Hard work and not being forgiving is where the progress is made. It has to be challenging or else you rely on memorizations. That was one of the reasons I never finished, since I didn't want to improve on being careful.
Most don't find the techniques needed, which are built on previous techniques. That is how style is found, from trial and error.
I continued to write without reading since I could tell, I wasn't ready yet.
Critiquing my own work is what I learned at the Academy. Twice a week like clockwork.
I had to keep writing, it had too much pain and demand to prove the Truth.
I needed to get past that and get to the beauty of what happened, which was I survived.
There was positive to those unread first drafts.
Quantity.
I was riding the wave of emotions and just letting it take me to the 3 hour mark of writing every day.
Statmina has to be built up, for me anyway. I don't like taking long spans of sprinting with creating. I enjoy marathon runs to get it all done.
There was fear in the writing, of dancing around the issue of saying what I felt.
The writing was sad to read on the rare occassion I read them.
I was afraid of them, and rightly so.
The last page of the Metronome reveal the spots they hide, and the Pyrrhic Circle shows just how outnumbered I was. It was frightening and still is a little. I just learned how to control the stress of knowing and not stop me from writing.
It took over a years to have the courage to write back and ask one thing to Beta.
What happened on the June 28?
The response, don't have time to read it, and see you in court...sigh...escalate.
They have a right not to tell me.
I discovered through this whole ordeal, when one begs for answers, you give the power to the ones that have something over you.
It is easier to not beg and walk away.
I won't put myself in a position to keep asking.
Similar to trust, one and done.
Accept what is given and know you don't ask again.
Time is too short to wait on people.
The value of asking again and not gettting an answer normalizes the stress that they control.
But that doesn't mean I don't get to write the Truth, of an experience that is a part of me.
One cannot own the Truth by avoiding answering, the one that can give the Truth, is the one that is not afraid.
You have to face the joy and hardships, and Everything in Between.
Universe
The clearest way into the Universe
is through a forest wilderness.
I went to North Carolina to get my bearing after the youngest final correspondence. It did cause me to feel stressed since it could happen again...a story that could be believed by the Shields, no matter how untrue.
There was reality to the threat that others don't seem to see. That is exactly what happenedo n the June 28, and I got taken away without any belief in what I said.
My Truth was taken away with that Title.
I just went to a place to stop feeling the fear that was building, I couldn't breath and was failing at work. My step-daughters words reminded me of the 12 days I was helpless and had to obey, and I just didn't want that to happen, no matter how invalid the reason she had for uttering the words, Blue Shield.
I was scared.
Their words hold power over Truth, and simple beliefs can cause harm to me.
I went to Asheville, North Caroline, where an actual Tempest struck.
Hurricane Helene.
It was ironic that I ran into a storm that week, since I was running from the Tempest of my fear.
The Hurricane was the magnituted reflected how I felt inside. Destruction of everything in the path of that storm.
The Universe said, "Face the Tempest to better yourself. To run is showing that you are a coward."
Poles were downed, roads were flooded, people were stranded without any gas. It was utter destruction that surrounded me.
The carnage felt like how I felt internally.
The Great Flood that I write about was Hurricane Helene, that was inspiration.
Everything was destroyed and people came together, knowing they needed each other.
It was an experience that I saw the power of community, even though I was on the outsider.
It made it all the more powerfulm ti see a eason for people to come together and help.
I wrote a lot of the stories during that storm since I had all the time without shelter but the car.
They were clearer and without fear.
I felt safer than being near Certain and her daughters, which was sad.
I had to get stronger, and I did.
The breath away from them gave me the courage to write without fear.
The hurricane felt safer than being near them. That is how much power they had over me based on their word.
It was all that I needed, a week without any electricity or gas, and just getting by for a week.
I appreciated what I had, even if it was not much, and found my gratitude life.
Take it one day at a time.
I wrote the first 9 lines of White Sand, while I was stranded in a parking lot, along with all the rest of the people stranded.
White Sands
Hope
I imagine that the quiet times
were most likely the hardest
for my wife's sister.
Especially the late nights,
filled with shadows.
The stillness is where silence is felt.
The waiting can be unbearable,
especially when hope seems lost.
I am sure she prayed into the empty nights
when she was alone.
I am sure the emptiness
made her feel even more alone.
One thing I have no doubt though,
her prayers were filled with hope.
Hope is never wasted, no matter the results.
It is a gift brought into this world.
Direct
Write the Truth, perfect yoru meaning
I wrote those lines because that was how I was feeling at the time, alone with hope out of my reach.
I wanted to pray.
It was the closest I ever got to praying for something to make the Tempests stop that would always be in my life.
Certain and her daughters don't back down, they double down.
They have an undefeated record of being right.
I ran because I felt I had to go to a different state to be away from them.
The trip to the North Carolina showed how one can't run from your problems. The Tempests in our life follow us until you face them.
I returned home and said to myself.
"I am going to write it the way I want, which is direct."
My first painting I created is the above still life. I just mixed the paint and just painted directly. That one was done in one sitting. I didn't try to get it to look perfect, and it had raw colors applied, thick and without any polish.
That is my natural style. Direct and fast.
Truth
Truth is its own reward
After my five years of studying painting, those raw and direct style remained. The paiting above took as long as my first paiating. I just got better at controlling the paint, and countless techniques found from countless restarts.
That is how I am going to write.
Fast and to the point, with tehcniques found with the rewrites.
Hopefully my writing will loke the one above in 5 years or so, but it doesn't matter.
It is going to be better than where it is now.
Have to get better while there is this seriously odd things that are happening as I try to Get the Pyhhric Dance done.
That is the page that has to persuade the Shields that my Truth is both believalbe, true and can overcome the Title they will see as soon as they pull my name.
Level of difificulty is high, and the longer it takes, the more chances the Sp;otted have.
Luck can only last so long, but I have to do my best easch day to both write and keep moving.
good speed & good luck.
Started 4/30/25
