Meta4

Operator
Jun 9
14 min read

Updated: Sep 2

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Arts

The only faith I believe will always be, and will always remain, the Arts.

Art is that statue of Victory above, a concept that took form in my writing. For me, Art is the path that leads to making the most decisions, which helps the choices made in life. It is a testing ground that prepares better than any practical course.

I was a painter back in the day, who lasted 7 years before I called it quits.

I lost interest because I was unprepared for the marathon.

I didn't practice painting, and I got what I deserved.

Faith does not survive if neglected.

It was the single most important lesson I ever experienced.

Something I loved just denied me the joy I took for granted.

I didn't think it was possible until it happened.

It was a break in the pattern.

I learned from my mistake.

I was given a second chance,

which I discovered by chance.

I didn't want to be a writer.

I needed to be a writer.

My wife and daughter, who I hold no grudge against, took my Name.

Benefit of the doubt is what allowed them to take my identity.

Silence is what keeps them safe from the theft.

Tests in life are choices, ignoring a decision that needs to made, is a choice of cowardice.

I had to be a writer to break the silence.

To live my life,

and not define who I am,

when it has been take,

is not a life worth living.

My life would have little meaning, except that I allowed someone to steal my Name and I did nothing about it.

I don't really do anything unless I have to.

Sorry

Maria Isabel Williams

&

Maya Byrd,

it just is one of those, "I have to."

I would like to reclaim my Name, metaphorically of course.

No one can really steal my Name unless I give consent.

And I did not give consent to my wife or daughter.

They are spotted as insinceres.

Excel

After 20 years of excelling with Excel, writing is my next path towards Art.

Same direction but a new road, for a journey that I never stopped traveling.

I have always continued to study and practice, which kept my faith in myself to keep growing.

I never quit trying, though there were spans I was lazy, since I did not take the direct path.

I walked the practical road, and kept my creativity in uncreative fields.

I avoided artistic roles at all cost, until I was ready to go all out.

I studied art with dull jobs. I have witnessed my peers who lost their love of art because it was a job. A paid job drain and degrade the mind, especially if it comes to art.

Putting what you love to do in the hands of another is foolish.

Better to work alone and for free.

Excel is a blank canvas named Sheet1.

Faith

Think of me as a devout monk.

My relationship with Art is my own, and I see her as a Mother, based off all the mothers I have met, including my wife, who taught her daughter how to be an accomplice.

Experience is the greatest teacher.

I draw from negative, more so than positive, and find my own form where they meet.

A line or shade can be found.

It is the contrasts that reveal,

reflections of opposites,

which bring clarity to both.

I didn't know I was still a follower of the Arts, while in the practical world, until I started working with data, in my mid forties.

And then it happened.

A Break in the Pattern.

She suddenly appeared from a response from the head of department, Randy.

He was acting as if my code was inferior, and a dual of who was right was experienced.

I just asked him to look at the code, and the reply I got was,

"My code is better, and you are wrong."

Someone was jelly and it amused me.

I hadn't seen this type of pettiness in a while, a peer pouting by comparing his art to mine.

My boss's boss boss, BossCube, was competing with me over a code.

I thought to myself with a smile,

"I am back in Art school."

"I remember this feeling of jellyness."

It was a powerful moment of holy shit, um I was now competing against my teacher.

This was a first.

A teacher ignoring the answer given, and saying no constantly.

Disbelief.

He didn't even look at my code, so he can say it didn't work.

um...it was tested and it worked....so what is this make belief?

I made a code that made Randy's head spin so fast. that he originally said it is not possible, then he replied, here is how to do it, which earlier he said it couldn't be done.

He was a king that was given a magic code from a servant that was a temp, and he refused to use it becuase he didn't know how it made sense.

He panicked.

He was just unsure how to react with my 1200 line code I asked him to check.

I don't think he could read it since it was original.

He was a walking contradiction and arguing with himself, while I looked on with curiosity.

"Do you want me to leave while the two of you finish this argument?"

He was essentially telling me no, no matter what, to prove his know was larger than my know.

He reminded me of my wife, and I had a revelation.

My wife taught me insincerity, since I was initially reluctant to show him the code.

Sort of like judges and policeman, after years on the job, who can read if someone is telling the truth...I lived with the most insincere family and worked for them 24/7...and I now could read....insincerity.

I learned on the job, of the toughest marriage, that I am grateful for.

I love them, but they taught me so much, by not loving me.

I can't think of one sincere moment with them, to be honest.

I knew Randy would react this way.

My read of how he would react was spot on, he was spotted as insincere.

My time in the Wilderness was well spent, since I got the hell out of that job.

I didn't want to share space with another spotted insincere.

One and done,

gotta moved on.

Spotted are a waste of time, who make believe and understand conditionally, which means they will always find ways to be right, and always for their benefit.

I was married once, and I didn't want another marriage that would end up the same way, um where you are right all the time.

Make belief and conditional understanding is like someone cheating at life, and being the referee and sort of playing the game fair, but not really.

"I didn't mean it like that, or I didn't say that...or you misunderstood."

Nope I understand, you don't like to be wrong.

Sorry, you are going to to have to play make belief with someone else...since I think, mentally, they never outgrow the imaginary stage of life.

Like they have never been rejected in life, so they make sure, to never be rejected by being wrong.

That is my diagnosis of spotted insincere. Could be wrong, but not risking it. They are a big black hole to my time...because they love...engagement.

They love to prove themselves right constantly.

Not sure why, maybe they like to compete.

I have faith in people, but I am selective of who is allowed in my space, since I value my time.

Philosophers Stone Program

Fastest Ride on the Plains

Story

Funny Video

Test of Time

Test

Demo of the Program

11:40 for

1200 lines of code

Proof

View of the Program

Shows how it works

good speed

Randy, Departmental head of multiple departments, was not a good patron of the Arts.

The one thing I learned from my time in the Wilderness is that I can't force anyone to ever keep their word.

All I can do is keep my word, and also keep the words spoken to me.

Towards the end, I didn't let them off the hook.

No matter how unreasonable, it focuses away from the complaint of those that break their word constantly, by having to keep the words said and keeping it.

No matter what, that is what they said and I will hold myself to it.

A debate what they meant is not on the table.

If you said it, I will honor it.

I do that with anyone and it has made my life very simple.

It's like those that dare and give an insincere gesture.

Those are sincere to me, to keep your insincerity balanced.

Anyway, I was only a temp because of the Title my wife gave me, gotta go the speed limit placed on my career.

Can't apply for jobs I am a best fit for, which would be anything that is challenging.

The more challenging the problem, the more effort I put into the solution.

I gave my two weeks when I realized I can figure anything out if I put my mind to it.

My interest went to writing.

The luck in finding that temp job was, I proved how fast I can learn something new.

I learned how to code Salsify in a few months and the subject matter expert, Randy, was unable to decipher what I wrote, even though it worked.

Writing is new, so I gave that a try, and never looked back.

Dance

Art is like a Spartan Mother who says,

"Come back with your shield, or on it."

Art is not cruel, just not easy.

Art is subjective, so I make it impossible for myself.

I only give 2 As for myself.

The first and last.

I maintain my best effort knowing I have more to prove.

Everything besides the alpha and omega are fails.

Nothing I do is is ever put on a pedestal.

Tested by constant effort, of pushing what best means.

I have to be found worthy, with just more than belief.

The work has to reflect my effort.

Classical

I am classically trained,

a 2 year drop out,

from an Ivy league.

PAFA.

I studied underneath a museum, surrounded by monuments that have stood the test of time.

That image above is where I spent class, and after class, until that room closed.

I drew and painted a lot of those statues at night.

I didn't stay for any assignments, but just because I wanted to get better.

The statue of Victory watched over me as I spent my nights practicing painting.

She is my favorite sculpture, and I saw her almost every day.

She inspired me and I paid her the highest tribute.

I spent money on a large expensive canvas, the only large piece I consider finished.

I made a study of Victory, with deep hues of blue, white, grey, and I discovered purple.

A new color was found.

I introduced purple in my paintings after, and that palette choice has remained.

Those colors stayed in my later works.

I found my style from that study.

I am a colorist.

Form does not mean anything to me.

Victory never left me and I owe her my appreciation, by making her my centerpiece of my writing.

She is as real to me as the parishioners of other faiths, who I admire for their resolve, to never quit their belief.

No matter what, my Faith in the Arts is unbreakable.

Reward

The reward for Art is not material, but the immaterial of finding who you are through expression.

The Everything in Between is the soul of the work.

What can be seen is for the audience, but the work remains within the artist that created it.

That is where Art is, the doing and learning.

I am the prodigal son who returned with a pen instead of a brush.

Painting was not meant for me.

I needed something faster to create.

My mind can't take the boredom of waiting for paint to dry.

I sort of always knew painting wasn't going to be my thing.

Too slow.

But that didn't stop me from doing my best.

I got to learn how to master the art of images, which made it easier to master the art of logic, and now on my way to try to master writing, without even knowing the rules.

Don't have time to learn.

Doing is a more efficient way to learn.

Study as I go, instead of having traffic jams at the start.

If asked, "Well do you know this rule to writing?"

My answer will always be,

"Nope."

"Could care less,

too busy writing."

Just gotta keep writing,

continue trying,

and reading my work.

It still hurt though, to not get the return of joy I was used to.

I loved painting.

I was constantly doing and thinking about it, to show my appreciation through action.

I rarely expressed how much I loved painting, since I was too busy doing to explain.

I just did, and knew, that was enough for me.

Saying is wasting time to the doing.

Meaning

Meaning of words are defined by our experiences, not definitions from others or scholars.

Words mean differently for everyone, the most subjective art in my opinion.

Experiences are pages from one's life.

If one learns from them, experiences will change.

If not, same cycle remains.

The effort put into studying reflect one's understanding.

If one can comprehend experiences of the past, the words will have meaning.

Not the other way around, of words defining the meaning without the experience.

That is simply belief.

I love art, understood by the hours, days, weeks, and years continuing doing.

I experienced love

through creating art.

I believe we are placed on this earth to find something to love doing.

I have witnessed those who were not so lucky, who did not love doing anything, so they found love of things.

What they were willing to do, for love of the material, emptied their Self, until all that was left was their worst instinct.

A willingness to sacrifice another.

They were a void of Self, no longer able to keep their identity.

I still don't know who they are.

I only know what they did, were willing to do, and continue to do to me.

Their meaning of words were defined only if it would benefit them towards material things.

Writing

I created this site to ensure I would never quit writing.

This is a sketchbook.

I love writing more than I did painting, for one simple reason, less space and supplies needed.

All I need is a laptop, my thoughts. and free Wi-fi, which is readily available for the cost of overpriced coffee.

I write everywhere, like I used to sketch back in the day.

The easier it is to start your work, the easier it will be to do the work.

The only difference is I can finish, no longer limited with just studies.

I don't need a studio.

I wrote while my wife's sister was in the hospital, my very first story.

White Sands.

Gratitude

There are still lines from our conversation in the hospital.

I asked Myra what she wanted to do once she was cured from cancer.

She hesitated, likely because she didn't think she was going to survive.

I wanted to hear her words on what she wanted most in her life, so I could write it down.

Her answer was beautiful.

“I want to become closer to God and thank Him for his blessings.”

I wrote that down right after the experience we shared, so I wouldn't forget.

That was when the story started, in May of 2023, when she was dying.

I continued to write that story, and a year later, in a letter to my wife, a first draft remained and was not deleted.

I wrote countless drafts to this one story.

My letters to my wife are complete works.

My intent is only to keep my Art that I earned, through experiences with her.

My wife is my opposite, a juxtaposition in form, which showed who I am when faced with a contrast.

Myra's last words to me were,

"I love you brother, I just want you to know that."

I wanted to write a story in gratitude of her last words to me. That was when I decided to finish her story, no matter what.

I love Myra. She was sweet person and sincere.

These are my words in real time, still writing a story of her sister, which is why the Title my wife signed is so ironic.

It is the story that imprisoned me for 12 days.

First Draft

Mark DeSimone statements

to Maria Isabel Williams

Thu 2/8/2024 at 3:58 PM

Dearest Isa,

I am grateful that I could have helped by letting you get those last magical moments with her.

I am glad that you could have those last memories created on the island deemed paradise.

In the story below I think I can get you and your family back there.

I can get her back through Faith, from a simple son with no Faith.

First attempt at telling a story to show my wife that I love her.

White Sands: First draft

I see your sister waiting in paradise, walking on the White Sands in her bare foot, waiting to hear your voice.

I think Eternity is whatever you want.

She was special, a True Sister.

Family never let each other down, no matter what.

Loyal to the end.

If you practice the Faith, it doesn't matter when you find it.

The Faith takes you to Eternity.

A non-believer like me, who has no Faith, can see the power of it.

She is a true follower of her faith in family.

Eternity can make the things you wished for all your life become Truth.

She said to Eternity,

"I want to be with my family."

She made her Eternity to be with you.

I understood your sister in that last hug.

I was a part of her family in that one moment.

And since she is family, I will never let them down.

If they ask anything of me, I will do.

I will comfort her sister in her time of need.

Make the memory of both sadness and joy, and everything in between, with your family.

What is lost will return in time.

Nothing is ever lost, only forgotten.

Love always,

Mark

Domain

This domain is a simple sketchbook of my writing, with images to make it easier to read.

It changes tempo.

The best way to improve is to constantly check my work.

No other way to improve except QA.

The work gets better by correcting the mistakes made.

I look for them, or else they remain.

A mistake not searched, is a mistake of intention, which only benefits convenience.

Revision shows effort, an action of still searching for the best, of both the work and Self.

Testing constantly brings out the best, without any concern how long it takes, without any compromise.

Time cannot be controlled, only in due time is time due.

No story is safe from edits.

I add and delete sections, because my thoughts are where the mistakes are, and it could be as simple as a misspell.

These pages are living creations, constantly changing, until the final version appears.

I publish on first draft and continue to make improvements.

Publishing makes the Art real and worthy of my attention, not some hidden file in a subfolder, which I will never look in.

My process is simplified, a swing of motion that creates harmony in proof reading and writing.

Reading my work as a reader helps me improve to become a better writer.

The metronome from writer to reader, back and forth, of want and need.

The want for a better story as a reader, the need for a better version as a writer.

Symmetry is found through the motion.

Garden

Writing is simply catching my thoughts.

When we think, we are talking to ourself, and with writing, I am recording those conversations.

I don't introducte many new thoughts though.

They happen organically.

Too much new evaporates into the meaningless.

As they say, a friend to all, is a friend to none.

There is only one thought I focus my mind on.

It is the same thought I wrote down on Seotember 2, 2022.

I walked outside, looked up at the beautiful night sky and thought, where have all the philosophers disappeared to.

I returned back into my apartment and wrote down my philsophy.

"to be the best I can be"

And I haven't stopped since.

I like to think that our mind is the Garden of Eden.

Our seed of thoughts grow, within the light of reason, or the darkness of our baser sself.

The soil of the ancient duality, of good and evil, are still used in the modern.

My soul is different.

I think only in terms of best and not best, which I find is the best duality for me.

I try to always judge myself truly, and observe only the sincerity in others.