Birthday Boy and the Coughing Game

On August 25th, 2008 my youngest son Micheal Sterling Vollrath was 25 years old.

I didn't want to go out that day as my asthma was as bad as it gets. I never wanted Cordelia my 11 month old grand daughter to see me in such bad shape. I couldn't keep from coughing and I was afraid that would scare little Cordelia.

It was my son's birthday so of course I had to go. I love Micheal so much. We never had a strong connection when he was growing up but our adult relationship has been wonderful. Oh, we still fight over things now and then but one of us says he's sorry and we move on. I'm very proud of Micheal and how good a husband and father he is.

I meet Amanda, Micheal and Cordelia at a Lee's Summit restaurant. Lee's Summit is about halfway between Kingsville Mo. and Independence Mo. As I pulled into the restaurant parking lot I saw my little grand daughter holding on to her father's hand walking in half circles.

My grand daughter looked smaller to me. She was a toddler now and walking her baby fat off with pride glowing from her face. Her father was my little boy and seeing the two together warmed my heart. As I got out of my car and walked towards them Cordelia looked up at me, so proud she was a world class walker now. In that moment she was the most beautiful child in the world to me.

We went into the restaurant and Amanda my Daughter-in-Law had got us a table. As I sat down I began to cough. I looked at Cordelia worried she would be scared. She was laughing and looking at me as if to say, what new game is this grandfather? This made me laugh and cough more and in turn Cordelia laughed more.

The next day Micheal and Cordelia came to see my parents at the Vollrath Complex in Kingsville. I began coughing again and this time Cordelia made little coughing noises. Everyone laughed. I've never had so much fun having asthma before.

Girl in a Fountain

This post is a mixture of dream images, hard truths and wild speculation.

Dream Images will be color coded in blue text.

Hard Truths will be color coded in gray text.

Wild Speculation will be color coded in pink text.

I no longer worked for Science City at Union Station but that didn't stop the nightmares.
I should have fixed the fountain before I was laid off. Dave Kramer my boss wouldn't let me outsource the fix and I couldn't do it in shop without risking my own life. I tossed and turned in my sleep worrying about the children. I had the big two inch thick sheet of plastic on the table saw four or five times but if it bound up it would kick back and possibly kill me. I should have paid out of my own pocket and had it done with a wet saw.

In my dream I was at the fountain floating above it. A little girl fell through grid floor and laid dead of a broken neck in the water beneath the floor. A floor held up by two tiny blocks of plastic too short to be safe.

"It's not my fault, I don't work there anymore."

The three angels came to me.

The Child Angel couldn't tell the differences between life and death.

The Injured Angel had no emotions and had trouble speaking.

The Old Man Angel seemed to be the leader.

The Old Man Angel spoke to me; "Only you can stop this."

"How can I stop this? I couldn't change anything when I was there."

" You moved the picnic table and the bike rack when parents tripped over those obstacles and got hurt."

Said the Old Angel.

"You got the ladder removed from Space Station exhibit when children fell from it and got hurt."

Said the Child Angel.

"The car, the doors, you closed down the car exhibit when children fingers were smashed. You stopped that."

Said the Injured Angel.

"You ask too much. I know these ego mad people they care for only being right and nothing more."

I said this but my words were hollow.

"Only you can stop this." Said the Elder Angel as I fell into hell.

I fell deep into the darkest pit of my soul. Designer Demons created from my own sins swirled around me waiting to feed on my deepest fears. I fell faster and deeper as the Child Angel came near me.

"I am you as a young child. Let me be one with you again and I will give you purity of imagination to do battle against great evil."

With those words the Child Angel became one with me and my decent into hell slowed.

Then the Injured Angel came to me and spoke.

"I am you in a moment of death. You may search for words you can not find in your broken mind but with me you have infinity imagination to do battle with great evil. Let me be one with you again."

The Injured Angel became one with me and my decent into hell stopped.

The Old Angel came to me and spoke.

"I am you in old age. I can give you wisdom to know when to use purity of imagination and when to us the imagination of the infinite. Let me be one with you for the first time."

The Old Angel became one with me and I became a being of pure light. The demons around me burned in the the light and returned to the nothing from which they came. I ascended to the upper heights of my soul to look down on the dark vision of the Girl in a Fountain. For that moment in my dream hell owned no part of my soul.

I floated above the old waiting room of Union Station Kansas City and a family of three came towards the fountain. The little girl of two or three ran towards the fountain but the fountain with its dangerous hidden defect disappeared and she ran on pink marble floor where the fountain once was. I had chanced the future in that moment and the little girl would grow up and know love and marriage and have children. She would have a full life and know her grandchildren and great grandchildren.

In a moment I would wake and doubt would fill me with fear. These ego driven elite would fight me in a secret war of wits but in my dream I was a being of pure light. I would win all the battles but lose the war. If I could save only one child then whatever happen to me would be worth it.

Next on this post is the true story of my war of wits with the power elite of Kansas City Mo.
More to come....

I had made a vow to myself never to go back to Union Station Kansas City Missouri but I knew I had to break that vow if I was going to get the fountain removed. There were 17 dangerous exhibits beside the fountain and I knew it would be easier to get these exhibits removed before the three million dollar fountain. At the time my friend Richard Hirsch was still working at Union Station and he was feeding me information about what was going on.

Richard told me about a couple of artists running something new called Project InSECT.

"I'm not going to set foot in Union Station Richard, nothing good can come out of that place."

"You've got to see this Robert, the artist is painting a giant praying mantis and her partner is like magic to the children."

This was my reason to go back but how was I going to force Union Station Inc. to remove that fountain? I thought about Mike Smith a former manager of mine, telling me about two children falling through the fountain floor on two separate days. One of those children was taken to Children Mercy Hospital and given stitches in his leg from a nasty gash from falling through the fountain floor. Children and adults could enter the lower level of the fountain and the streams of water through the entrance would shut off as people walked into the center and start up again in a few seconds.

Children thought you could start and stop the water streams by stomping on the rubber mat floor but in truth all this did was shift the two tiny plastic blocks over that held the floor up. An electronic beam tripped the fountain jets.

I walked into Project InSECT on the parking level of Union Station in the old Nature's Critters storefront. It was pure magic! As a adult I seldom saw the soul colors around people but Jessa had a yellow glow with streaks of blue and James a blue green glow that turned yellow on the edges when he was around children. I told them both how great they were and how they would be world famous someday. They were a free exhibit and the children and the parents loved them. Science City was part of Union Station Kansas City and was a multimillion dollar exhibit space but it could not compete with two artists pulling themselves up by their bootstraps.

"Mommy, I don't want to go to Science City. I like it here."

I heard this hundreds of times and saw many of these children return in 20 minutes with their parents.

"They didn't like Science City and begged to come back here."

Said many a parent that returned with their children not only the same day but keep coming back. For a time I believed I was wrong about the fountain, after all it was only a dream. I was happy to be in the beautiful glow of Project InSECT.

Then the folks at Union Station got jealous and started playing dirty tricks on the folks at Project InSECT. Turning the lights on and advertising they would be at Union Station when they were at the Kansas City Zoo instead of Union Station just to name two things. Along the same time Phil Kline of U.S. Toy Magic shop fame asked me to help him work on a movie about corruption in Kansas City. After saying no a hundred times I said yes. A video camera was going to make that fountain go away.

In a town hall meeting where Turner White CEO of Union Station was explaining why new taxes were needed, I asked questions and choked when the CEO racked me over the fire of his superior intellect. The man was smarter than me but I had the truth on my side and the public turned against him. A few days later he resigned and left his office at midnight.

With Richard Hirsch I organized a protest against Union Station and with a little help from a local TV station most of the dangerous exhibit were removed.

Then I put the icing on the cake and found a honest man that talked to the bully billionaire of Kansas City and the fountain was removed after a couple years of face saving by the power elite.

I wish I could tell you this hero's name but I gave my word to keep his identity a secret until after his death.

More to come.....I was going to go into more detail in the hard truth part of this post but I felt the story would go on too long.

Well this is the wild speculation part of this post. I believe Union Station Kansas City Missouri is under a 200 year lease. My Grandmother English knew the owners of the property at one time.
As this is hear say, I have no proof. Perhaps my Grandmother was told a lie.

One of my bosses at Union Station, Mike Smith told me that Donald Hall owned Union Station.
When I asked him what he meant by that he said he couldn't say anything more except that my salary and all of Tech ops was paid by Donald Hall. Again all this is hear say and I have no proof.

The friend that introduced me to the honest man said the power elite wanted a hands off policy when it came to Union Station. Still hear say.

After I faced the CEO Turner White in a town hall meeting a man named Mark Funkhouser investigated Union Station for a year. He found no misdeeds at the old landmark and then became mayor of Kansas City. Did a billionaire with plans for Union Station help him become mayor? I don't know, just a thought.

This is my question; If you ask for States, Federal and Local taxpayers to pay to rebuild a landmark do you have the right to leave it to your family in the future? Of course this is all hear say and sometimes where there is smoke, no fire is to be found.

Next Post; Birthday Boy and the Coughing Game

The Icicle Compass

It was a cold February afternoon in a year I can't remember. My sons Mark and Micheal were in grade school but I can't remember the number of their ages. After the divorce my heart was shattered into a billion pieces and I tried to forget. I forgot the good along with the bad. I forgot so much and I forgot about the Icicle Compass.

The Icicle Compass was a piece of magic I conjured from my imagination in a moment of anger.
If my oldest son Mark hadn't reminded me of the Icicle Compass it would have been a lost story.

I parked the family station wagon in front of Noah's Pets.

" Come on boys lets go get your mother."

The three of us jumped out of the family transportation. We ran through the cold to the pet store. The three of us looked at her behind the counter.

"I'm sorry boys I have to work late."

"Come on mom. You could have told us before we left town."

"They just asked me. You know we need the money."

"What are we going to do now? Everything is closed because of the ice storm!"

I don't remember which boy asked what. I just remember being angry at her.

"Boys head out to the car. I'll be with you in a second."

As soon as my sons were outside the pet store I turned to Jackie.

"You could have said no."

"You know I couldn't do that."

I left the pet store full of anger. If made more money she could have said no. That's what she was saying.

I followed my sons out to the station wagon and slammed the door as I got in. My hands griped the steering wheel as my knuckles were turning white I felt like tearing the wheel off the column.

"What are we going to do Dad?"

Said one of my sons.

I was looking at my broken hood ornament when my son asked the question. For a couple of years when my sons were in grade school every punk's favorite crime in America was stealing hood ornaments. My hood ornament was protected by a spring loaded cable at the base but a more determined kind of punk twisted the shield design out of the center of ring of my Ford's hood art.

I then saw the giant icicles hanging off the fronts of stores in the Truman Corners strip mall.

"Have you boys ever heard of The Icicle Compass?"

"No dad, what's that?"

"I'll show you."

I got out of the station wagon and walked over to the largest icicle I could find.

I'll need a story to make this work. I can't remember what that story was.

I broke a five foot long icicle off and walked back to the family wagon. I shoved the icicle into the broken hood ornament. It balanced on the first try. Sometimes you get lucky.

I got back in the station wagon and told the kids the story. Now I'm going to tell you a story. It's not the story because that is lost to my memory but this story is true as it still comes from my heart.

"In the age of the Vikings when the Viking Kings were honor bond to do battle with the Ice Giants in the further most lands of the Viking Realm, Icicle Compasses were used to find the Ice Giants. Giant Icicles hung in metal rings from the front of great sleds the size of houses pulled by a hundred reindeer were driven by Viking children. Only the children of the Vikings could lead them to the magical gates hidden in the ice covered wastelands of the north. For only the Viking children had imaginations pure enough to find the Ice Giants."

My sons laughed.

"Now my fine sons it is up to you to drive this wagon of steel into the magical gate into the realm of the ice giants. For in another lifetime I was Viking Prince and now it is time to do battle with the Ice Giants once again for they have given us too harsh a winter!"

"Dad we can't drive, we're just kids."

" Are you not Knights of the Red Boot? You will do as your father bids you to do!"

Both my sons were laughing and looking at each other.

" Mark you are the oldest of my sons. Get thy self behind the wheel of this motorised chariot!"

I moved over in the front seat. Mark got in the driver's side and he got the station wagon going.

"See how the Icicle Compass moves in its magical ring. Just follow it and we will drive through the magical gate."

Mark followed the Icicle Compass in loops around the vast ice wastelands of the parking lot.
Soon the Icicle Compass became stuck and it was my youngest son Micheal's turn to follow the Icicle Compass.

"Dad, what if a policeman see me driving?"

"Don't worry, the Icicle Compass makes us invisible to the outside world. Now drive my son of great heart."

Both sons changed places many times that day following the Icicle Compass and they laughed with great joy but we never did find that magic gate or did we?

Next Post; Girl in a Fountain. A dark vision that changed the politics of a city.

Rewiring my Brain

I'm having trouble writing because I'm rewiring my brain.

I want my sense of smell back.

I want to be able to tell if its hot or cold.

I want to stop my left arm and the left side of my face from twitching when I'm tired.

I've been rewiring my brain for many years now. Years ago I thought I would lose my drivers license if the world knew how bad my mind was but then I found I could do things with my mind other people couldn't do. For everything I lost I was given gifts beyond all the riches of the world.

After my car wreak my immune system crashed and hundreds of warts appeared on my hands and feet. After gallons of wart remover I went to a hand surgeon to have the last 30 warts on my hands removed. The first visit I had my left taken care of and by the end of that visit I could feel the doctor cutting the warts out. I didn't feel pain but I could feel the knife. On the second visit I could feel the pain and the surgeon had to deaden my hand again. I didn't want to go through that again when all my warts came back.

My mother told about wart wishing. Rub the wart as hard as you can and forget about it. Don't look at your hand for a week. It's a mind trick but if you believe, it will work. I've also used prayer to make warts disappear and self hypnosis.

After the accident I began to see colors around living things again and could tell what kind of person someone was by their soul color. This became overwhelming to me as a adult just like it was to me as a small child. I have blocked this ability except when I'm going to date someone.
The last time I opened my mind to seeing the soul color the ability was completely gone.

The Broken Mirror Universe is what I call my vision after the car wreck. Imagine looking at the world in the reflection of a broken fun house mirror and you get some idea what seeing was like for me. After years of trying to fix my vision and being careful not to let anyone know how bad my sight was I read an article in a medical journal about how wearing blue glasses could fix vision distortion in people with head injuries. For six months I wore blue glasses and it worked.

I'm 50 years old and still don't wear glasses as I keep upgrading my software. A little trick I learned when I was trying to fix my vision distortion. I had arguments with many a doctor on what was possible to do with the human brain. Science has proved me correct and all those doctors that told me I was wrong to be wrong themselves.

"I growing new brain cells doctor. I can feel it."

"That's not possible. You're too old to grow new brain cells."

You can teach an old brain new tricks. I'm living proof of that.

My sense of smell is no better.

My sense of hot and cold is no better.

I have made progress on my face twitching. My left arm and left side of my face has stopped twitching but now I have a small twitch in my right arm. Still, I think this is progress.

The Party

I went to the Party to honor a great man. My two good friends of Project InSECT fame would meet me at the Party. Jessa and James were married at the Leedy- Voulkos Art Center in Kansas City and it was at the art center the Party for Jim Leedy's retirement was to be held.

Of course no artist ever really retires but Jim Leedy who I believe is the heart and soul of Kansas City Missouri is entering a new phase of his life. In his youth he ran with a pack of great artists, Jackson Pollack just to name one of the artist he knew. He was the first or one of the first to do abstract expressionism in ceramics.

I had a bad feeling about the Party and I felt along with all good energy for Jim Leedy their would be negative energy. I didn't understand the feeling and thought some that negative energy would be directed at me. I thought maybe a member of the Kemper family (a rich banking family in Kansas City) would be at the party. I had once got into a yelling match with Mike Kemper the boss of my boss at Science City at Union Station. The last thing I wanted was confrontation at Jim Leedy's Party.

I had nothing to worry about as the Party had no members of the so called upper class in attendance. Then James and Jessa showed up and I noticed one artist giving the artistic team of two a mean stare. As the night worn on I saw more and more artists giving the two friends of mine dirty looks. James and Jessa work outside the gallery system and are successful.

Maybe some people are just jealousy. I only know any, negative energy wasn't directed at me.
I took some pictures of James and Jessa with Jim Leedy and took the time to thank him for inviting me to his house years ago.

A nice party for a great man.

Echoes of Dreams

Echoes of dreams stay in my mind long after I wake from my slumber. Why does my mind work best between the twilight of dreams and the harsh painful reality of my broken mind?

For years I felt sorry for myself, oh I lied and told everyone how lucky I was but I longed for the paradise I tore myself from. This morning as I write this and the dreams still echo through my mind I feel paradise is in my heart. I feel peace has found me at last. I opened my heart and it was filled with kindness.

My mind feels empty and numb to the world and yet words roll off the tips of my fingers from the keypad to the screen. I know not what I'll write next and yet I feel compelled to write.

Between dream and reality is the same as between life and death. Imagination and our perception of reality compete for our attention. The dream fades from my mind but the peace stays in my heart. I won't let it go for I own a part of paradise now.

Tonight I will be in a room with people that love me and those that hate me. Part of me doesn't want to go to this event but I feel I must. I will be careful with each word and find a way to love everyone at the party.

We each have a role to play in life and I must not judge those who don't remember the boarder lands between life and death.

The Choice

It was beautiful and I could have stayed. I wanted children. I wanted grandchildren.

I wouldn't listen to the angels. Give up my ego for paradise, it wasn't for me for I loved the conflict.

I fell out of grace into hell. I fell through hell into the flesh I was born into. I would haunt that flesh till my second death.

The pain was greater than I could have imagined but it is now a good friend that tells me how great the world of the living is.

I am a coward than would rather run from any fight but I find myself in battles with only my imagination as a weapon. A weapon sharpened on dreams of universal justice.

What am I? A being of light trapped in a cocoon of carbon called a living human body or a fool entertained by his own delusions.

Will my ego destroy me or will I destroy my ego? I will be what I can and that is all I need to be.

I love this world and all the people in it. I love that I have the chance to make this world a better place. I love my enemies and will never fell hate or feel anger against them. I no longer pity them.

I only pity myself for playing their game. I know better. I've always known better.

I will tell the truth as long as I can.

The Cookie

My favorite thing to do for fun is to see my son Micheal and grand daughter Cordelia and go out to eat. This doesn't happen often enough for me but seeing three links in the chain of life that I'm part of always warms my heart. I just got payed for some video work and got an advance on building a very complex puppet. My son took pity on my long term finances and took me to a cheap Chinese Restaurant. The meal would be under twenty dollars and my granddaughter loves rice and noodles.

The waitresses worried that Dad and Grandpa didn't know how to take care of the beautiful baby girl and keep coming to our table to make sure we keep Cordelia clean. When the meal was done I carried Cordelia back to the car. I set her in her car seat and buckled her in. When ever I can I sit in the back seat with Cordelia and play Peek-a-Boo or our new game, Where's Grandpa's Hat.

I had two Chinese Fortune Cookies in my shirt pocket and I took them out to lay by the car seat.
Cordelia saw the cookies and began to scream.

"Sweetheart, these are hard sugar cookies. You won't like these cookies."

Cordelia didn't listen to grandpa and demanded I give her a cookie in a language all her own.

"Here's half of one cookie but you won't like it."

Cordelia grabbed the cookie from my hand and began to work on it with her six teeth. In a few moments the cookie was gone.

"Mike, I know now why you nicked named her the Cookie Monster."

My son Micheal laughed as he drove us back to his house.

How does your Imagination Garden Grow?

What is imagination? A chemical reaction to the food we eat or a spiritual journey to the core of the soul. Is playing in the negative imagination a release valve for our pent up aggressions or the beginning of real life criminal activity?

I am a imagination worshiper. I worship the universal intelligent by creative acts. I don't believe in telling anyone how to worship as we all live under cultural truths. This is simply what works for me. There is nothing better than to bring joy into the world with your creativity.

What happens when our imaginations are used as a celebration of evil? Harmless fun or a road to hell when viewed by other minds? I liked the movie The Road Warrior starring Mel Gibson but it spawned a real civil war in Liberia the failed West African colony of the United States founded by freed slaves. Trucks were turned into Road Warrior style assault vehicles and the warring factions wore costumes in the style of the movie. In front of the American Embassy real life crimes against humanity was played out.

Stephen King's first novel Rage inspired all the school shootings that followed. I believe artists do have a responsibility for their art. I don't how far that responsibility should go or if we should censor art in any way but we should be careful what we create.

I have hurt people with my art and have caused great emotional pain with the fruit of my imagination. I have learned better.

What of truth? How much of our truth is bound by our imagination? Do I have the right to speak or write the truth as I believe it to be? My Museum Tales are about Science City, Union Station Kansas City Missouri and from now on I will be using real names and the full names of the people in the story. I did not want to do this but when you try to steal my freedom of speech from me, you leave me no choice.

I am not scared of elitist cowards that live off their grandparent's wealth and have never known an honest days work in their life. Use your imaginations and not your power and wealth.

How does my Imagination Garden grow? Not very well right now. This blog is my Imagination Garden and my writing is weak and my ego needs weeding but I'm trying to do better.

Letting Go

Donald Hall of Hallmark fame has my pity.

I forgive you and all your cow-town friends.

It's time to ride the dream and put away childish toys.

How to Steal the Future

I'm angry and I'm writing from anger. To the powers that be in the city of my birth, If you find anything in this blog that is criminal then you should sue me! I believe what I'm writing is the truth and if it isn't then you should correct me.

What you shouldn't do is hack my computer or flag my posts in a sad attempt to censor me.
Lets get this all out into the light of day. I didn't want to get caught up in your cow-town politics but I saw children being hurt by the arrogance of the rich and powerful so I worked on a movie called Begging for Billionaires. I shot footage from a plane of that city I use to love days before 9-11. A city you ripped the heart and soul out by killing all the mom and pop businesses downtown.

I lost all my money, I lost my health and most of my friends and if I had to do it over, I wouldn't change a thing. You know why? Because I didn't sell my soul. Some of you people in that counterfeit town of Kansas City Missouri should try not selling your soul.

Is there a landmark in Kansas City Missouri that has a 200 year lease on the property it is on?

Is this part of a legacy crime?

Why was so much of the Historical Documents of Kansas City Missouri given over to a private firm?

Why ask why?

Because its wrong to steal from the future.

Donald, Mark, Mary, Mike, Kay and Dean, you all know what you are.

Thanks Charles for being the only stand up politician I ever meet.

To The Person Hacking My Computer

You need to grow up. I can always start another blog on another computer and the truth of your little world will come out with or without me. Three people other than myself are working on books that will name the crimes you and your pitiful friends have commented as you scam taxpayers out of vast sums of money. Legacy Crimes will be harder to comment in the next century, don't you think Paper King? What do you care you'll be dead but of course then their is that legacy of yours.
I play the long game and I'll be long dead so do you really want to keep picking on me?

What will people think of you in the future? What will be discovered about you in the year 2114?

I post this in the morning and before the end of the day all my computer problems went away.
I've lost count how many times this has happened before. I'm not writing these stories to out anyone. Other people with better records are doing that. I know who the hacker is.

His initials are M.S. and he should remember all criminals are cowards even ones that hide behind badges.

Doorknobs and Romance

I have been in love three times this year with three different women. How silly is that?

The first woman liked to yell at me. I don't like to be yelled at.

The second woman wanted to talk all the time and tell me what to do. I like to talk too but sometimes its good to be quiet. I don't want to tell anyone what to do.

The woman I'm dating now. I just fell in love. I didn't know how lonely I was. I didn't know I would meet someone who was tore from paradise as I was. I never had anyone to talk about all the weird things that happened to me after the car wreck. I just kept most of it inside and people would get mad at me when I couldn't remember things and call me stupid or retarded. She understands all this. When I saw visions of the future and tried to warn people they wouldn't listen or just say I was crazy.

She has been in that place between life and death as I was. I was there two hours and she was there two years. I love her as a friend and that is enough for now.

I've decided to tell the truth about the first date and the huge mistake I made. I don't have a sense of smell. I lost most of my sense of smell in my car wreak and the rest in the operation to repair my nose. I smell with the back of my throat. I hadn't been on a date all summer and I truly wanted to make a good impression on this first date.

I was told she liked everything about me except one thing. I smelled bad. I have apologized but the thing I hate most about this is I've been lying to people for years about being able to smell with my nose. When people ask me to smell something I pretend to sniff with my nose and slightly open my mouth and suck the air to the back of my throat. I then guess what the smell is.

Well that's half the equation of my Pepe LaPue date. I can't regulate my body temperature. I don't know if its hot or could most of the time. When I do sweat it all comes out my feet and it stinks in a way like no other.

The date began with us looking at her doorknob collection and we went to a museum with a huge doorknob collection. I use to collect doorknobs and we seemed to both have a quirky fun time.

I've decided to save some of the funny quirky details for a novel.

The Big Plan

Heaven help me. Hell fear me.

With that simple prayer the Imagination Peace begins.

To the cowards of a thousand stolen dreams your time is coming to an end. Your weapons are money, power and lies. Toothpicks against swords of Imagination, Love and Truth.

Your stolen dreams burn in bonfires fueled by ugly fat egos. I've decided to wage peace on the world. Everyone wants a quiet war they can ignore but I can't ignore these wars anymore.

Darfur is a mess that no one wants to do anything about. The world won't go to war to stop the holocaust and words of protest have no meaning to evil bullies that murder and torture.

We need to allow mass immigration of of sub-Shara Africans to the United States from the Sudan. Its the only rational solution.

The Evil Empire part two has rolled their tanks into another country but I believe this is a back room deal to allow the fallen empire of old to save face. All we can do is try to find out the truth in a vortex of government and media lies.

The Corporate Hive Mind grows each day and the Imagination of the world grows smaller.
I would like to see the end of the Corporate, Communist, Fascist mind set and see a family capitalist free thinking world. If you don't know that capitalism and the corporate are two different things let me enlighten you. The Corporate is an imaginary construction with the rights of a living human being that is a shield of lies to protect neo-aristocrats from legal action.

My Big Plan is as follows. To try to be more truthful everyday and expand my imagination beyond any boarders. To put it simply I want to be the Johnny Appleseed of Imagination.

Anti-Imagination

I only used it once and it was pure evil.

I worked at a evil place that had an evil contest to name an evil machine that taught children nothing. I decided to enter the contest using the most evil thing I owned.
In my mind I unwrapped the evil stupid called Anti-Imagination.

"Robert are you entering the contest?"

Said a fellow Tech Ops co-worker.

"Yes I am and there is no point to the rest of you entering this contest for I'm going to win it."

"So your name for the exhibit is that good?"

"No, its the worst possible name I could come up with."

The Water Exhibit was on the second floor of the science museum. It was the size of a pool table and the water ran down at a angle in this open box exhibit. A pump recycled the water from bottom to top. At the top pool of water the children could take plastic squares of plastic and place the dividers into grooves to create channels of water. The children then floated little boats down the exhibit.

"You're joking Robert. You have a great imagination."

"I'm not using my Imagination. I'm using Anti-Imagination.
I'm naming the exhibit the Water Maze."

All the Exhibit Techs looked at me as if I was insane. A few at the morning meeting laughed.

"Robert that's the lamest name, you can't summit that. You're known for having a great imagination."

"We live in the age of the No-Talents and great imaginations are out of step with the times.
You'll see I'm right when I win."

The three headed monster came into the meeting room. I'd like to say our three managers were named Larry, Moe and Curly but our managers weren't that smart. We all handed our contest entries in. No one told the three headed monster about my little joke on upper management.

It was time to put the icing on the cake on this over the top practical joke. I made an excuse to go talk to someone in upper management. I told a person in management my name for the exhibit making sure it was over heard by many in the office. I knew I would have a tie with someone in management then.

The day came to name the winner of the contest.

"We have a tie as two entries were the same name!"

Said the Corporate Cow-town Clown.

I can't remember the name of the manager that tied with me but I do remember how loud and long all people in my department laughed. The management looked shocked but I didn't laugh.
I didn't smile and I wasn't happy for I wanted to be wrong. How far has the world fallen?

The management had a meeting about my little joke and they decided never to put the name Water Maze on the exhibit. I had made them look like fools but I had only reduced myself to their level. Perhaps I was even worst than they were because I had an imagination and chose not to use it.

Within the magic of my own mind I wrapped the Stupid Evil that was Anti-Imagination and threw it into the super nova of my mind's eye. It burned into the nothing of wasted thoughts and I vowed never to recreate the stuff of evil again.

Too many people were using Anti- Imagination and I couldn't be one of them.

Procrastination

Fear of failing or just plain laziness, I am a world class procrastinator. Its time I finish the big projects. I must push myself as hard as I can to fight the greatest of all of my sins.

I will not be a procrastinator.

I will have one final battle with my empire of junk.

I will finish my storybook.

I will finish my novel.

I will finish my graphic novel.

When?

My storybook by the end of this month.

My graphic novel by October 31st of this year.

My novel by the end of the year.

I can do this but why haven't I done it before now?

I don't know, I'll think about that tomorrow.

Slow Time and the Double Flip Comic Book Trick

On a cold icy morning in February 1975 I drove my Mustang to the family farm.
A teenage girl with two horses needed bedding straw and I was elected by the family to throw down the bails of straw from the barn loft to her parents.

The old barn was huge. The loft was two stories above the ground and ladder was beginning to rot. When you got to the loft you had to be careful where you stepped or you would fall through the rotting floor. I threw the first bail out as the family pulled up into the feed lot in front of the barn. The blond teen age girl got out of the pick-up trunk with her mom and dad.

"She's cute and I didn't want to come out here this morning."

I said to myself as I pitched another bail out the loft.

"What can I say to her? I'll do or say something stupid. I always do when it comes to pretty
girls."

I stopped talking to myself and kept pitching bails out the loft. I'm a idiot! What if she heard me talking to myself?

Number 15, the last square bail of straw. I'll give it a good pitch to show how strong I am.
Like the dumb teenage boy I was, I ran out onto the ice cover floor and gave the bail the best pitch I could. I slid right out the barn behind the bail of straw.

I grabbed the hoist beam sticking out of the loft but it was covered in ice and I keep on going.
I threw my legs up to lock them around the beam and at the same time tried to squeeze my two hands around the icy beam. I was too late with my legs and my hands sounded like I snapped my fingers as I flew off the end of the beam. My butt was pointing skyward and I was looking down at a three stories worth of fall as I was higher than the barn in the air.

Time slowed down coming almost to a stop. Daredevil comic book. I'll do a double flip and land on one foot just like Daredevil. Time speed back to normal. Do or die dummy, I thought to myself as I did a double flip and landed on one foot.

It was impossible but it had happen. By dumb luck or flight of angels I landed on ice from a three story drop on one foot in slick leather shoes. I had landed ten feet in front of the beautiful blond haired blue eyed girl. I stood up walked over to her with my hand out stretched towards her.

"Hi, my name is Robert."

She took my hand in a gentle handshake.

"Hi, I'm Tammy."

I took her to my prom that spring.

Today I heard a story about Tammy's parents reaction to my barn fall. My mother said she got a call later that day about how I fell out of the barn and it looked like I was going to break my neck but I somehow did the impossible and landed on one foot on the ice. I always wondered if Tammy and her parents thought I did it as a stunt but I now know my double somersault didn't look as good as it did in the comic book.

Expanding Time

Work while you dream and dream while you work.

Heard of that ancient form of recording called an eight track tape? Everyone has a eight track mind. Think of all the things you can do at the same time, walking and chewing gum just too name two.

Imagine the creative mind is currents of imagination in an ocean of dreams. You don't need drugs to see the currents. You don't need to stave yourself to find that place or go without sleep to know a fragment of the infinite. You just open your mind to the imaginary and leave the known behind.

My mind is a three ring circus, the artist, the writer and the blur between the two. Every waking moment I'm thinking about how I'm going to do my corner of the impossible.

"Robert you never finish anything."

Not true and I have posts to prove it.

"Robert that project too big and you'll never perfect it."

I have no desire to perfect anything as I don't believe in perfect.

"Robert you should work on our project and forget your unrealistic project."

Sorry I don't work for free and tearing down someones dream to build your own is a ugly thing to do.

By just saying no to artistic parasites you can expand your time.

Then there is the magical imagination way of expanding time.
Edit reality by putting what troubles you into the negative zone. Sometimes I'm very depressed and I put my troubles into the negative zone and lock them away for ten billion years. I force myself to write or do artwork and pretend to be happy and sometimes I forget I'm depressed and can't even remember what I locked away for ten billion years.

Multiple thinking is a way I work on at least three projects at any one time. As I'm writing this posts I'm thinking about three other projects. My grandfather tales children book, My fantasy novel and a Science Fiction Graphic Novel. Then there is sign post projects that I think about only for a short time when other projects spark a new concept.

When I do work on a project it is a fast process because I've done the hard work in my mind.

She's a Walker

Yesterday my little Queen of Dreams was 11 months old and she began to show off her walking skills. Having a grand daughter is the most wonderful thing in the world, only to be equaled by having a grand son (I'm not leaving you out Denver).

The day started out with seeing my friends and my favorite artists James and Jessa of Project Insect fame. I helped them unload some of their large paintings and just hung out for a while at Powell Gardens, Festival of Butterflies near my hometown of Kingsville.

I then headed up to see my Son and Grand Daughter in Independence Mo. I wasn't at my son's house more than ten minutes when Cordelia began standing on her own and walking everywhere in the house. I had seen her stand and take a few steps but this was my little sweetheart crossing into her toddler stage. When her mother came home she began to really show off.

After she walked to her mother several times she even walked to her grandfather. I hadn't seen Cordelia in weeks because of my bout with the flu and was afraid Cordelia wouldn't remember me but she couldn't have been sweeter to her grandfather. Letting me carry her around in the store when her parents and I went shopping, giving me hugs and playing a world class game of peek a boo.

Later after we got back to the house her grandmother Rosie came over and I meet Patty Maimer a friend of Rosie. Both Patty and I have a love for history, museums and quirky small town road trips so I got her phone number.

As close to a perfect day as I've had in a long time.

Starbirds and Friends

Random Photos and a Letter

The last photo of my father with his mother before her death. My cousin Martha Ann stands behind them.

Photo of Artworld in Kansas City Missouri. I loved selling art supplies there.

Snake and his girlfriend Lona McGee. Lona was the first friend I knew that was born in another country.


Letter from my Ex explaining the random nature of these photos.

Imagination Center Three

The alien garden is growing with each plant created by a different artist. The garden is viewed through narrow plastic windows by the public. Aliens, humans in space suits and robots plant the garden.

Wastelands of Eden

I was dreaming. The past and future were mixed with the present. I was a political hack working for FDR. I was deep underground in a bunker that was built for a reason I didn't understand.
The chambers of the underground complex were coded in symbolic paintings.
The Tree of Life painting was correct as it was a pear tree but they had the Tree of Knowledge all wrong.

I woke up but why was the Tree of Knowledge wrong? I rolled over and fell back asleep finding the dream again but I had fell into another lifetime deep in my trail of lives.

I was a caveman in the great ice age and I stood with my tribe on a mountain overlooking the Eden Valley. How could anything be so green? Then I was in front of the two holy trees on the mouth of the twin rivers. I ate from the Tree of Life with my tribe but the tall ones kept us from the crimson fruit of the giant tree. The twisting red fruit was fourteen hands long and as thick a man's leg. We watched another tribe eat the sweet fruit and they all died in their sleep.

I woke for a moment and fell into the dream as my head slammed against the steering wheel of my 1969 Mustang. I was in heaven and I cast myself out and fell with a shard of imagination.

I was a member of the tribe that ate the crimson fruit but it was the 1940's not the great ice age.

The future called me and I lived in a green pyramid and ate the crimson fruit for dinner.

I awoke from my dream for final time this day and my heart ached. War was the crimson fruit.

Mission to Mars

We are going to Mars. We must go as the world. Russia, USA and China should pay for 60% of the human mission to the red planet. The remaining 40% should be paid by the rest of the world.

Three men and three woman would make up the crew. Two Russians, two Americans and two Chinese. Married couples to give balance to a long journey.

Imagine the United Nations flag in the thin breeze of a Mars dawn.

Citizen of Earth

I am a Citizen of Earth. I am owned by no imaginary construct called a nation. I do not bow down before false idols built of words. I am no better than any other citizen and I am no less.

You can not rule over me by birth right made by a system of bribery. You can only be a equal if you have the courage to turn your back to the lust of power. You must open your heart to those that hate you to find the only true power.

I will not play games while one child knows pain. The web of lies can not trap me for I have seen the truth in the next generations eyes. I will fight for the future with words while others use war.
I will never forget but I'll find a way to forgive. I will love you even if you hate me.

I will give my pity freely to those that steal life, land and liberty. Imaginations so shallow that they can not see the greed they plant or the bitter fruit it will bear someday.

We are Citizens of Earth. We can do better.