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Path whispers secrets,
In the forest's silent embrace,
Nature's timeless trace.
--Title and Haiku by Grok 2
Under a big blue Oklahoma sky, five-year-old Tsisana high-stepped in his tiny moccasins, his beads and feathers catching the eyes of the crowd as the drums thumped like a loud Kiowa heartbeat across the pow wow grounds.
Dust swirled around him, kicked up by dancers in festive regalia—feathers flashing, bells jangling. His mother, Elina, who kept a close eye on him, knelt beside her son, and with gentle hands adjusted the small beaded vest his grandmother had made, its red, white and blue patterns glinting with every movement.
“Listen, little one,” she whispered, pointing to the circle where the men danced, their steps strong and sure. “That’s the spirit of our people.”
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AI image created with Elon Musk's Grok. Characters and events are fictional.
Theme: Legends Never Die - The Dark Side of the Moon
The Martian background with the two moons and silhouette of the jet fighter were generated with prompts to Grok.
Cropped in images initially came from this piece that was done in Paint(dot)Net 10 years ago:
www.flickr.com/photos/iohannesii/14238639961/in/dateposted/
All photo editing done in Krita.
Makhis was never satisfied, though, with the victories of their defensive measures as part of the Pakeret Mehuetey – the Northern Frontier Patrol. Sure, the missions were always exciting. Who wouldn't find flying some of the best apeyew (aircraft) of the Noble Guard, or using the latest and greatest military gadgetry, and going on covert, clandestine missions as being in some ways exhilarating? Certainly, to share this adrenaline rush with friends that were equally enthused about these sorts of operations was a great bonus. - Except from 'Harmakhis', Ch 7, by John A. Crawford (YouTube, X, facebook, Wix)
It's not that I expected one day to be Euerey Pedjet Aeshey. What is that? It's something like troop commander or captain pilot, but we just shorten it to EPA. But, anyways, I guess I expected Hondo to become the EPA of the pedjet aeshew, that is, the squadron. He became Iemey Eren Eherew Aeshey, which is the rear guard, or sentry position. We shorten this to IEEA. It's a very imporant position, and Hondo has saved my rear on numerous occasions, both in the skies and on land.
For our left wing, or Demat Iahebey, which we shorten to DI, is Chigaru, who we nicknamed as Ayenepewetey Mehuew, or Anubian Hunter. He's the best tracker we got, not to mention able to make things work when we need them to. The best example I can give is when he had to rig a vehicle so we could get out of an enemy camp before one of Hondo's explosives blew everything sky high.
And this lioness to the right of me, Nailah, well, she's always to the right of me. She takes her role as Demat Weret, or Right Wing seriously - which is, as you may have guessed, shortened to DW. She's also our pedjet aeshew, our medic.
What squadron are we? We're the Jahi Gahiji Minkha, which, of course, is shortened to JGM. Yes, we're that JGM, also known by your native tongue as Dignified Hunters of Justice. We are feared by the Nirgalians that have had the misfortune to meet us out on the grid while out doing our duty as Pakeret Mehuetey, that is the Northern Frontier Patrol.
When we hear the call over the coms, “Api biaet! Aehuem djebetew aedew!” We are indeed ready to fly into the heavens and to destroy the enemy targets. The usual ayew aehet, or 'dog swoop,' which I believe you call a dog fight in your tongue, was a four on four battle in the sky. In all modesty, to say the JGM is the best of the best might still be considered modest. That we've managed to survive and win the majority of our battles, that have resulted in the numerous Bik Dematet, the falcon wings of victory, those answer for us.
But, certainly, we've had our losses. The most memorable was to the enemy's recent weapon, an apeyaed, or flying mech. Though the theory of what was done was sound strategy, we we were not dealing with any ordinary apeyaed. This one was much more agile and had weaponry that out-matched our own. If it wasn't for the safety system kicking in the escape teleport, I wouldn't be here today to tell you this. It sent me into a bit of shell shock, but I'm getting better. Soon,the JGM will have flying mechs of our own, with new weaponry that ought to help us take down this new threat and send the enemy to Duat.
***
The darkness was unbearable. It was like nothing that Makhis had ever experienced. He wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. There was nothing to indicate one way or the other. All he could see was the darkness – if you could call that seeing anything at all.
“Makhis.”
He heard his name, but he couldn't make out the voice. It came at first in a rasping whisper.
“Makhis.”
He heard again. The voice became recognizable as that of a girl. It drew curiosity since it sounded so familiar.
“Makhis, why are you here?”
“Khatie?” he asked, trying to look in the direction of where the voice had come from. But yet, in the darkness, there was no way to gain any bearing on direction. The call of the voice was directed at him, but it seemed to come from everywhere, or nowhere in particular, all at the same time. Was it internal? Was it external? Could it be both? He couldn't tell.
The voice didn't answer one way or the other, but instead continued to call out his name. “Makhis, why are you here?”
“Khatie, Sister?” he asked again, “Why am I here? Wait, what are you doing here... and, where is 'here'?”
“Why are you here Makhis?” responded the supposed Khatie,
“You shouldn't be here.”
“But where are we?” Makhis asked, “Why shouldn't I be here? What's going on Sis?”
“You shouldn't be here,” the alleged voice of Khatie answered again.
“Why Sis?” Makhis asked, “Why shouldn't I be here?”
“Because,” she who might be Khatie replied, “If you stay, I will have to kill you.”
Except from 'Harmakhis', Ch 8, by John A. Crawford (YouTube, X, facebook, Wix)
On a frigid winter night in 1846, the San Rafael Mission Church stood solemnly against the snow-dusted mountains of northern New Spain near the village of Taos. Its thick adobe walls, fashioned in the Spanish colonial style, glowed faintly under the silvery light of a full moon. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of piñon smoke from nearby homes in the tiny village, and a thin blanket of snow crunched underfoot as Father Ignacio, a Jesuit priest, walked outside to view the full moon.
Father Ignacio had arrived at this mission church only months before, after Pueblo people murdered the previous priest. He was sent to minister to the Pueblo people and the growing number of settlers in this remote outpost of New Spain’s fading empire. The church, with its adobe walls and simple wooden cross atop the bell tower, was a beacon of faith amid the rugged landscape. Tonight, he prepared for a midnight mass, a tradition he’d brought from his days in Mexico City. There was talk that his community would become a part of the U.S., and the people were divided over the issue. He hoped to unite his parishioners through his church.
As the moon climbed higher, bathing the church in a pale glow, Father Ignacio felt a fleeting peace. Here, in this humble sanctuary, far from the revolutions stirring Mexico and the encroaching American frontier, he pondered his past and future. On this cold, snowy night in 1846, he prayed his church and people could survive a pending revolution.
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AI image created with Elon Musk's Grok. Church is fictional, but resembles the famous San Francisco de Asis church in Rancho de Taos and true historical events.
There's a whole lot of wrong in this image, not sure how this all happened.
The tripod is not level. I thought I checked it but no.
This is the 19mm f/4 PC-E, and its prolly shifted, and may be tilted.
I am trying to grok how to adjust the perspective on the lens, then use the gimbal to swing the rig around, using the regular single row panorama technique, trying to set the lens entrance pupil.
I have seen Sooty Shearwaters during migration for many years. The thing is, birds are small and Shearwaters are normally pretty far out and I never used to carry binoculars, so...yes I could tell I was seeing something pretty awesome, but now, being more interested in birds I wanted to see them closer and grok why they are called "Shearwaters"! It does become obvious. Not so much in this photo which is meant to depict a small section of their bird super highway. Just close enough to get an idea of what is going on out there too far to see well with the naked eye!
Teasing you with a little foot feast... Imagine my sole hovering right above your face — which 'delicacy' would you crave to savor first? Vote below (or comment your wildest pick)
Barefoot bliss (pristine and teasing)
Whipped cream dream (sweet and sticky)
Chocolate indulgence (melty temptation)
Honeyed heaven (dripping sweetness)
P.S. This collage whipped up by grok - the xAI wizard turning my soles into your wildest (messy) dreams. Magic or mischief? You decide!
P.S. This collage whipped up by grok - the xAI wizard turning my soles into your wildest (messy) dreams. Magic or mischief? You decide!
Under a sky smeared with stars, Chief Tahoma sat beside the crackling campfire, the flames casting shadows that danced across his eagle feather war bonnet. Each feather, earned through acts of courage and wisdom, swayed gently in the cool night breeze.
His weathered hands rested on his knees as he gazed into the fire, the amber glow reflecting in his deep-set eyes. The scent of burning cedar mingled with the earthy aroma of the plains, a land his people had roamed for generations. Around him, the tranquility of the night was broken only by the distant howl of a coyote, a reminder of the wild spirit beyond the flickering light. Tahoma’s thoughts drifted to the stories of his ancestors, their voices carried in the smoke that curled upward, weaving tales of his people into the vast Oklahoma sky.
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AI image created with Elon Musk's Grok, imported to PS and starry sky added.
AFAR, Caleesi Remix - I'm Bad
www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4zf60baYjg&list=RDs4zf60baYj...
AI Grok edited this old SL pic:
www.flickr.com/photos/snissia/53345537829/in/dateposted-p...
Admit that we can’t wait until this is the everyday normal in avatar movements.
Thanks, Stark, for the inspiration! ❤️
www.flickr.com/photos/202883608@N08/54930581314/in/datepo...
Digital Art
A direct path for the mature seeker
1
"Only isness has isness_obviously.
Therefore; Only isness is.
Therefore; Only isness exists.
Anything else lacks
Real being and is not as real
as it appears to be."
2
"Anything you imagine to exist
"out there" does not truly exist in
its own right because only isness
actually is. All form is but an
empty projection and assumption
of the mind. Like a rainbow;
it appears to be there yet it has no
real existence outside the
perceiver."
3
"All illusion is a play enabled by
the underlying power of that
which truly is, and created by your
imagination and belief that a thing
has its own existence when in
reality it does not_ for only isness
has actual being. And isness is not
"this or that perception."Isness is
isness alone. A formless, endless
mystery of timeless sentience.
4
"That which truly is, is God.
And God is your true Self. It must
be so; for if God_isness_is all that
truly is, and since you know for a
fact that you are, then your own
existence must that-which-is.
Hence your being is inseparable
from the beingness of God
5
"This you is Being without
distortion, imagination,
association or alteration. Naked,
conditionless Being. The rest is but
a ghost-like projection resulting
from your forgetfulness of that
basic Self. Ignorance is the result of
ignoring true isness."
6
"This grand illusion of experiences
is not right or wrong, in fact it is
perfect since its true nature must
be God; but to imagine that any
perception has an independent,
separate existence is delusion and
the cause of all sorrows. The
Oneness discovered deep in that
pure isness is the ultimate solution
to all perceived problems."
7
"Follow this logic to its
experimental end, which is the
all-pervasive here and now as it
truly is, with full-hearted attention
_practice it_ and your soul's
eternal seeking shall find
fulfilment in its very own Self
After all. Self-Abidance results."
8
"This liberating logic is not for the
drama-queens and narcissists who
strongly identify themselves with
a body, its insecurity-bound
personhood and set of
circumstances. Freedom is not for
those who like to complain"
9
"Liberation requires a mature
desire and profound intelligence,
which equals a strong attention
span, an ability to grok and
persevere in the subtle, and an
ability to maintain a certain degree
of silence of self. You need to
suspend the flaring up of the
personal self long enough
to awaken to this deeper truth
Pause yourself to know yourself."
10
"With earnest practice you will
become rapidly more intelligent.
Your readiness to see reality right
through the illusion shall increase
with your daily commitment to be
one with that naked issness beneath
the ceaseless movements of your
imagination."
Bentinho Massaro
Common Saints - Activate
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LFwAmW-xwU&list=RD9LFwAmW-xw...
AI Grok edited this old SL pic:
www.flickr.com/photos/snissia/54910124161/in/dateposted-p...
Admit that we can’t wait until this is the everyday normal in avatar movements.
Thanks, Stark, for the inspiration! ❤️
www.flickr.com/photos/202883608@N08/54930581314/in/datepo...
Some of you might think I’m a bit of a nerd with how I decorate some of my photos with scientific explanations, but you really have no idea. To really “grok” my geekness, there’s only one thing you really need to know: I still play D&D with guys I've known since high school.
Funniest d&d song evah: www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgOB7VWjlSQ
Snow fell in soft whispers tonight, the kind that hushes the whole world, an old Cheyenne chief sits beside his grandson near the fire, their silhouettes glowing against the winter dark. The chief’s voice was low and steady, carrying stories older than the land around them—tales of buffalo hunts, star paths, and the strength that comes from honoring the earth.
The boy leaned in, wide‑eyed, soaking up every word as if they were embers drifting into his heart. Every so often, the chief would pause, smile, and place a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, as if passing something sacred and unseen.
Out there in the quiet snow, it felt like time slowed just to listen. A legacy was being handed down—not through grand speeches, but through presence, warmth, and the simple magic of a winter night.
____________
Video created by author using Elon Musk's Grok. Story is fiction.
Long before Jesus was born and Oklahoma existed, the Clovis people represented one of the earliest widely recognized cultures in North America, flourishing roughly 13,050–12,750 years ago. Named for the archeological site at Blackwater Draw near Clovis, New Mexico, they are best known for their distinctive fluted spear points—large, lance‑shaped tools crafted with remarkable skill and used for hunting mammoths and other Ice Age megafauna. Their mobility and adaptability allowed them to spread widely, and Clovis sites have been found across the continent.
Oklahoma holds an important place in this story. Archaeological evidence shows that early hunting peoples—including those of the Clovis tradition—were present in what is now Oklahoma by around 9500 BCE. Sites such as Burnham in northwestern Oklahoma have yielded Clovis and even possible pre‑Clovis artifacts, offering insight into how these early people moved across the plains, hunted, and adapted to changing climates. Their presence marks the beginning of a deep human history in our region, long before later cultures like the Folsom, Wichita, or Caddoan peoples emerged.
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Image created by author with Elon Musk's Grok. The Clovis people are holding a mammoth roast. It must have been a time of celebration when they brought down prey like a mammoth or a giant bison. Press L, this image is small.
Salt Lake City, Utah
This is for Silus Grok, kriste's room without the "weird square aspect ratio". =)
On a cool autumn night, a group of Native American elders gathered around a roaring campfire, its flames licking the darkness and sending sparks spiraling into the heavens. The air was thick with smoke and sage, a sacred perfume that clung to their woven braids and clothing.
Elder Matoka, her silver hair glinting like moonlight, traced patterns in the dirt with a stick, her voice low and steady as she recounted the tale of the first buffalo. Beside her, Old Man Tsotigh, his face a map of lines etched by time, nodded solemnly, his gnarled hands cradling a pipe that sent tendrils of smoke curling toward the stars.
The others—Lena with her sharp eyes, and Tsinquaw with his quiet strength—listened, their breaths visible in the cool air, each adding a thread to the tapestry of stories. Above, the dark OKlahoma sky cradled the circle below, where wisdom flowed as freely as the wind rustling the nearby cottonwoods. The fire popped, and in its glow, the elders’ faces shone with the weight of memory and the promise of continuity, a bridge between the earth and the endless sky.
_____________________
AI image created with Elon Musk's Grok and enhanced with PS.