I Have Put The Bullseyes At The Top Of The Peak, Where They Belong In The Spiritual Sense.  They Are Indeed The Target Zone For Me, The Spiritual Target Being My Focus At This Point In Life, Not The Things Below.

Putting the Bulls eyes on the Forget Me Not Chapel

The Bullseye is a target we refer to when we are shooting arrows, guns, or darts. It is the target that we focus on when we need to test our accuracy, our focus, and our strengths…. or weakness as it may be. For me, the Forget Me Not Chapel has been used for many metaphors this last week or so, but it truly is a reminder of my son Adam who’s birthday is but a couple weeks away, though he is no longer here, and reminds me daily of the work that I have yet to do for those who need help in this world in order to have a safe place to sleep, to hold their family out of the storm in the arms of Love, and to feel secure in the darkness.

I have put the bullseyes at the top of the peak, where they belong in the spiritual sense.  They are indeed the target zone for me, the spiritual target being my focus at this point in life, not the things below.

I have put the bullseyes at the top of the peak, where they belong in the spiritual sense. They are indeed the target zone for me, the spiritual target being my focus at this point in life, not the things below.

As I have been challenged by the breadth of my vision and dreams to do more, to leave behind a path that will give all these things to the millions who need it, I am humbled by how many have shown their support and told me of their stories, of their successes based on the lessons I have tried to offer about how to build with toxin free, sustainable, and if you go get them, nearly free materials.

Still I have fallen far short of my goals as I had hoped millions would be benefitting by now, that I would be copied without measure across the country and the opportunities for others would abound. Sadly, I have failed to meet my expectations in spite of pouring the millions of dollars I have made in my life for the good things I was able to do in my 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s.

In the bigger view, the door to opportunities requires that we pass through to get to the place where we can focus for a bit in peace, to worship if you will, the things that are important, and there is not much fancy within to distract one.

In the bigger view, the door to opportunities requires that we pass through to get to the place where we can focus for a bit in peace, to worship if you will, the things that are important, and there is not much fancy within to distract one.

There was a time when I was young that I never imagined getting this old, and if I did, I would not be worth much to society, for that is the way our society treats old people. Well here I am coming up on sixty in a bit more than a month and I am not ready to quit, but certainly humbled by having failed for the first time in my life to knock the ball out of the park, at least in my mind. I have added the paint to the outside, to dress up the Forget Me Not Chapel so that it will be attractive to others, to make them want to enter, to think, to believe, to change their path and wander this direction. Soon, if a very sweet woman named Spike is able to pull off a kickstarter campaign, with the help of friends, this chapel will leave and be dedicated to weddings on weekends and meditation, therapy for those suffering trauma, like losing the life of a child. I hope she succeed rather than to see it go out to a rich mans ranch somewhere to be used as a toy, a theater, or simply another trophy in the yard.

The stained glass windows were made in a time when the coal was carried out of the mines by 12 year olds who fit in the tiny tunnels better than adults and died of black lung before they were  30 years old.  Their beauty does not belie the 352 day work years of the 1800's when the mega rich were not forced to share, care, or even keep the workers alive.  We still have that problem in the world, but we let the kids from other countries suffer so that we do not have to see what the true cost of our consumerism is in America today.

The stained glass windows were made in a time when the coal was carried out of the mines by 12 year olds who fit in the tiny tunnels better than adults and died of black lung before they were 30 years old. Their beauty does not belie the 352 day work years of the 1800’s when the mega rich were not forced to share, care, or even keep the workers alive. We still have that problem in the world, but we let the kids from other countries suffer so that we do not have to see what the true cost of our consumerism is in America today.

I have gotten so many emails, comments on Facebook by people who have followed this dream of mine for years and with that, learned how many have found a better path, housed their families, and found a way to make a living where they can spend time with their children while they are young and need them most. Above all though, it has apparently begun to awaken many to the issues I rant about to the point of making some mad, the toxins in the houses that we raise our families in that cause leukemia, cancer, autism, fibromyalgia, Lupus, and so many other diseases that were not rampant only a century ago. We can do better than consumerism has led us to live, and we can do it without wars all over the world so the rich can rape and pillage the last of the planets resources in order to further enrich themselves without regard for our Mother Earth, the indigenous tribes of South America, Borneo, and other places where the last of the virgin forests are being sacked.

From the side you can see the etched glass windows from Buffalo NY, where 500,000 people lived in 1900, amidst the early industrial empires now moved over seas where cheap labor and lax environmental laws prevail.  Now they tear down the Chapels, the houses, and the vast city to throw it away in landfills rather than build a new world with the product of millions who were worked without mercy to make only a few incredibly rich.

From the side you can see the etched glass windows from Buffalo NY, where 500,000 people lived in 1900, amidst the early industrial empires now moved over seas where cheap labor and lax environmental laws prevail. Now they tear down the Chapels, the houses, and the vast city to throw it away in landfills rather than build a new world with the product of millions who were worked without mercy to make only a few incredibly rich.

I hear from the elderly who are on the brink of being homeless, the kids who have no hope of ever getting a home, and from mothers who’s kids are sickened by the newly constructed houses that are full of imported parts that are severely toxic and yet, still used to create houses made with things like sheetrock that is so toxic, even the landfills will no longer take it in to be buried where it will produce Hydrogen sulfide, a deadly gas that stinks like rotten eggs and maims or kills those who must suck it in for air because they live nearby. Those are not the rich who will suffer the smell, for they can afford to live in what they believe are better places but the irony is, their giant houses are made from the same toxic modern building materials and they too will see their children suffer, sicken, and die for this insane consumeristic need to have more, bigger, and prettier houses than anyone else before us, or in the rest of the world for that matter. What can I do by myself to help stop this madness from continuing? I ask myself as I go to sleep at night, and wake up from dreams with new ideas, now ten years into attempting to form the Pure Salvage Living Renaissance as a way to provide an alternative path for those willing to awaken to the issues and act to change them, even if only for their own loved ones while the rest of the world continues to suck up the TV, radio, and newspaper advertising that convinces them that they really want this stuff in their lives.

From an angle you can see the sides,  the defects in the hundred year old hand cut laced gingerbread on the facia, and know how long it took to cut by hand with a coping saw after drilling a hole in the wood and inserting the tiny blade through to cut out the heart of each fleur de lis.   Imagine that the front took someone a day or more, perhaps 2 to create, and it has lasted for more than a century, to be used to create such a beautiful chapel front.  Modern world equivalent would be plastic or styrofoam, both of which will never disappear from the planet as they don't dissolve for hundreds of years once they fall off in ten or fifteen years and have not worth, thus get thrown away into a dump, or worse, litter the planet and end up in the oceans, in the bellies of fish and birds.  Disgusting alternative, yet it is the builders choice for you if you want this look.

From an angle you can see the sides, the defects in the hundred year old hand cut laced gingerbread on the facia, and know how long it took to cut by hand with a coping saw after drilling a hole in the wood and inserting the tiny blade through to cut out the heart of each fleur de lis. Imagine that the front took someone a day or more, perhaps 2 to create, and it has lasted for more than a century, to be used to create such a beautiful chapel front. Modern world equivalent would be plastic or styrofoam, both of which will never disappear from the planet as they don’t dissolve for hundreds of years once they fall off in ten or fifteen years and have not worth, thus get thrown away into a dump, or worse, litter the planet and end up in the oceans, in the bellies of fish and birds. Disgusting alternative, yet it is the builders choice for you if you want this look.

With that said, I have been talking to people who ask me not to give up my dream to help change this path our society is on, to continue to hold the dream of Pure Salvage Outposts growing around the country as places to learn how we can do better, create toxin free housing from sustainable materials, and perhaps offer the next 7 generations an alternative. There are many who seem to be coming around, sadly from the shock of losing their loved ones, their own health, and not wanting the madness to continue in spite of the builders pretending like this is not a universal problem now as we create 450,000 new houses a year that are little more than toxic waste with no salvage value in the future and a 15 year lifespan without massive maintenance and return trips to the big box stores that import this crap we use to build more such monstrosity with and thus sicken millions more without conscience.

Even from behind you can see the beauty of the glass in red, made from gold being added to the molten glass, or cobalt in the blue, arsenic in the green, and all with coal we need not mine or burn to create a chapel or a house if we simply use what we have from the past that lies all about at our fingertips.  We can salvage it for far less cost to the world, less damage to the people who will use it, and with the pride that our forefathers had when they created it instead of viewing it as trash.

Even from behind you can see the beauty of the glass in red, made from gold being added to the molten glass, or cobalt in the blue, arsenic in the green, and all with coal we need not mine or burn to create a chapel or a house if we simply use what we have from the past that lies all about at our fingertips. We can salvage it for far less cost to the world, less damage to the people who will use it, and with the pride that our forefathers had when they created it instead of viewing it as trash.

I for one still have a desire to see it change and for that reason I am considering asking for help through one of the mechanisms that the public can share in, but I do so with great hesitation, after eating out of dumpsters in my lifetime rather than beg for money from strangers, friends, or family in my youth. Perhaps it is my pride beaten into me when I was young and taught to bend over and take my punishment for failing to do what is right, and not cry about the pain of my punishment. Perhaps it is my ego that keeps me from admitting I have failed to accomplish my dream through my own efforts, work, sacrifice, and the millions I have poured into this dream. After all, it has clearly only been my dream and others have not been paying for it, except the rich patrons who have bought some of my Tiny Texas Houses, as well as some not so rich who took all they had to invest in order to have this escape from the madness in spite of their friends looking at them strange for wanting to live the tiny life. What little profits were left after trying to pay a decent wage, teaching hundreds only to have them leave, some to start a business doing salvage, others to build, but most to waste the opportunity and steal tools, fail to come to work sober, and thus be sent on their way to make room for what I had hoped would be many that would take it and run with the ball. I have been wrong more times than right, but it often was because those I tried to help were already hindered by the drugs, the alcohol, and many ways our society anesthetizes themselves because they want all the things they see advertised that will supposedly make them happy only to find they make them sick, dependent, or unhappy for the debt slaves they become to have them.
we can do better by saving what we have, by honoring the past work that so many did with pride in a time when Made In America meant a quality standard craftsmen could be proud of.  That time is gone as we go for faster, cheaper, and imported over American most of the time so that we can have more, not better.

we can do better by saving what we have, by honoring the past work that so many did with pride in a time when Made In America meant a quality standard craftsmen could be proud of. That time is gone as we go for faster, cheaper, and imported over American most of the time so that we can have more, not better.

For that reason I am considering setting up a trust where all the land, massive inventory, and resources i have accumulated can be put and through that vehicle survive me should something happen to me. I have no heirs left to leave anything too but the people of this world who care about the kids, the elders, and the people in between who need help in so many ways. I want to create a way to allow the books I am trying to get written, the videos I once could afford to make, and the means to create a market and villages that will be replicable where ever the demand can be grown by people who care enough to take actions. Anyone who knows me will attest that I want for little as I wear second hand clothes, live in a house without electric or running water, walk barefoot most of the time, and seldom venture out to parties, movies, or entertainment. I have no need for fancy anything, nor would I waste the funds on it when I have so much left to do before I leave to try and make this world a better place, in spite of the amazing odds against my success. I have earned more money than most will ever see, but lost the time with my son when he was alive as my biggest price, and nothing else means more to me that being sure that the Forget Me Not Chapel and other examples of what can be done are seeded into the minds of the many who are awaiting the seeds it will take to grow the changes in each of us needed to make this world a better place. I am emboldened to ask for help though it goes deeply against my nature, but as others ask for my help to teach them, to give seminars, to show them a path to happiness that the American Dream fed to us for the last half century has failed to bring, for it was no more than propaganda without truth leading us to make the top 1% the richest they have ever been and immune from criminal charges because they use corporations to control the world that are immune from going to jail, only paying fines, and which are obligated to make money for the shareholders regardless of the death and destruction that objective may cause. It is in fact required of them and as legal persona’s according to our supreme court, bought and paid for again by those in charge, they can buy all of the politicians that are good for them, and take down all that are bad with unlimited amounts of money, which the masses can not possibly compete with these days in order to change the status quo.

Soon the Forget Me Not Chapel will be finished, and perhaps have a new owner who will take it away, to do good things, to carry on the legacy I meant to leave for my son who left before me, likely murdered for no more than an I-phone and a guitar that was the most important thing in his life.  I want everyone to see the metaphors hidden in this simple chapel, to know what could be possible for the other kids out there, so that they may pick up the torch one day and carry on where I leave off.  The trust would do that if I can create it, fund it, and find the people to spread the wealth of knowledge, ideas, and creativity for the next century in hopes that we can undo what my generation has done in less than a century of marketing the consumerism that controls America, and possibly the world soon.

Soon the Forget Me Not Chapel will be finished, and perhaps have a new owner who will take it away, to do good things, to carry on the legacy I meant to leave for my son who left before me, likely murdered for no more than an I-phone and a guitar that was the most important thing in his life. I want everyone to see the metaphors hidden in this simple chapel, to know what could be possible for the other kids out there, so that they may pick up the torch one day and carry on where I leave off. The trust would do that if I can create it, fund it, and find the people to spread the wealth of knowledge, ideas, and creativity for the next century in hopes that we can undo what my generation has done in less than a century of marketing the consumerism that controls America, and possibly the world soon.

I realize I am indeed setting my self up to be the bullseye in many people’s sights as I speak out against what so many dedicate their lives to, the idea of having more making them happy, or look better to others because of their assets, not their actions. Still, that matters little for I have lived a good life without ever having the diamonds, gold, and luxuries be important to me, less so after divorce and leaving most of what I did have behind. I came to Texas living in a School bus with $640 to my name and a dream of writing a book that would be considered literature one day. I have yet to finish but I wanted to be a writer when I was young, and I have gotten to do that, as I do here now, though not literature and I know by having a degree in that field, but perhaps the words will make a difference all the same, and open the eyes of many to the wonders of our creative ability to make our dreams and visions work for the benefit of the many, not just our self aggrandizement.

Thank you for reading this long essay to the world. It is a first draft as most of what I publish is, unpolished and from the heart where I kept my emotions hidden under armor for 55 years, and finally cast it off to cry, feel love, and know that my son will not be forgotten, thus the Forget Me Not Chapel comes to life, defects and all, like me when he died. Please share, spread the word that we can do better, and take the actions within yourself to help make the world a better place for those who need help, guidance, Love, and hope. Let me know if you think I should go for the crowd funding to clear the last of the debt that the bank will use to shut this all down soon and instead leave it all in a trust that will last for generations to come if we can make it so. I swear i will not use a penny for myself and all would go to this cause, this trust I wish to finally form but could not fulfill myself. May my failure to do it by myself lead to the success that others might live better by in the end.

Darby