I am the Dreaming Sentinel. I am a dreamer, seeker, a walker of the dark—I bring light to things unspoken, sound to that unheard. But over all, I am human. This is my journey through life; my musings, my thoughts, my ramblings, and that which I am called to create.

I am a writer, an artist, and a teller of stories through their many forms—though again, I do not claim to be perfect. But I do not want to weave these thoughts into works my muse tells me to create, and so I express, explore, and perhaps hone them here, instead. They are also things I am called to create, though for different purposes, with different meanings. But know that the work is not mine alone, and that knowledge is the inheritance of the world—many have contributed to these, and gone before, and I would not claim them as my own. They are yours to do with as you will; grow them, develop them, critique them, hone them.

The rights of my name on my work are important, but not more so than the growth and spread of knowledge itself, for those willing to listen. I appreciate payment for my efforts, for I must live in a society which requires it, however I hope to make my income as a healer and put this work before myself. Who am I, to patent a seed, that would not exist if not for generations upon generations before me? What use would it hold, if no-one were to spread it after?

Copyright is only good insofar as it keeps artists in control of their work (a right which is already lost in editing for professional publication), against those who would steal it to make money, corrupt it, or otherwise. But this happens anyway eventually—after one’s death, or against forces too big to fight. I have no qualms against my work being shared in pursuit of knowledge, however to make money from it or for a business to grab hold of it would potentially deprive the truth of my work, and me of a source of income so that I may eat, and clothe myself, and live on the King’s land, in a realm protected against violence, by violence.

I understand desperation, and those who cannot, by their own struggles, pay—but please, follow your own path through this life, and do not leach off my efforts. This, I feel, is wrong, and certainly against the laws of many countries (as well as what I have written above).

So, in a more practical sense, who am I? I am one who would be classed as a Jungian, though in truth I may only ever be myself, and am only now beginning to look into his work further. I was guided to his writings by Julia Cameron, who, without my knowledge, set me unwittingly on the path of self-individuation—a path I sought after being left distraught and damaged by the educational system, and my own intellect.

For a long time I pursued a career as an artist, for artist and writer I have always been, only to discover in high-school that there were rules involved if I were ever to take it to a professional level. And, of course, in order to be a skilful technician, respected and good at what I do, I would have to follow them. This then lead me down to the supposition that it was hard to get work as an artist, and I would be lonely (for I love human interaction, with those I trust)—so I channeled my passion for the moral consequence in RPG video-games to become a Concept Artist (which later lead me to Designer and Creative Script-Writer, CA on the side) for steady, part-time work.

I am an idealist. I will admit this freely, for it is as much a strength as it is a weakness (the weakness, for the most part, resulting from the harsh realities of society). I didn’t know then what I know now about the entertainment industry—that there is very little part-time work, that most work consists of low-mid range pay with at least 60% overtime, and that such hours lead to poor self care. I didn’t know then what I do now about health, and nutrition (the very things which allowed me to “wake up”), and so I loved the dream of what the game industry would become, when I was finally “good enough” to join it, not realising my own unique skills on this life path. I thought, rather rationally, of survival, and the realities of an artistic career in this world.

Though I have only ever volunteered in video-games, and experienced the film industry but briefly, it was enough to tell me—painfully—that the career wasn’t for me. I care too much for the creative integrity of a piece, it’s intellect or experimental exploration (by all means not comforting to Sensing types, who make up the majority of the population), and seeing my work misunderstood and mis-delivered was too much for me to compromise on.

I am, unfortunately, more rational than most artists (are at least stereotyped to be). I see the beauty in hydraulics and animatronics, in realistic bio-mechanical creations, and why anatomical correctness (to our current knowledge of physics and evolution, or even what most people perceive as our current knowledge) might be useful in the “suspension of disbelief”. But these are not my skills, and art, unfortunately, is not a strength of mine—though it is something I must do, it exacts a toll; a price I am trying to lessen by listening to art for the purpose of expression, rather than perfection or egotistical self-grandeur.

And this leads me unto marketing. With the knowledge that I was not going to work for someone in the mainstream system, I thought I could still be a writer and artist, but I would have to bite the bullet and market myself. Indeed, it was not even about biting the bullet that time—for though I hate spending time marketing and harping on about why I’m so much better than everyone else, so professional, skilled, and amazing (for as artists we must be humble, and thus trying to take on a job traditionally someone else’s we might be wrong, even if it is to preserve independence or start with what we have, there must be other ways), some part of me had always believed that I would need to exist up there in Hollywood, changing the world with my stories, for my work to have any value. I would have to be famous, and professional, and hailed as a skilled, talented success—I didn’t have enough life experience then to realise the negative effect of desiring affirmation from others, that life is about more than my own ego and technical success. It is about being genuine about myself and the stories I have to tell—not necessarily understanding their purpose, in the end.

And so, the feeling that I needed to market myself, and indeed the undue influence of my ego (however I write this not having enough psychological knowledge to be confident in it’s technical term), pushed me to some unhealthy, divergent ways from my Path. My art looked beautiful; I was doing what many others were doing (but different!), I was talented, and in time people would surely recognise me and my work.

And yet, I remained unfulfilled, and eventually this fear of what others thought began to consume even the creation of my most sacred thing, until I could no longer listen to my heart. In truth, this had been lost for a long time, and the journey to reconnect with it again was a painful, and arduous one. Painful, yes—for it was because of that pain, that suffering, that I had cut it out for cynicism, logic, and false drives in life. I call them false, for they were not my own—what isn’t for me may be exactly what others are called to follow and be, however. I can no longer judge these things. But I will say, that my life is a far richer one, now that I have reconnected with the truth of my emotions, as hard as they may be to listen to at times, and seemingly irrational. With proper inspection they guide me to many truths (but then I am a Feeling type), some of which cannot be logically explained or understood, but I believe stem from the wisdom of the subconscious—or “God”, or even James Lovelock’s version of Gaia.

Whatever it may be, these feelings are what lead me here, now, to the truth of my work, and true satisfaction in that which I do. I see a deeper meaning now, beyond that of “skill” or professional recognition, but that of my life’s purpose—a spiritual search for the meaning of life itself, in all the places I might find it. Mythology, psychology, human interaction, history, etc…

This is what The Dreaming Sentinel has become. It is no longer a place to market my work, and chase that which so many others seem to do—but rather, it has become a place to share my work, my world, and my thoughts with others on the same quest for knowledge in this human experience.

Call me what you will. Philosopher, artist, writer—dreamer; I cannot be summed up by that which my work stems, but only their results and where they take me. I do not wish to be limited by these things anymore, as useful as they are to gain a quick understanding of me and my work should you not have the time to read it. So I will let others give me labels, labels which are based on that which I seem to be. But know that I am everything and I am nothing; I live, and then I die. This is merely my experience of life, my exploration of it—done for reasons I will perhaps never comprehend, but simply because I am called to.

Find myself in my work, and find my work flowing through me. Where the two separate and join, I cannot say, for it would not exist without me, and yet is also best beyond my control.

Do with it what you will, yet follow your truth in all choices. I hope your life is one richly lived, and if my work can guide you in that, then I am blessed indeed.