Posts Tagged ‘Arts’

Narrative Free Fall

Posted: November 1, 2014 by Ty in Musings
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The night began like most night’s do in this weird world. A horrible cup of black coffee, and many hours gone since sunshine vanished. The rain will start again soon, and I will still be sitting in this uncomfortable truck stop booth watching minivans, semis and motor homes going in and out.  But here I sit, when a source calls saying they have a big story, a source you trust, this is what you do.

The redheaded waitress with sass was looking dragged out tired. “Hey Suze can I get a refill?” she laughs, too often she’s seen me sitting here. Drinking coffee, waiting for the next “sketchy” individual to come and speak with me. I scratch my beard, more salt than pepper now. The flip phone even my cell carrier mocks begins to vibrate as Suze fills up the chipped ceramic mug. It’s getting to the point in the waiting where I should start thinking of a burger or eggs.

“Lucas here.”

The voice muffler kicks in on the other end of the line. “They know.”

“Who knows?” it was an obvious question, but needed to be asked.

“They. They are coming for us.”

Okay this seemed strange even for my world. Now I got a muffled and digitally distorted voice on my phone going on about “They”.  What the fuck are the They? How do strange things always track me down? The line suddenly cuts off and blasts white noise static. Flip closed, finger in ear to ring it out when the white suit appears and slides in across from me.

And it is truly a white suit, seer sucker, and flashy, pure white, like Herb Tarlic belt from WKRP white, with the matching shoes. Part of me is screaming that if this is the “sketchy” individual that is my source then I have stepped into a 700 Club world, and perhaps hell is real. White suit also has smooth white beard, trimmed short, piercing blue eyes and shoulder length white hair.

His hands are covered in white leather gloves as he waves Suze down and turns over his own coffee mug. “I assume the Voice reached you?”

“The Voice?” said like a name, it probably was the call I just received, but I don’t want to let on I know what this guy is talking about until he fills in a few more of the blanks.

“The Voice, disembodied, sounds digitally altered, it is literally a disembodied voice from the void. It can become solid in our world long enough to speak through old school cell phones, Smart Phones just blow up.” Suit says.

Bonus point for the guy with old school tech nobody else wants, I get to have a disembodied voice call me and warn me ominously about the coming of “They”. “Okay you explained the Voice flashy suit, and have insinuated I should trust it, but then that would mean I need to trust your statement, but I have no idea who you are.”

The man’s blue eyes become like intricately woven diamonds as they sparkle. Sucking one into the internal cosmos of the star dust that sparked each person’s soul and joined them to the all creator, and who metaphysical isms just keep leaping out. “Lucas, They are coming.”

Then the eyes go back to bright blue and I am once again having that uncomfortable spring in the left buttock’s from this bench booth. “Fine, but two questions: 1) who the hell are you? And 2) what the hell is “They”?”

Watch the eyes and the body language. Where is white suit taking this, my flip phone begins vibrating again. Number check, toll free probably some discount air liner announcing I have one a Bahama vacation. Ignore while white suit sips his bad diner coffee. “You Lucas, will discover They.” He rises and walks away. Great not exactly what I needed in this time and place some mysterious source acting like a Tulpa. So mysterious and yet leaving me with the bill. Move slowly from the table toss a ten on to cover, and follow him out calling after.

Step into the parking lot. No white suit, but a crack of lightning, roll of thunder and the skies open.


A flash of lightning. A bolt that hits the asphalt just before me. A form materializes in shimmering white suit. What the heck? “Suit?”

The sparkling diamond blue eyes lock back on me. “Lucas you seem to miss the point.  They will not care about this pitiful world, or even you. They are here to destroy, rend.”

Another flash and white suit is gone. I am heading home.

The sun shone through the stain glass. Nice little loft bedroom built in what was a former balcony in an old church building. Yes I am strange in that I picked it up cheap on the bankruptcy market, and built an office for investigations out of it. Simple semantics, sanctuary converted to apartment, church office used for my office. That’s all the ancient building had going for it. Although the way the morning sun dances through the old stain glass gives a calming influence for re-entry from slumber.

Especially after last night.

Turn on the coffee pot in the kitchen, apartment area is open concept; click the radio on for the morning news. CBC is a national broadcaster that will update what is happening outside my front door or so the theory goes.

Some simple toast with fresh coffee black.


Yup, for the past well over a year I had placed the adjective “used to” or “retired” in front of writer. Why? I simply needed to distance myself and rest, to rediscover the glimmer of joy as writing when done at a publishing level can sometimes sap a lot out of an individual (I find especially in smaller markets where money is not enough to live on) and when I let the project not the market shape my work.

Yet, I am slowly moving back into writing and speaking on my own terms, a little as my home church, Centennial Presbyterian, has invited me to take 2 services this summer, but also in part to the Calgary Public Library where I have been on a retro reading kick rediscovering the comics that shaped my fiction writing in my teens.

Currently rediscovering James Robinson and Tony Harris’ Starman run. The story of Jack Knight really aided me in reshaping the super hero universe I had been spinning stories out of for my friends since late elementary school, and became known as “The Verse” in High School where friends would eagerly await each new chapter (and even say a short story banned from publishing as a winner of a short story contest for the CBE due to LGBTQ content–a bi-sexual monk of all things).

Yes, the stories that saw characters that stayed with me well through college years and were a great stress release.  Some rejuvenated and in e-books shared on this sites, others lost to the mists of time. Ah technologies dying and losing saved files, hard copies vanishing there’s only so much one can save when they could write the equivalent of a book a month when one had free time when work was not 40 hours a week, when a term paper could easily be distracted from by pounding out another epic chapter…before the layers of life… for non-fiction writing when A&W still had an excellent and cheap breakfast before the advent of microwave bacon and the doubling of price…when there was space for quietness and reflection.

But life story morphs and as one reflects on building the writer’s space renewed in one’s home, family crisis leads to the space evaporating to aid an individual.

Now though, as I continue down the retro train, and rediscover old interests I ponder a renewal of the work.  Maybe not “The Verse” (for the longtime fan out there know it eventually got dubbed “The TyVerse”; ah the era’s of Johnny Power; Bionic Knight; Street Avenger and Hacker such wonderful times that the stories were told, and as any good story not to be revisited but for a few).

Where will this renewal lead, I do not know, but it is time to first work on discovering/crafting the space to create, to research, to spread out and be…

Thank you my loving wife for supporting the renewal of interest.

Lights / Luces

Lights / Luces (Photo credit: . SantiMB .)

Reactionary emotion

heart shutting

soul rending


power made

power lost

control surrendered to another

compounds upon others…

strikes when one is at their weakest



control regained

fear challenged

it is time

to unshutter the heart

Light of Holy Mystery to shine back in

a spark,

fanned to a glimmer,

fanned some more feeding it hope

hope sparks through the prism of the heart

warming the soul anew.

In 1969 the Church universal declared St. George a mythical figure, making his feast day optional. This was part of one of the greatest coverups in church history. The true story of St. George and his Dragon dates back to the 4th century CE Libya, and it opens up a world of mystery, intrigue, murder, and action within Sherwood City, AB, Canada.

This is the first Tuck & Bronwyn Mystery, enjoy!

Read HERE: StGeorges Dragon

English: Icon of St. George killing the dragon...

English: Icon of St. George killing the dragon, third quarter of the 15 th century, Struga, in St. George church in Struga, Macedonia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Simple digitization. Now some may say it is a point of braggadicio, but that is not the intent. God has given me a call to reach out and be the voice for those who feel they have no voice, and to aid them in discovering the voice we all have.

But it has been a life filled with great things that I have kept in storage, and this storage has been a spiritual clog if you will that can hinder new opportunities…so the digitization was part of the spiritual practice of simplicity, to release the files, but also to free the physical space. Just like a sacrament, an outward representation of an inward cleanse.

So there it is, what once was, and now to move into what is.


Move on in and watch your world change:

Gil Tucker tours Missional Housing on Global TV Newshour: Here

…Before I stand in an empty white void.

Okay something is terribly tripping weird. The flap of
feathers and a Robin lands on my shoulder. “Uther, I told you a new guide would

“I am Uther.” Wait, back up, that was supposed to be I’m
not Uther. Yet it came out that way. The white void is being filled in. The
stereotypical fantasy novel tavern setting. I feel the chair form underneath
me, as I move to a seated position. The Robin is flying around the tavern
trying to appear non-chalant. This is the weirdest vision quest I have ever
been a part of. Okay so it is the only vision quest I have ever been a part of,
but still.

Why would I be here?

“So that hopefully you will
be listening with your true essence and not just your human ears.” The Gray has
returned to the scene. Great, now not only am I followed by a talking Robin,
add to the hallucinations a talking alien. When did my life get so messed up? “About
17 years ago Uther, when you triggered your true self by taking on the gem.”

“My true self? What the hell does that mean?”

The Robin lands on my shoulder, “it means you stop
running from who you truly are. The king that unified the tribes of old, laid
the foundation stones for Camelot.”

Great now the bird thinks I actually want this trip, when
all I want is to be back home. Alone. No not alone, with Susan, my true love.
Since our first kiss all the way back in pre-school. Yup we are that lame.

I feel the laminate smack against my face. What the?
Laminate, rolled off a cushioned pew. I’m in Susan’s chapel. The lone candle is
flickering in the darkness, what is it she calls it? The Christ Candle, how we
centre on the divine within each one of us.    The
flame is dancing, lilting, the puffs of smoke seem to be creating a shape…a
griffin’s head with a mangled arm inside…the sign of the Lewis Family, the
coat of arms that dates back to the time of Uther PenDragon. My chest burns,
the gem is glowing hot in response.

Standing alone in the chapel there is a crack of thunder
and a flash of lightning that illuminates the area. An ankh hangs. Let me
remember my ancient mythologies class, it was actually a symbol adopted by
Coptic Christianity, but there was a deeper meaning within it…renewal of
life. That was the symbol the renewal of life.

I run my hand over the jade artwork. Interesting that I
should see this now, another flash of illumination. Grit my teeth as my gem
burns my chest, my left eye locks on the ankh glowing hot…a flash…


Two latest works by Ty Ragan.  Clicking on the covers will take you to the order page.

Pilgrimage to the Heart is a journey of self-discovery for our true callings in life and how to realize them.

The Bard’s Spirit looks at the synergy between the Life of Jesus and the writings of Shakespeare in building a new world.

Both books are great for individual discovery or group work! And the author is available for speaking/teaching engagements.


A fun social justice pulp adventure in the tradition of Doc Savage and the Shadow, with a Tyverse twist!

street priezt