A True Story, as Yet Unfolding..., Film Journey

Eventful Embarkation

In the fog, all things are uncertain and precarious. Forms lose their edginess, while people gain it. In our efforts to extract meaningful images from a white-on-white canvas, we strain our eyes and whiten our knuckles if we’re sitting behind a wheel, and if we’re on foot, our imaginations can misconstrue a hellscape as safe passage and a clear pathway as brambles. I was feeling alert, alive and present on the morning of March 1, at 6:00 AM, as I drove warily through the dense fog blanketing Okeechobee County well before the sun could burn its way through. The interior of Florida is notorious for dangerous highways that slice across the state from the west coast to the east at regular intervals up and down the American mega-peninsula. I had nearly completed the turn-off from one of those highways when disaster struck. A nano-second of horn blare, screeching tires and the crashing sounds of metal and glass reconstructing each other, and then I was spinning. I became a moving part on the inside of a much larger moving part (the Honda Accord). A three-quarter turn and then a complete stop. Car still running, lights still slashing at the fog, I unbuckled and disembarked. The dazed walk I took to the other side of the vehicle gave me all the visual information I needed to conclude that my road trip was over, at least for today. After hurling a couple of profanities at the passive whiteness, I came to my senses and walked away from the crippled hulk. My next thought was for the occupant(s) of the other vehicle. With prayers and fears overflowing, I approached the driver’s door. And that was when extreme gratitude made its reappearance on the scene. One occupant, and although she wasn’t speaking, I could see that she wasn’t critically injured or unconscious. Cars are disposable, people are not.

According to fond memories, I enjoyed driving this Accord.

Two days earlier, on Monday afternoon, I left Savannah for the second time during the month of February. I had decided days before to consider the first trip a trial run; a learning experience for the real “Cross Country Expedition to Gather Film Content”. I’d also decided to scale back the distance covered. Instead of driving from Mile Marker 0 on Key West to the farthest reaches of Alaska, I opted for the farthest northwest point in the contiguous USA, which is Cape Flattery, WA. By the time I finished sorting through and selectively packing everything I could think of for the trip and recording the following video, it was already past 2:00 PM. I drove away from storage locker 88 and headed south.

The official start of the “Grand Providentia Projection” is now! Join us for “A True Story, as Yet Unfolding…”

I left the storage locker and Savannah late in the day. I couldn’t imagine hurrying toward Sanford, Florida and the American Bronze Foundry because that was 5 hours away and would be closed by the time I arrived. I decided to head south and take an easterly detour to the Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge. It’s a coastal preserve and it is where I had previously filmed a few scenes for “Return to Hope”. I was not disappointed by my intuitive side trip. It was wonderful afternoon weatherwise, and the refuge was nearly deserted. I ate dinner by the water as the sun set and then I set forth. Spirit untethered.

“Speak to Us” Live Oak, living in the Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge. Remember – all photos are available as gifts for a $20 donation to the cause. I will email a high-quality image, which you can then print to your specs.
“Infrastructure Undone” The Harris Neck National Wildlife Refuge was established by the U.S. Fish and Game Commission on an abandoned military airfield in McIntosh County, GA. Apparently, when we’re all done with the fighting, we sometimes go fishing.
“Thistle” One of the most beautiful weeds I’ve ever seen… or heard.

By the time I hit the onramp for I-95 South it was getting dark. I drove for a couple of hours before turning in to a rest stop for a dinner out-of-the-trunk and a pre-bedtime brush and splash out-of-the-sink. As uncomfortable as the passenger seat was for sleeping, I was feeling extraordinarily blessed by the freedom to make my own choices and set my own pace. In the morning, I drove off as the sun was revealed by a horizon in perpetual motion. Next stop, American Bronze Foundry in Sanford, Florida. But along the way, off of historic Route1, I followed signs to a town named Lincolnville. That is where I captured the last good photo of my home away from no-home, the cranberry Honda I choose to call Accord.

“Cutting the Accord” Take note of the signage.
“American Bronze Foundry” My foundry of choice since leaving Bronzart (Sarasota) in 2008.

After a short meeting with Charlie (Charles Wambold III) to drop off the model and discuss a bare-bones version of my hopes and dreams concerning the “Grand Providentia Projection”, I drove off in the direction of Key West. Timing is everything when you are preparing to drive through Miami, so I fully expected to stop and sleep again before getting to the keys. Another sidetrack to Mullet Lake Park in Seminole County and then I would dine, and squirm through the night in the cramped bucket seat of Accord.

“Mullet Lake Park”

I didn’t see any mullets, in the water or on people’s heads, but I did enjoy a nice lunch by the water, while being entertained by an airboat pilot showing off his fancy fan skills.

I’ve never been skilled at predicting the future, even when the future is as close as the following morning, but if I had that skillset, I’m sure I would have lingered longer at the rest stop waiting for the fog to lift before resuming the drive south. In a single moment, all things can change. I love change, though, because it enhances our flexibility and expands our ability to accept the way things are in the now.

Return tomorrow for a report on where I’m at and where I’m planning to go from here. Thank you for reading this Grand Providentia United journal entry! Please feel free to stay awhile, scroll down, scroll back up, and read until you yawn. Good night, good people!


Let it Flow, let it Flow, let it Flow…

While cooking eggs this morning, I was blindsided by a sudden and glaring self-awareness. A passing thought brought with it an unavoidable wake-up call. It was a thought that screamed ‘You are living your life like a fugitive! Stop this immediately!’. My shaking hand nearly dropped the spatula fully loaded with hash browns. I wanted to protest, but I knew I was toast. In truth, I knew that I was beyond toast. I was a burned piece of stale bread in the trash. There was no defense to offer. The case had closed as soon as it was opened. In a vision that can’t be unseen, its clarity eternally sharp, I stared with horror at the current state of my existence. I’ve been absolutely living like a fugitive, and this behavior absolutely needs to stop!

“What are you lookin’ at, Eggs!”

Let the banners be raised, and all in favor of stopping unhealthy behavior, say EYE! And how do I know that this fugitive mentality is unhealthy? Because it limits the totality of the man that I refer to as me. It curtails my inborn ability to present to the world the best of who I am and what I have to offer. If I choose to remain hidden, it is unlikely that I will be found, even by my own sense of purpose. And why, you might ask, have I been living like a fugitive? You may as well pose this question to the eggs I was cooking, because I can’t see reason, although I have been looking. You recommend I seek counsel, to evaluate my self-appraisal. Well, I say, it’s as plain as day that I’ve been hiding away, and the only solution is to adopt a resolution to put aside my pride and walk outside.

“This Terra is Not So Firma”

Now walking. Now learning. Now growing. With a farm-fresh perspective, hard won through the many misguided adventures of an explorer without eyesight, I’ve arrived at the understanding that I’ve done nothing wrong. At least not wrong enough to continue living this life like a fugitive.

Thank you, readers, for returning again and again to read this True Story as it unfolds…

Patrons and Supporters

Fundraiser for “Return to Hope”

Urgent Call for Support!Post #2

In this, the second of three posts dedicated to this call for support, I’ll introduce you to the Personal Dream Realization Device, also known as the American Dream Catcher medallion. I designed, sculpted, molded and cast the first run of PDRDs back in 2010. The medallions were designed and created to be an integral part of the American Dream Catcher Initiative. The focus of this initiative was the “American Dream Catcher” bronze sculpture, which has since evolved into “Providentia – A Harmonic Dream Conservatory” (See image below). This 42″, 100-pound bronze sculpture was intended from the start, to be a small-scale model for multiple monumental size pieces. Each of these large-scale bronzes would be collaboratively produced at 16′ tall and installed around the globe, as focal points to receive and transmit the positive conscious intentions of the collective human race. During concept development discussions at S.M.art Castings & Sculpture Services, we often referred to these sculpture installations as being like acupunctural therapy on the planet Earth. What I refer to today, as the “Grand Providentia Projection” has its roots in the fertile spiritual and intellectual soil of the American Dream Catcher Initiative. For those readers who’d like a more comprehensive history of the American Dream Catcher and how it evolved into Providentia, I can point you toward my Facebook page. During the 365 days of 2021, I wrote a post each and every day; I called it Perspective Collective 365. It was the first time I have ever completely followed through on a New Year’s resolution in this lifetime. If you’re willing to take the time to scroll down through the posts, all the way back to 5/26/21, you’ll see the first post of “The Evolution of Providentia”. The story spans 79 posts, from May through August 10, and then nine more posts during the first nine days of November. Even if you don’t care to read the posts, I’d be greatly honored if you’d send me a friend request! https://www.facebook.com/scottjoseph.moore

The American Dream Catcher (Left) is now “Providentia”

Now, moving on to the Personal Dream Realization Device, aka – the American Dream Catcher medallion.

The American Dream Catcher – Personal Dream Realization Device

Here’s how they work: If you happen to have any intentions, goals or dreams that are worth pursuing, then a PDRD can be a valuable tool to have in your pocket or on your desktop! Whenever you are making a decision that might be critical to the manifestation of those intentions, goals and dreams, simply focus on the medallion and let your intuition guide you in the right direction. At the center of the PDRD is a stylized representation of a human figure with arms upraised. The golden orb is representative of our consciousness and our ability to manifest our dreams. The black and white orbs on either shoulder are there to remind you that your decisions, and the actions you take based on those decisions, are the deciding factors in bringing you closer to, or further from, your goals and dreams. If you happen to be a positive person and you’re seeking what you consider to be positive goals, then gauge each decision based on how much closer it will bring you toward the white orb. If you are a negative person and you’re seeking to dominate others or destroy the world, then you should gauge those decisions on how much closer they’ll bring you to absolute blackness (the other orb). The orbs on either shoulder do not necessarily represent right or wrong, or good or bad, but they can represent those values if you decide that they should. Personally, I’ve chosen to designate the white orb as being pure positivity, and each decision that I make which moves me in that direction, will bring the best results for all those who may be affected by that decision. A Personal Dream Realization Device can be a powerful meditative tool, acting as a focal point in the manifestation of all your deepest dreams and desires.

Get your PDRD today! For details see the last journal entry (below) here on the Grand Providentia United blogsite.

In my next post, I’ll present the case on why I think you should claim one of these medallions, and furthermore, why you should share your hard-earned money with this cause. Right now, I just want to thank you for reading this post and for sharing some of your attention here!

Film Journey in the Now

Return to Hope

Production of a Portfolio Film – Post #1 Concept Development

The first time I laid eyes on what my childhood friends and I would eventually refer to as the “First River” in Hope, Rhode Island, I thought that surely it must be a magical river. Magic was the only explanation my six-year-old imagination could come up with as to how the river’s water could have been transformed into a wonderfully milky, bright orange flow.

The first river was actually more akin to a spillway than a river, being flanked by hand-stacked stone walls and gravel embankments from the point that it emerged out of the arched granite gateway at the rear of Hope Mill, all the way down to its reintroduction point with the Pawtuxet River. The mill had been using the Pawtuxet’s water to generate electricity for nearly a century before I first visited its spillway, a historical fact that was entirely irrelevant to my uneducated mind at six years of age. And on that first sighting, every gallon of water in between those walls, for the full half-mile stretch of the first river’s length, was a swirling Creamsicle orange. During the following weeks, I returned to the river often and I was thrilled and delighted to see that it would change colors regularly. Baby blue was my favorite because it appeared to be creamy enough to drink, but even at that age, I sensed it would be an unwise decision to do so. For weeks, I visited the magic river, and I kept it as a secret from my parents. When I finally told my dad about it, I was perplexed by his stern reaction. As we walked down to the rivers’ edge together, my father’s demeanor seemed to grow stormier with every step. When he saw it, he became downright angry. He said, “Son this is not right! The mill is polluting the river with their wastewater and that’s against the law!”

“First River” Hope, RI – June 2022

I’m not sure about this, but I think my dad may have reported the environmental crime to the local authorities. The mill, however, continued to pollute the river for at least another three to four years, because I can clearly remember watching the fish and turtles dying slowly through the passing seasons, presumably a result of the toxic dyes being poured daily into their habitat. That childhood experience has remained fresh in my mind for fifty-three years’ worth of water passing under a multitude of bridges in my lifetime. Memories of the experience have also evolved into the underlying premise of the portfolio film I am now producing, titled “Return to Hope”. The film is to be a crucial element of the submission package for my application to the graduate program at Savannah College of Art and Design. Although I have never created a film before, this one will need to be emotionally provocative and intellectually impactful, considering that I’m hoping to impress the college admissions board. The sole mandatory guideline given by the admissions department is that the film must be no longer than ten minutes. Well, as you might imagine, this requirement brought my confidence level up a notch or two. As a novice filmmaker, producing a ten-minute film seems manageable. As to how impactful it will be, well, that is entirely a matter of intention.

Spillway Outlet” Hope Mill, Hope, RI – June 2022

The month of October is my personal favorite. Not only because it is the month I was born in, but because it represents the beginning of the transition between summer and autumn. I love the cool crisp mornings of fall; the coming harvest and the promise of snowfall; anticipating nights spent by the fireplace staring into the glowing embers and remembering the best of autumns long past.

This morning, October 1, 2022, I set the intention to turn my focus primarily to the work on this film. Journal entries on the Grand Providentia United blog site will also be largely dedicated to this intention. I will be documenting the process from beginning to end, right here on this site. Happy October everyone!

As soon as I published this post, a notification popped up to congratulate me on my 100th post on Grand Providentia United. In light of the transcendental level of intentions I’ve been setting this morning, I see most clearly that there is a high density of synchronicity in the air today!

Here and Now

There is an Abundance of Self-Worth Available for Us to Offer Ourselves, But First We Must Feel Worthy Enough to Accept the Offer (Continued)

Practicing the Art of Self-Worth (Part Two)

During the second night of my new job in the warehouse, I crossed the threshold of being a dedicated company employee and passed deep into the territory of being a foolish steward of my own sacred temple (body). I was now suffering from heat exhaustion. When I left the warehouse last Tuesday at midnight, I remember thinking I would be okay, everything would be okay, I just need to get home and get a good night’s sleep. Well, it didn’t turn out that way. When I crawled into bed after a cool shower, I was so disoriented, nauseous and dehydrated that I never really had a chance at getting even a few hours of sound and restful sleep. Instead, I just kept rolling around, trying to find the magic position that would ease the throbbing in my overheated head and body. I barely slept that night. On Wednesday I tried to recuperate some energy and hydration by drinking as much water and electrolyte sports drinks as I could stomach. Having cut way back on my sugar intake during the past few years, I needed to seek out something other than Gatorade or any of its overly sweet sports drink lookalikes. I’ve learned quite a bit recently about how to take care of my physical health, and that makes last week’s unhealthy decisions even more upsetting. I should not have gone in on Wednesday night, but again, I did.

“Angry Eyes” from the Hope Mill collection

When I arrived at work on Wednesday, I was well prepared with lots of water and energy drinks, pain medications, and the types of food that my intuition told me I could handle without feeling nauseous. But the one thing that really made a difference was that my outlook and attitude had changed between the moment I fell into bed the previous night and 3:30 PM the following day. Somewhere during those hours, I saw through the conditioned insanity of my wage worker mindset. I had been trying to prove myself to the company and all of my new coworkers, and I’d even been trying to prove to myself that I still possessed the physical prowess I once had, and meanwhile I had somehow forgotten to take care of the physical body that I had been using like a machine to try to prove myself. I am so grateful to be able to recognize the madness in some of my behaviors these days. It took me many years to see with any kind of clarity, the dysfunctional and self-defeating qualities of my own actions and intentions. For me, it has always been extremely helpful to write through the issues I’m up against, so once they are laid out before me, I can pour over them, looking for the moment where my thoughts began to lead me astray. I have almost entirely recovered as I’m writing this today. I’m still feeling some lingering adverse effects from the partially self-inflicted illness which came on a week ago. It looks as though I’ll be continuing on down the winding pathway in this wonderful journey, we call life!

“The Path” 2011 by Scott Joseph Moore

To finish off this exploration into the irrationalities of my own self-defeating behaviors, I would like to make an attempt to move to a higher level of self-care. I’ll do this by touching on the other situation that happened toward the end of last week (the one involving family). Here’s the gist of it. A member of my family, someone that I’ve grown to love and respect, made a series of unhealthy choices and ended up in the hospital. It was a motor vehicle accident. As you would expect, there were attempts at denial and the shifting of blame by this family member, even from the hospital bed, but it was obvious to everyone around this person, that the bulk of the responsibility for what happened was on their shoulders alone. How does this relate to my story about suffering from heat exhaustion? Because we both knew in our hearts that we were making these unhealthy choices, and yet we made them anyway. We can offer ourselves as much self-worth as we want. We can tell ourselves that we are as worthy as anyone else. We can even fool ourselves into believing that we are more worthy than others. But at the end of each moment, we can only accept the amount of self-worth that we’re feeling we deserve.