To set the tone, I’ve provided a playlist. Press play on the album below to start some music that I think will fit while reading my stories. Enjoy!

I use my Instagram account to tell more than just a visual image. If I find something interesting, I’ll take a picture. Sometimes hours, days, weeks or years later I will return to that image and write how I feel at that particular moment. I like space stuff. Deal with it.


  • 2020.
  • Like a fresh cover of snow, the earth revolves around the sun churning the sparks of its core. May your course be true and its fuel push you beyond the heaven's horizon.
  • Twelve years running. John plotted the all too familiar course true to perfect form as if the text books on Daymar had wrote it's own declaration of best practices and perfect navigational charts to the heavens themselves. Last coordinate set. Ready to punch it. John pulls his hand back from the thruster and takes a moment to reflect on the first voyage many years ago. He smiles at his decision to plot a course due north that beautiful starday.
  • Roloff raises his standard issue pistol and points it directly at Captain James's head. "What are the codes?" he asks. James refuses to respond as he adjusts the uncomfortable restraining necklace and returns the glare. Roloff presses on, "For almost 5 years you have led this crew to our deaths. Why? To what end!?" The space storm ahead intensifies as the ship begins to rattle and violently shake. "What are the codes!?" Still silent. Roloff then takes out a small controller from his utility belt and powers it on. The necklace around james neck lights up with a red blinking flash. "Last time. What are the abort codes?" James looks at Roloff, scoffs and reaches into his top pocket and pulls out a small rolled up piece of paper. "Why'd it take you so long to ask? The helm is yours."
  • We enjoy the finer things. Fresh strawberries, Florida blueberries straight from the Bush, a juicy burger with all the fixings. A soft persimmon perched high above perfectly ripened in the perfect sun bathed summer days just before falling to the forest floor. Not too sweet, not too tart. In the morning, three strips of bacon with scrambled eggs with the perfect coffee to creme to sugar ratio that sends chills down your spine. A refreshingly chilled beer on the hottest day of the year. All wonderful. Except, I'm just a fish swimming in the ocean.
  • Fran opened her eyes and wiped the dried up tears from the corners of her eyes. She sits up and attempts to tame the headache that follows. She finds herself alone in the main cabin covered in a white blanket with the opposite end stained with dried blood. The life support console blinks true reminiscing a perfect heart beat as she remembers the night before. Reality sinks as she peers to the far end of the bed. A foot other than her own hangs beyond the cover. It lays motionless, pale, and void of a pulse as she slowly pulls away the cover of truth.
  • "Crick" was nominated for 11 awards, and we walked away with 5. 🏆 Best Adherence to Genre 🏆 Best Cinematography 🏆 Best Original Score 🏆 Audience Award group A 🏆 1st Runner Up Best Film (also nominated for best use of prop, best use of character, best costumes, best actor, best actress, best sound design, top 10) "Crick" (director's cut)
  • Jardren gazed through the observation deck portal only to be awestruck by the passing atmospheric clouds. He could feel the oxygen rich particles burn his eyes even with the protective shield that swarmed the outer hull of the freighter but the anticipation of the ground assault ripped through his nerves begging for carnage, yet propelled his wits into a tactically precise assault on this seemingly docile world. It's only a matter of when...
  • My master took me for a walk tonight.
  • Our sci-fi film, "The Will" ended up winning 7 awards including Best Film and Best Directing at this years Austin 48 Hour Film Project. We were up for 16 nominations total! We won: 🏆 BEST FILM 🏆 BEST DIRECTING 🏆 BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY 🏆 BEST ACTRESS 🏆 BEST USE OF ORIGINAL MUSIC 🏆 BEST SET DESIGN 🏆 BEST SOUND DESIGN We were also nominated for: Best Editing, Best Special Effects, Best Titling, Best Musical Score, Best Visual Effects, Best Acting Ensemble, Best Use of Genre, Best Use of Dialog, & Best Use of Prop. #48hourfilmproject #atxfilmmaking
  • Janis peered around the corner as cautiously as her wits allowed. "20? 20 meters! Just 20? That's nothing!", she assured herself. A massive spotlight lit up the control room just outside the aft window & she quickly ducked behind the adjacent wall. Her heart skipped a few beats as she controlled herself back to plan. A few more seconds & the power will re-route back to the core. A small bot across the hall selfishly beeps announcing it is ready to take the next command. She signals the bot and it bolts down the corridor. A red glow breaches the room with an explosive crash of fire and debris as an overwhelming barrage of plasma annihilates her robot to bits. She's made it beyond the halfway point and dialed in like second nature. Innate within. She closes her eyes and dashes forward accepting her fate. Above the burning corridor in a sealed room, the commander watches the young pilot push through with ease and deactivates the test core. "She's ready sir. The command is hers to give."
  • A dream to fly amongst the stars. To set course in hopes of a new planetary discovery. Immortalized forever in a bronze sculpture for all future generations to aspire and admire... Nei. Rick causally kicks off the main thruster burn with his teeth riddled pencil and offhandedly ignites the engines to 25 percent power. A glare from the sun bursts through main viewfinder and he disgruntledly fastened the blinders to their closed position. He leans back within his chair and closes his eyes listening willingly to the steady hum of the bulkheads as they rattle against the storage racks filled with empty power cells. Toxic cells in which can only be destroyed by launching them into a dreamy, beautiful and shiny star.
  • Spooked by a premonition, the fleet suddenly darts in all directions. A calm collective mind, a steady hand and sheer luck will save your life in those times of uncertain collapse. Was the rare ore worth the lives of so many? Most pirates choose to embrace it, live it and love it.
  • The light graced the darkness revealing the clear view of a future. A future that burns the midnight oil so that the machine will continue to grind forward. A grind down to infinite particles that will cycle its way through until the end of time.
  • Upgrade 2017
  • A light above the auxiliary switch dims as Jacey reaches out but the resistance burns through her arms like a trail of razor slices through an acidic bath. Defeated, she rests her head against the cold steel bars and slides to the floor. She gently rests her head upon her bruised knees as the room depletes the last of it's power cell. It flickers off. A low hum rumbles through the ship as the gravity generator gives way to it's own life. She looks to the floor and sees it moving slowly away. "It's OK," A soft whisper pierces the silence. Jacey looks up to see her sister floating on the opposite end of the room with an arm outstretched just barely out of reach. She smiles and pulls herself closer. Jada pushes as far as she can and they grasp hands one last time. Jada smiles as the lights dim low. "It's OK. I never liked my weight anyway." The battered Starship floats through space as small green emergency beacon lights up the atmospheric gas pulsing outwards a soft glow of hope.
  • A young girl opens her eyes only to be greeted with a warm and inviting smile. A bright light flashes across her eyes. "Good morning Dr. Lewis. I trust your journey was worth the price?" An elderly woman dressed in all white slides a small needle up the girl's cheek towards her nose. She tries to move away but the titanium restraints hold her tightly in place against a cold steel table. She tries to scream but her mouth won't move. "You see, Dr. Lewis... Fear makes us witness to strange things. I too, lay on this table. Just like you now." The woman pierces the inside of the girl's nose causing her to shiver in fear. She wants to scream but her mouth still won't move. The station crests the horizon allowing a brilliant light to fill the room stopping the woman from proceeding. She retracts the needle and sees a tear fall to the steel table frosting over just as it floats away. "Enlightening isn't it? The choice to do the right thing. To make things right. Wouldn't you agree?"
  • Scraping its way across the sandy terrain, a lethal; yet perfect storm, crashed down heavily once again wreaking a course beating against the fragile surface of the blistering landscape they call home. Much like the heavy hauler of Vega, nothing could stop the power of inevitability. Like the savagery of its past, eventually this storm too will subside leaving a fresh layer to reset itself again and to purge its inhabitants of subservient delicate lifeforms. If only those beings of this blissful land could reason with the powerful storm and learn to evolve from the constant barrage of chaos, perhaps the strong could survive. They must survive. We will survive. I will.
  • Grace opens her eyes and wipes away the sand in an attempt to regain her bearings and to assess the deadly approaching horizon. A massive storm unfolds high above her and ready to pounce a crushing blow. Close by, smoke rises and wisps through the wind as fire rushes out of the transport as it weaves around multiple charred bodies. She winces in pain and screams for help but an iron rod has carved its way through her right leg and melded itself to her tattered clothes. She lay trapped amongst the twisted debris but cannot gather the strength to escape on her own. She screams again for help. A figure forms in the distance but she is no longer able to keep focus. "Please, help." She whispers as her body gives way to the sandy dunes but is quickly lifted by assuring hands. "We have to go Grace! Now!" Her body and spirit rises up as she is carried to the safety of a nearby rock crevice. Her eyes clear as she looks into her rescuer's eyes and smiles... "Daddy?"
  • Lorin rests his head against the soft red felt of the captain's chair and sips from a small flask of outlawed ale. He moves his cheek to the side as his poorly kept whiskers scratch the surface revealing a leathery insert just above the metal frame. A tear weaves through his facial shards as the broadcast comes to an abrupt end resounding a soft and soothing static noise in which he has grown accustomed. The planet surface below brews a final lethality that no one could ever subdue.

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