This is an excerpt from my next book entitled "Metaphor Man" All contents Copyright 2011 By Tai-Pan Development and Thomas W. Byxbe.

As I start each day, I have a thousand tasks upon my mind. I begin attentive to the repetitive daily chores I face. When I perform my obligations faithfully, I derive actualization by stockpiling the potential energy I create, both physically and mentally, to make a consistent result of these mind numbing tasks.

I live by the adage that a clean and organized space creates and enforces a clear, tidy, fresh, disinfected mind and thought process. Our brain is a convoluted, multi-entangled composite of our practical experience and emotional hypersensitivity. 

A creative mind must have a balance of inspired, considered, seasoned, introspective thought ,integrated with inventive, artistic, creative reasoning. The mind of man is predisposed to render positions of turmoil, chaos and disorientation in the name of creative thinking. Often this process is really an excuse for mental apathy and emotional laziness.

As humans we begin at an early age to indoctrinate ourselves that we can hide our souls from others. This is the basis of the melancholy lives so many people lead. If we truly want to be rich like so many people dream of we must accept that the richness of life has nothing to do with the monetary wealth and collection of expensive toys and tools. This truth is convoluted by a lack of mental and physical discipline.

We have been misled by television to believe we can obtain success by simply wandering causally unplanned, or recklessly through the world around us. This is not truth! The truth is, life is difficult and success is the journey not a destination. By accepting the falsehood we find our hearts and emotions tempered, cured and encrusted to prevent our deepest feelings from being damaged. But the truth is that they are damaged by this hoarding of emotional sensation.

To improve the condition and quality of our life we must strive to improve the state of our experience, ethical, spiritual and we must be receptive to bonding likeness and association with others.  It is this connection that most people shield themselves from. Not only must we connect with others but, with ourselves, and do it with unity, brotherhood, and love. It is the natural state of our soul, intellect, and consciousness to desire expansion of our understanding, reasoning, creativity and intellectual powers.

It is not the natural state of our being to confine, detach, seclude, or be divided.

Our natural state includes, but is not limited to; honor, fidelity, respect, confidence, candor, loyalty, courage, and honesty. To think and to learn is our natural state. Our souls are to be tempered with trust, acceptance, truth, conviction, and worthiness.

It is a part of our natural state to feel, but not be incapacitated by dread, panic, timidity, worry and concern. These sensations must be applied not with cowardliness but with self-respect and humility. There is no dishonor in fear unless it creates emotional disconnection.

Life is not to be treated with carelessness, recklessness, or in a hap-hazard manner. We seek knowledge, maturity, and caution, in our natural state of growth and self-advancement. We are designed to be dynamic, efficient, purposeful, and eager students of life. In our natural state, life is an exercise in which we learn, earn, and collect a vast array of opportunities. In our natural state we desire lessons which teach us zealously, boundaries and limits. We seek to face events with bravery. It is in our destiny to act fearless and confident, not timid.

In our natural state we seek for our life lessons to be only filled with happiness, cheer, laughter, and glee. If this was true there would be no pain in our natural state. Without pain we would have no measure of pleasure to balance our lives. We must not harden our hearts to this because there is a normal balance in our natural state. Our natural state is one of giving and receiving and good and bad with an open spirit. We should treat this as an opportunity not a punishment.

We must strive to live true, exact, candid and honest lives. It is our natural state to be learning and growing right up to our last breath on earth.



This is an excerpt from my next book entitled "Metaphor Man" All contents Copyright 2011 By Tai-Pan Development and Thomas W. Byxbe

Intaglio [in-tal-yoh]

a design, figure, or ornamentation carved, engraved, or etched into the surface of the material used

I wonder what life’s intaglio that is etched into my mind looks like.  What might life’s design carved below the surface of my memories be? Is it abstract patterns or layers of circles or arches of wide bold lines? I imagine my mind with thousands of layers, each resulting from life events. Each episode carved by the physical and mental depths impressed upon it.

Each incident of life has a profound effect on past, present, and future experiences. The intaglio, a representation likened to the brush stroke of a renaissance master. Each pass imparting details based on the response and interaction of mental concepts.

Life’s gift of mental blueprints act, and interact to impart, inoculate, and cultivate a broaden horizon of concepts, ideas, and experiences. Layer upon layer of intensely etched impressions define our souls. Each emotion interacting with the intaglio of past and the resulting design, compounds with an ever increasing layers of intricacy.

It seems as a life could best be represented in metaphorical designs. The graphic representation colored, magnified, and at times distorted. As years go by and life’s memories compound with a careful touch of scrutiny. I envision an intaglio with all types of etched patterns that start from before physical birth in mother’s womb. I see patterns that without extension would leave us raving, demented and mad. But when viewed in their entirety pass on a concept that changes not only my perspective but upon the cosmic consciousness of all mankind.

The patterns have etched interwoven revelations and intricate interaction that is a never ending map of the mind. I am feeling like a masterpiece in progress and I know my expressions of my intaglio are an artistic blessing of my life.



This is an excerpt from my next book entitled "Metaphor Man" All contents Copyright 2011 By Tai-Pan Development and Thomas W. Byxbe


Once again I find myself captured in a place I never speak of, a place of emotional canyons, plains, and mountains. How I arrive here, I realize is not by choice, but by reality. This is a journey one must make alone. Like all such places it is dark, dank, and cold. I travel to this place of never-ending fear. No one can ever find this exact place but me. No matter how many words I use, or how colorful those words are, or what descriptors I use – no one but me can experience this place that is all mine alone.

This place is where the trees of emotion are stripped bare, as the winter of life forces their leaves to blow off and into maelstrom of life’s minutiae. My spirit wears the armor of age and experience, yet I suffer from the body blows of life. While exploring this never ending space, sometimes I trip and fall down a mine shaft of even darker emotions, which tax my intellect, reasoning, and determination. Here the poltergeists of panic, anxiety, despair, and doubt, cause chaos to the very fabric of my life.

My life fabric is woven from a myriad of emotion. Each emotion is but a color of thread in the rainbow of life. It is not the colors that the rainbow holds that cause me anxiety, dread, suspicion, and hesitation, but the shadows the light upon the rainbows casts. These shadows score, arrange, and orchestrate the dissident notes of the dark drama called life. Each year of life balances this composition of darkness with self-control, harmony, and stability, like sweet notes of fortitude and moderation. My life is like a grand opera of pantomime or a musical of drama. I balance the yin and yang, the light and dark, like a novel written to express the completeness of life.

Even though I am a romantic by nature, still this iconic dark place maintains a space impenetrable by hope. This is a truly dark zone where only shadows walk on the pavement of my life. Every once in a while I find a glowing ember from the fire of reality, and I gather the kindling of life to warm my soul with boldness and courage.

I am asked repeatedly where this place is located, what this morass of inky darkness is called. I fear answering because by speaking the name others will be forced to live with my workshop of horrors.

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This is an excerpt from my next book entitled "Metaphor Man" All contents Copyright 2011 By Tai-Pan Development and Thomas W. Byxbe


It was 4 AM when I awoke. The ink of night shadowing any detail as I glanced out the window, even the moon and stars had been stained by the darkness. I stood and felt the ache, discomfort, and wretchedness from too many years of injustice upon my body. This is a sensation that I had become apathetic to whenever I would wake. Pain is relative. If I choose to allow this level of discomfort to overwhelm my mind, and masquerade as pain, then I deserve to experience it as such. I have little room in my life for self-pity. I choose to perceive such perceptions as a reminder of the intensity of my younger days.

I start to trek to the bathroom with the balance of a toddler’s first steps. Quickly I train my body to find my personal tipping point and quickly regain my years of control. The light is on as I enter and I shield my eyes until I can force them to adjust. I relieve myself and cross to the sink to wash my hands like my mother had so patiently trained me so many decades ago.

As I wash myself my eyes drift to the face looking at me from the mirror. At first I think that someone has played a cruel trick on me. The moment I saw the reflection I was confused. I did not see the man of youthfulness I envisioned myself to be. It was as if the bathroom mirror was replaced with a warped reflection of a cruel reality I likened to a fun-house mirror. I looked at the funny old man in the mirror as the caverns of my mind begin to fill with a distorted sound of a defective midway calliope. The warped, invective sound was reverberating from the mental canyons of past memories. Slowly I pulled myself back from the drowning echoes of what I hope is a dream. I laugh at myself as I find that this is reality and I have grown wise but wrinkled from the forced march called life.

The man in the mirror makes faces at me as if taunting me for the years of physical disrespect I have shown him. The reflection asking me “are you laughing now?” Was the joke on me? What would happen to me if I was suddenly to reverse the years to try an alternate reality? What would the reflection look like then? Would that face show happiness, love, and the thoughtfulness of a sage? Would this alternate reality even be a life anything like the present?

I turn and shut off the light, sending the man in the mirror into obsidian darkness, and I laughingly ask the man in the mirror, “How do you like me now?”


Our Sites - my First Flash Animation

This is my first flash animation. Each web site is a click-able link and they rotate on a timer. I am proud of it. It is like a "First Born Child." I now see why web designers fall in love with flash's abilities to display concepts and ideas.


Apple non-support of USB webcams and cameras

There are some Mac models that come with a built-in camera - if you have one of those, you’re golden, at least until the camera malfunctions or you want higher resolution. But if you didn’t get a built-in camera, or for whatever reason you want to use any typical off-the-shelf webcam, you will find that Apple’s support for webcams sucks.

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