to the chaotic and often strange life of a Quasi, Clumsy Spiritual Warrior, Dan Abernathy. This is the weekly Newsletter where I share with you my voice, be it in words, art, or my collections of oddities, fascinations, desires and obsessions. Here I will make available 98% of all my perspectives, be they fluid and random, meandering and incomplete, or things I have completed and offering. They other 2% I keep to himself, archived and a gift for the scholars and naysayers to decipher later on. This will all be delivered to you via the web, whether I am roaming the road in his converted 1991 International school bus, The Chool Bus, home in Pinedale, Wyoming or briefly hanging my hat in another dusty corner of the world.


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Click on the above sign to see the handmade jewelry created completely by Dan Abernathy from recycled and reclaimed copper. It is pounded, bent, shaped and patinaed then combined with crystals, stones and vintage objects to enhance the unique flair.


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Metal Obscure

Conceptual Design in Industrial Contemporary Bravura

Handmade metal-framed mirrors, built with a wooden frame and wrapped with metal and copper, which is then scared and aged, then a wide array of old, antique metallic objects are mounted to enhance the uniqueness.

The Chaos Newsletter

 of Dan Abernathy

Issue Number Seventeen

March 5th, 2018

The Essential Way

          A Foundation For Peace

        while conveying the 7 Elements of the Essential Way

Calmness, Compassion, Kindness, Forgiveness, Gratitude, Love and Mindfulness


  >>>  Words of Inspiration

                 >>> And the home to the Essential Reiki Session

Energy Healing, Chakra Harmonizing & Restoring Homeostasis
with Usui Reiki and Essential Oils

Book NOW for a Reiki Session that is unlike any you have had!

Chronologies, Excerpts, Fragments and Reflections!
From The Journals and murky mind of Dan Abernathy

Great Presidents, World Leaders and Sweet Tea

Story and Photos by Dan Abernathy

I had a dream, of an amazing opportunity and was invited to join some great Presidents and World Leaders as they sat visiting at a small white table, on the whitewashed porch of and old antebellum style house in an undisclosed Southern state. I spoke my thoughts and what I heard back, what they had to say, and rings as true now as it did back then, and as will into the future.


 They actually asked me what my thoughts were about peace and violence. I have to admit, they looked a bit shocked when I quickly begin a diatribe that went straight to the heart, while bypassing caution.

“We are now, and have been exposed to so much violence and blood shed that we have become accustomed to it,” I began. “We no longer turn and look the other way from gore and violence. It wasn’t always like this, it as a gradual change, but when people started looking, the visuals expanded and spread like wild fire. In the old black and white films of days gone by we never saw bullet holes or blood. Now it has become the norm for blood to splatter the screen and as depicted in Quintan Tarriteno movies, humans now carry about three gallons of blood. Even the video games have moved from Pack Man eating dots, to our youth in control of life-like humans killing each other with massive bloodshed and carnage the norm.”

Read The Complete Story


Click here for the Index to more interested fables, excursions and stories from the wandering and often murky mind of Dan Abernathy

Story Index

An Owl Remorse - Forgivness

Story by Dan Abernathy - Photographs by Arnie Brokling

Growing up in the era and location that I did, I wasn’t doing anything that any other rural boy wouldn’t do. I was eleven or twelve years old and most weekends would find me exploring the foothills behind my parent’s house, wearing a small knapsack on my back and carrying an old bolt-action 22 rifle in my hand. The mission … rabbits; the reason was to be in the wilds of nature. I would shoot a

few rabbits, but hunting was really secondary. Being alone in the woods, this was the adventure.

   Walking back home in the dusk of the evening, something happened that would impact me for the rest of my life. I remember coming out of the hills to the hay fields that were adjacent to home and supper. I leaned my rifle against a fencepost and with care, I crawled through the barbed wire, careful not to catch my pants, as my mother had warned me often. Mom was tired of patching my jeans with three corner rips in them.


Read the rest of the story and view more Gray Owl photographs

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In this issue of the Chaos Newsletter,  the Oral Art of the Spoken Word, brings more stimulating words from Jonah Howell.


Please click through, you will enjoy these words and if you have a stanza or two, submit your poetry for possible publication. Submission details are inside this section.

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