Heart of Clouds

(for Walter Halsey Davis, of SB Writers Conference, my teacher)

by Adrienne D. Wilson – adapting her novel Heart of Clouds for film.


Teenie while pie is baking and filling the apt. with scent, goes to the bathroom mirror, thinking of the boy who left her the abalone shell. She recalls the other teen girls at school, talking about pretty, and putting on make-up.


(asking mirror)

What is pretty? Is it like that abalone shell and all the colors that he left for me?

Devlin is the first boy she has ever thought about, on this cusp of her 14th year.

She goes to her bedroom, after trying on a bit of lipgloss, and wondering. Sitting crosslegged on her bed, she takes out her notebook again and draws a picture of the pie, while waiting.

She writes a note to leave at the driftwood hut, as if Devlin is an imaginary friend.

Close in on her hand and handwriting:

boy of the dunes

boy who was running like a wild horse

boy who wears plaid shirts and flannel

boy who I wish was my friend

what can I do to make you see me like I’m pretty?


Teenie what are you doing in there


Just writing Mom, I’m waiting for the pie to cool


It looks nice honey


Mom, I told Mr. Honeygarten I would take him some


That’s nice of you Teenie


He’s a really nice man


I know he is honey


Can you help me cut him a piece


Come on, let’s cut a piece of that beautiful pie and taste it

Teenie runs to her mother’s side and hugs her tightly


I love you Mom, I really do


(tenderly smoothing back her daughter’s hair)

I know you do


I just want you to feel better Mommy

Teenie and her mother taste the pie, then wrap a piece in waxed paper for Mr. Honeygarten.


Teenie rides her bike through the village to his house. Melloman greets her at the fence, tail wagging and barking around, sniffing her hands carrying the pie.



Mello, it’s not for you but maybe you can taste some

Mr. Honeygarten waves at her from a second floor window with old fashioned lace



(calling down to her)

Teenie dear whatever do you have in that basket


(smiling up at him)

The pie! You knew I’d be bringing it


Well, I was hoping so my dear. It isn’t often that I get to have such a wonderful piece of pie, now is it? come in and let’s have a seat in the parlor.

Mr. Honeygarten goes to his special china cabinet and takes out a beautiful tea set with old fashioned flowers and gilded rims. The silver had different fairies carved on the handles, a gift from his grandmother when he had been a boy.


Oh what a lovely piece of pie that is my dear. I’ll just put the kettle on for tea, dear and you serve the pie why don’t you?

Teenie carefully arranges the tea set, and slices the pie.

*this pin from my “pleinairella” storyboard space on Pinterest for Mr. Honeygarten style. Formal, Victorian, a gentleman, the tea set. I have props for the teaspoons.

Teenie and Mr. Honeygarten settle in comfort to have pie and tea.


Mr. Honeygarten?


Yes, my dear


Am I pretty?


Why Teenie whatever makes you ask that?


Am I?


Why of course you are my dear


Are you sure?


Why, Teenie I do believe what I can see with my own two eyes, dear


(sigh of relief)

Oh good


(kind eyes, smiling, close in)

Why on earth would you ask such a question?


Well, I just wasn’t sure whether I was or not


Well you are dear, and prettiness is something women grow into. It takes a very long time, by the way. I suppose you are just at the beginning of that rather long journey, yourself.

Mr. Honeygarten and Teenie sit sipping the tea. Silence, as they taste the pie.


Is there a boy, my dear? Is there a boy involved in all of this asking about prettiness?


(utterly blushing)

There is


You know my dear, when I was a boy, there was a certain girl I thought was the most beautiful girl in the world. Her name was Claire.

*the character Claire is based on the looks in the image above. It is from very old Hollywood, Mary Pickford.

*to page 39 in my novel, the chapter is Secret Smile


Heart of Clouds

by Adrienne D. Wilson

Adaptation chapter 4

Apple and Feather

(for Walter Halsey Davis, of the SB Writers Conference, my teacher)


(Teenie sighs in frustration)

Takes apples from the basket one by one, thinking of her father and better times. She rummages through the kitchen trying to find what she needs for the pie. Draws a list up, in her notebook. Close in on her hands with the apples, startling red and green. She shines one on her jeans, it glistens like a ruby.

(in handwriting)

we close in on her handwriting what she needs for the pie


(we see Teenie and Jax baking a pie together, he teaches her to cut the apples, they fall into flower shapes, smiling and laughing. Close in on his face, full of love for his daughter.


Mom do you feel like helping me?



No, honey, I don’t




Teenie I am trying to watch the news


But, Mom…


(sharply, angrily)



Another species just went extinct, Teenie

The Wave is on its way now


Mom can we just make this pie together



Teenie and her parents having to move, throwing everything out, including all her childhood toys, FOR SALE sign on the house


What are we going to do, Jax



(Teenie whispers to the apples)

I just want to make the pie Mom. I just want things to be normal again.

Teenie begins to cut the apples into flowers, while her mother sits wrapped in grey on the sofa, eyes glued to the television, she makes the pie, rolling out the crust, shaping it for Mr. Honeygarten. The apartment kitchen has such a sad atmosphere she can barely breathe. She touches a golden locket, her father’s picture inside. Close in as her hand opens it, heart shaped. Smiles at his face.


(Devlin, puzzled, at her note, wonders how he can answer)


Devlin and his father, and his grandparents at the funeral for his mother.

*location SB Cemetary at Butterfly Beach

A plain pine coffin, flowers. Close in on all their faces. Devlin’s father with his arm around the boy. Tears. Devin stoic.



How am I supposed to answer a question like that

Maybe she cries in private like I do

Devlin takes off down the beach running – long shot as we pan, seabirds scattering before him. His arms are outstreched like a birds wings, almost a dance against the waves near his castles, where the red tails roost. We see them against the sky twirling and gliding, riding the currents.

Devlin’s castle at Loon

(Devlin finds a feather)


(screams into the wind)

This is who I am. I’m going to leave this for her.


(Devlin smiling)

He pockets her note, and the origami bird, smooths the sand around the abalone shell, and replaces the stones in a stack. He scoops sand in the shell, and places the feather there for her. We see him walking through the waves, in his jeans pant legs wet to the knees, in the seafoam.

(to page 32, in my book)

Heart of Clouds screenplay

by Adrienne Wilson

adaptation from my novel, chapter three

(for Walter Halsey Davis)


Teenie sits in the hut, marveling at the abalone shell, and her origami bird, while a seal dips and dives in the waves, watching her. She draws a little puffy cumulus cloud shape with a heart inside, and the words, “Who are you?” for Devlin, thinking of the boy, and that he must have left the beautiful shell. She decides to leave this for him, in a stone stack, and we see her combing the beach to find three stones, then carefully tucking the note and tucking it under the second stone.


Teenie rides her bike through village on way to Mr. Honeygarten’s Victorian to ask for apples. Mellowman, his Golden Retriever barks and clowns around at the old picket fence in happiness to see her again.


(smiling and petting his head, through the fence)

Mello, Mello, Mello

A jay comes to a screeching landing on the old fence, looking for peanuts near them.


Mr. Honeygarten are you there?


(calls down to her, from a window)

Just a minute dear, let me get my staff

Well hello, Teenie, How very nice to see you again

Mr. Honeygarten I was wondering if I might be able to have some of those apples on your trees. I want to make a pie.

(We close in on his eyes, crinkling at the corners, face breaking into a warm smile)


You do? I see. Well suppose you help me pick them, I seem to have plenty to spare this year.


I want to share it with you Mr. Honeygarten


Oh my, I haven’t had an apple pie for a very long time


Neither have I. Not since Dad left.


You must miss him very much Teenie


I do, every single day


Well let me see, we’ll need a basket and a ladder. How about if you go around to the garden shed and collect those for us and I’ll meet you by the trees.


Teenie enters the shed, full of all the old seed packages and clay pots and tools and almanacs Mr. Honeygarten had collected over the years, brushing cobwebs aside, to get to the trug and ladder. Swallow’s nests cling to the eaves outside. She and Mr. Honeygarten both make their way to the trees, with Mellowman at his side.


(eyes follow a red tail hawk circling overhead, as he makes his way through the tangled grasses to his trees)

Melloman, look!

(dog’s eyes follow the bird)


Teenie picks twenty of the apples, and carries the basket to his porch, returns ladder to the shed.


Will you have some tea dear?


Can I make the pie first?


All right. Why don’t you take that old basket with you?


Thank you Mr. Honeygarten, I’ll be back this afternoon. I hope the pie will cheer Mom up.

MONTAGE (flashback)

Teenie’s parents Jax and Christina are seen dancing at a potluck at “The Village Crier” the town’s newspaper, during happy times. We see a “For Sale” sign on the shuttered building. Teenie rides through the village, looking up at her old house.


Mom, I have apples! You should see them.


(pulls blankets up around her, wan smile from the couch. The TV news blaring on and on about climate change and animals going extinct)


I’m going to make pie!


Devlin at dunes, approaches the hut, sees Teenie’s footprints on the sand. Sandpipers and gulls flurry along the beach. Pulls harmonica from his pocket and practices blowing out some tunes. A huge gull perches on the seahut.


Too much plastic in the sea right now, it’s not good for you.

Devlin climbs into hut, and sees the Origami bird and the shell, and the three stacked stones Teenie left him. He finds her note.



“Who am I” How am I ever going to explain that to her?

Heart of Clouds screenplay

one of the props, for this chapter – Devlin finds a shell for Teenie

Heart of Clouds



Devlin Underwood is seen combing the beach looking for a shell. He finds the perfect abalone wedged in the rocks to leave for Teenie, hoping she will come back. He scoops a tiny hollow in the sand, and places her origami bird inside, as if it is swimming in a sea of beauty.


(whispers softly)

Maybe she’ll be back.

EXT. VILLAGE. AFTERNOON (Fall light, golden)

Teenie is seen walking home through the village, back to the dismal apartment. She passes ripening apples, the turning leaves of sycamores, passes Mr. Honeygarden’s old Victorian house and sees all the ripening apples hanging like jewels from the trees. She wants to cheer her mother up, by making a pie.


Teenie enters through a rickety kitchen door.


Mom remember that pie I made one time?

Christina Alexander answers wanly from her tired perch in the living room, soaked in blue grey light. She hasn’t moved all day.


I do.


Can I make another one someday?


Sure, honey.


Mr. Honeygarten’s garden has lots of apples, Mom. Maybe I could help him pick some.


Okay, but you be careful if you go up on the ladder.

Mr. Honeygarten is a very old man that lives at the end of a lane in a Victorian surrounded by ancient apple trees he planted. Tumbling roses line his picket fence. Teenie knows him as a friend in passing, as he always gives her little bunches of flowers from his tangled garden. His has a formality that dates from the early 1900’s, style is antiques from that period. He is a father figure, filling in for her absentee father. *Importance of character is here.

an apple I shot in Summerland, tree is gone now unforch, but idea of how that would look


I could ask him, Mom, tomorrow


All right


We could share the pie with him


No, Teenie, I don’t feel like having him over


(sighs, audibly in frustration, voice trails off)


INT. DEVLIN’S GRANPARENTS HOUSE. KITCHEN (glossy warm beautiful light, golden)

Devlin’s grandmother is bustling about the warm kitchen fixing Dev’s favorite dinner. The kitchen is large, very old fashioned in a Craftsman type atmosphere, full of pots and pans and pottery vessels. Think stained glass warmth in the design, houseplants. Devlin’s grandparents are 1971 era grandparents, not hippies, just the warmth of the era. Stricken with grief over the loss of their daughter in law, and for their son and his child, they are determined to help the boy in this time of great loss. Making his favorite meal, barbecued chicken and baked beans with cornbread and a big salad. His grandmother has made a giant chocolate cake. The salad greens are from Devlin’s grandfather’s garden. Naturalism and simplicity.

*Importance of characters Grandma and Grandpa Jess is here

props I have for the kitchen, Grandpa and Grandma Jess pottery objects made by Grandma Jess


What did you do today, son?


Worked on the hut.


How’s it coming along?


Almost done.


Your dad called.


He did?


He wondered how you were getting along.


Tell him I’m fine, Grandpa.


Are you Devlin?


I miss mom a lot.


I know you do, son.

JESS pulls an old ukulele out from a pine hutch and begins to strum it.  He hands it to Devlin.


I found this old thing out in the garage. It was mine when I was a boy.


You played that?


(his eyes are twinkling and smiling)

I think that’s how I won your grandmother’s heart. That, or my old harmonica.


(peals of rich laughter float from her)

I really don’t think you need to give that boy any ideas, Jess.

JESS hands DEVLIN an old HOHNER harmonica, as he smiles at his wife.  DEVLIN blows into it, but it just squeaks a little.


(smiles warmly at her grandson)

Practice makes perfect, Devlin. Practice makes perfect, and we all know that. The two of you ought to have supper now.

The old oval pine dining table groans with the largesse of the dinner, and we see the centerpiece made of pumpkins and russet fall leaves, as they move to light the candles, Devlin smiles.



No reason every day can’t be a celebration, Devlin


Teenie washes face and brushes teeth before the mirror, looks at herself, on the cusp of fourteen wondering if she is pretty. She tries different hairstyles, getting ready to ask Mr. Honeygarten for the apples. Her mother comes by the opened door, and sees Teenie applying a little tube of lip gloss.


Don’t be vain, Teenie. Pretty is as pretty does.

Teenie’s face falls, from smile to sadness. Her mother had given her the lipgloss not long before. Other girls at school discuss prettiness at bathroom mirrors. She had wanted to be like them. We see her choosing what to wear, baggy faded jeans and a sweater from her closet. Her mother returns to her perch on the couch in from of the TV.


Bye Mom. I’ll be back with the apples, and then we can do the pie.

Teenie rides a bike through the village, a rusty fat tire girl’s bike with a basket. She is heading back to the beach and the sea hut. She parks it and walks down to a brilliant morning full of fresh seaweed. A seal bobs and drifts in the waves barking at her, the driftwood hut in the distance. Teenie falls to her knees in the sand at the sight of her origami bird inside the abalone shell, wondering who might have done that. Devlin is standing watching her high on a dune, and she sees him, the wind ruffling his sandy curls. She calls out to him, but he bolts. Teenie holds the shell to the sunlight, like a brilliant jewel.


(whispering to herself)

He must have done this. he must have left this here for me.

HEART OF CLOUDS – Screenplay

I loved the sound, and the images of the wildflowers, in this.

This is the cover I designed from one of my images of the sea, at Summerland.

It’s a children’s book I wrote in 2009, at the Santa Barbara Writers Conference when I was studying under Walter Halsey Davis. I spent the years 2005 to 2019 with him and sadly he has passed. The film is for him. It was a book to film, as Walter told me it could be done that way. So, all the internals for the characters are in the novel, itself. That is available here: https://www.scribd.com/book/267783895/Heart-of-Clouds.

I’m using my WordPress blog, because I can edit easily here, and since I believe in Fine Actors and their craft, and improvisation, we can add or change lines, as needed with great ease. So, the format may not be perfect. It would also be easy for actors to come to the blog with comments. I wrote the film to be shot on a dime, on location here in Summerland and Carpinteria, as the setting for the film, as a young teen story in the era that is 1971. Those areas have not changed much, with time, and many location shots are easily had. So, here goes, and wish me luck. I will go chapter by chapter.


by Adrienne Wilson

for Walter Halsey Davis

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye”

—————— Antoine de Saint-Exupery

EXT. BEACH. MORNING (Sunny, Clear, Fall light)

Sweeping oceanic theme in the sound, piano music, from above, we pan down a long beach, from overhead. A young girl, running, as if away from home. Teenie Alexander is on the cusp of fourteen, she wants to escape from home, plans on running away. Her father has gone away to look for work, she is crying, slowly approaches a massive driftwood hut on the beach and curls up inside it, with her journal, and pen, gifts from her father.


Teenie’s father Jax is going to leave in the morning, south to leave for work, he is middle aged, her parents have been fighting since they have both been fired. In low light, we see father and daughter, emotional, tears.


Daddy, don’t go.


Honey, you know I don’t want to, but I have to. We need the money.


(hugging him tightly, as he brushes back her hair, dries her tears with his shirt)


I got you something honey.


(corners of a smile begin)


(pulls from the pocket of his jacket a beautiful paper journal and pen for her)

Teenie you have a heart made of clouds, you know that?


I do?


(gruffly, holding back tears)

Never forget that, okay?

Never lose that little twinkle in your eye.


(in awe at the beauty of the journal he picked for her, and the special pen)

Thank you, Daddy.


(exiting her room)

Sleep tight, now.

INT. MORNING. GREY APARTMENT (Blue sad, faded light, grey tones)

Christina Alexander middle aged, sits on a couch surrounded by pill bottles doctors have prescribed to treat her for depression. She is so stoned on the pills that all she can do is huddle wrapped in blankets and watching TV while the news drones on and on about climate change. Scenes play out of a tidal wave over and over and over. She doesn’t even know that Teenie has left the apartment. Her eyes are faded with grief. We close in on the blankness of her face, removed from life, removed from the world. Their house has been sold and the money is gone. She hasn’t heard from Jax in months.


Teenie curls herself into a ball in the hut, wrapping her sweater around her, pulls her journal and pen from her sweater pocket, to try and write. She is sad, thinking of her father’s absence. It’s been months since she has heard from him. She looks out to sea, and marvels at whoever built the hut. Its strength.



Maybe I could just live here, forever. Maybe whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

She runs the sand over and over like an hourglass through her palm.

(says loudly, to the sea)

I miss you, Dad.

Teenie scans the beach for signs of life, and watches as pelicans appear, in a line over the waves. In the midst of her sad feelings, suddenly on the horizon out over the islands a large cloud appears in the shape of a heart, as if by magic.



I love you, Dad

I love my Dad, I love my Dad,

She says, thinking he must have sent it. Close in on her face with a few salty tears, she watches the cloud and draws it before it dissipates, in the journal her father gave her. A boy has been watching the whole time from behind a dune, as it is Devlin Underwood who has been building it on the beach for himself as a fort. He’s on the cusp of fifteen.

Devlin watches her draw in the journal and then tear a page from it, a heart of clouds. Like a guardian he watches her from afar. He understands sadness, as his mother has passed away recently. He watches Teenie cry too. Devlin wonders if she is sad for the same reason he is. He watches her fold a tiny Origami bird and then she tucks it in the rafters of the hut, the note to her father. He watches as she climbs from the hut and walks the beach back to the village. When she is out of sight behind a fold in the cliffs, he climbs into the hut and sees the tiny bird in the rafters.


(says softly)

I should leave something here for her.

MONTAGE images of Devlin and his father with books, on the shore, building things.

(can be shown with photographs, stills of the actors) as a flashback. Devlin misses his father, he had to drop him off with his grandparents in the village after his mother passed and now he has had to adjust to a new life in a new town, 1000 miles from where he grew up.

We see Devlin combing the beach to look for a shell to leave the girl he saw crying.

(says softly, as he climbs the rocks, close in on his face)

Maybe she could be a friend.


Looking back at old work, poems written as my nom de plume, because i may start writing again, maybe… been some time since this one from 2016.

I was thinking how much is in my old blog, and I have no idea why I can only see it in Google, not duck duck. There are thousands of words and things in that blog. When I first entered the web I did that under a nom de plume, because I was established as that all the way back to 2002.

I want to record the poems for Spotify because WordPress will let me do that. I used to do readings on Soundcloud but this makes it really easy to just record. ❤ I can no longer see behind the scenes of my old blog Valentine Bonnaire, and I wish WordPress would understand that it is me!

I love WP. ❤ I do.

Nothing could be better for a writer.

Trying a test! (poem)

Yesterday in FB I found a very old poem of mine, written when I was being published for my things at ERWA and Cleansheets, so it is genre. I am going to try and use the google translators on it too! I wrote it in 2004, and it was picked up by some friends who were really superb poets who published it in a chapbook they were doing. It’s a poem about women and men. So I was able to find the link, yesterday. http://www.geocities.ws/pj_nights/bonnairehs.html

“homo spiritualis”


My editors john e and PJ published it in some chapbooks they were doing. 2004.

here it is, again – copyright 2022 by me, as me.

I am going to try a test using the google translators, even though I think I know WordPress is Open Source and so the page can get run through a translator I think. So, two people I know in FB made comments about this poem and my old friend the poet john e did a version of my voice reading it over in soundcloud, so there is a link here, for that – he is a poet and used to be my editor at ERWA, but this was a totally cool collab to see what he did with it. Poets never know how they sound to others you know? We just don’t. That is over here. https://soundcloud.com/johnjohn_era/homo-spiritualis but it occurred to me that I can do readings and put them in Spotify myself. So this poem is about an era in time that had ancient art. The art can be seen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yU1bEmq_pf0 – this scholar was very important to me when I was a grad student at Pacifica.

homo spiritualis

i went to this lecture & the man said
                “we just have to evolve, you know”
the gist of the whole thing involved the fact that we
since caves, have been homo sapiens
& that now, faced with war, extinction & floods, food shortages &
well maybe there is no time like the present

& this is where i need your hand, brother
’cause if i could just lie down next to you
like the sort of fertile crescent i once was
where i had no thought of harm
                    no thought of exploitation
we’d go back a long, long way

we’d move backwards through corridors of time
back, back, to the time before the fall
to some kind of agrarian meadow
’cause we’re all so tired, so tired

& these roles have gotten just so twisttangled
the man said “you know, in 30 years, nobody, nobody is going to be
from the disaster that is coming, not even those in a monastery”

& he said you know? “we all have to evolve together into a new
he said the time for homo sapiens was gone
& that this was the time for homo spiritualis
& i think he was right

& this starts in a bedroom between genders
                look, look, look there was an age Catal Huyuk
before these wars, you just forgot, my brother & so did i

there was a time i planted peacefully
it was a time of wheat, of loaves & grain
            & tribe was what counted, our tribe

this was before the invasions
before the burials with coin, this was before the spear & killing
the villages were round, they were breast-shaped
& in the art, well there were grain goddesses
& from their vulvas, sweetly pouring
                grains. sheaves & you

nestled between flush lips
        you tell me boy? what happened to our tribe?
i want to lie with you on the banks of the ganges again
curled inside of arms that were made for safekeeping
want the press of that wand, hardcurved up my thigh

want the old gods, the ones plotinus spoke about
because you know, he tried to describe that
    & plotinus was the last philosopher before organized religion
& he saw only light

& boy let me tell you
i know we have one spirit
            & that is peaceful lovingkindness
you know you’ve got the same thing as mine, same hearts
help me boy, help me brother
        it’s eden i want, the paradise of your arms

& this starts in a bedroom between genders
                look, look, look there was an age Catal Huyuk
before these wars, you just forgot, my brother & so did i

© 2004 by Valentina Bonnaire

Ecopsychology #Diagnostics #Genogram

So, I want to talk about the way I am using all I was taught up at Pacifica Graduate Institute in tandem with experiences as an Intern on a case by case basis. But since we are all stuck in this miasma of year 2022, why not do the research and try and figure out a treatment plan that is for the WEB. What I am most interested in, is when kids have access to the WEB itself, so we are using the genogram for that, and then using concepts from Depth and Ecopsychology. So back to the timeline with Academic questions, and proofs.

So, looking at the history of the computer via Wikipedia.

Using this date along the genogram.


So from personal experience working at a newspaper, in the 1980’s, by the late 80’s we are all familiar with computer systems and they are part of our jobs. My guess is that the men have them for “toys” at home? That can afford them. Across the entire globe. So in glancing through the above article, for me 1995 is the year I actually buy one. I will use it to learn to write papers and it is pretty simple. This is the first one I ever saw that was “Fun” and in the Art Department of the paper, so 1984, and it was an Apple, with fun fonts and things.

So let’s assume that many Dads work with them, in the year that is 1984, and they are being used at home for “fun” by parents? But what year do the kids start using them.

Let’s talk about the father’s childhood, in say, 1964, versus the child born into this world at 1984. Of course Dad will teach his kids how to use one? How much access to information did they have? Was it too much, for someone so young? That is how we want to think about this. Just as a diagnostic.

From the Wikipedia ”

In 2001, 125 million personal computers were shipped in comparison to 48,000 in 1977. More than 500 million PCs were in use in 2002 and one billion personal computers had been sold worldwide since mid-1970s till this time. Of the latter figure, 75 percent were professional or work related, while the rest sold for personal or home use. About 81.5 percent of PCs shipped had been desktop computers, 16.4 percent laptops and 2.1 percent servers. United States had received 38.8 percent (394 million) of the computers shipped, Europe 25 percent and 11.7 percent had gone to Asia-Pacific region, the fastest-growing market as of 2002.[73] Almost half of all the households in Western Europe had a personal computer and a computer could be found in 40 percent of homes in United Kingdom, compared with only 13 percent in 1985.[74] The third quarter of 2008 marked the first time laptops outsold desktop PCs in the United States.[75]

As of June 2008, the number of personal computers worldwide in use hit one billion. Mature markets like the United States, Western Europe and Japan accounted for 58 percent of the worldwide installed PCs. About 180 million PCs (16 percent of the existing installed base) were expected to be replaced and 35 million to be dumped into landfill in 2008. The whole installed base grew 12 percent annually.[76][77]

I am very concerned about the kids, so let’s watch a video. This is a mother talking about losing her son in the teen years. I want to trace the timeline of how the DSM changed.

So we are going to look at the Wiki on what her son was diagnosed with, and we are going to look at the criteria for.

We can see that 1995 is a key date so questions along that timeline really matter. How many young kids (especially boys) were medicated. This was one of my teachers up at Pacifica on all that.

So as I looked at the pictures of the emo heart, and because I was an Art & Narrative modality when working with kids in the years 1996—-2003, at Family Service Agency and other places here in town, and because I have many concerns about what might have happened to an entire generation?

The timeline is prescient, because at WordPress, the founder was born in 1984. The thing for me, is that I was never a tech wizard like all of you. So you are the kids of those fathers, in 1984 and on down the line. I have looked at a few vids of the metaverse concept, and that is the world being created. By your generation. You are really smart, and “logos” is what all of you have in spades.

So the childhoods of 1984, along this line:

1922————————————–1984——1994 (cognition age ten)– 2022

What 1994 looked like, for the little kids who were 10 that year.


So over the course I have been designing something as an intervention, I have looked at news stories, and various other sources to help design something to treat and help people. Using techniques from Art & Narrative Therapy, but for a web application. I suppose I need a patent for that? So I am going to use screenshots to back up my work in the blog, as it is research as I am going. In many of the blog posts where I was doing assessments in my old blog, the links are not there, just “blanks.” I am pretty worried right now for humanity. So I just read an abstract, here, and I am most worried about the kids in this immense amount of isolation they are in. Things I am worried about? Suicidal Ideation (in the youth) and Impulsivity as a reaction to the stress. Let me show you what that looks like via youtubes.

One of the reasons I have the greatest respect for Matt Mullenweg and WordPress is because he built this as a container, for writers. So, I’m going to show a few things today, as relate to what I know from Depth Psychology as relates to the use of a Genogram and Treatment Planner. I also want to talk from a standpoint of Ecopsychology.

So that genogram again, only visually this time:

Years 1922———————————————————————–2022

I don’t want to see broken links, again. The way the web is constantly being scrubbed is not a good thing. I first noticed that when I was writing about politics a few years ago in my old blog. So writing about what i have my MA in? Well you will see me link to the Wikipedia and many other sources, including news stories. My diagnostic skills. When you are becoming a therapist, especially from the school I went to? I was trained by the very best. Gen Z cannot recognize the level of impulsivity it might have. Because it is inside of a generation. When history marches on, as it will, a generation can look “back” at things and know itself.

I want to talk a little about how I came up with my theory. It was in my internship for Family Service Agency. In California, we are to do internships of 3,000 hours. It was really hard to get an internship, in the first place, and so, what we have is a way to discuss cases, around a table. The intern therapists brought in a case study of a client, and there were supervisors, from Clinical Psychology and also Psychiatry who supervised us. So, all of my papers are something I am looking back at now, and also remembering things that happened. But what I want Matt to know, I really mean this, is that I know I can trust him. So, I was “non-paid” for beyond the 3,000 hours that began in 1995 – 2003, and I did my hours while I was working for a newspaper. Those years of my life were so hard, my god. There is more to say about Medical Ethics, out of me, but Senator Grassley went after ethics around Meds, and I really love that, because, once the consulting psychiatrist told me she was putting two year olds on Prozac? Well, we are now many years forward from that time.

As you can see above, the “Criteria For” Impulsivity has changed over time.

Let’s look at what Senator Grassley did.

That research I was writing up in my old blog?

I just want to say bless all of you to ma.tt and to WordPress, for what all of you created, for this world.

I think we are going to have to use a reverse medical model to be able to diagnose, and treat. Because if in 1998, two year olds are being put on Prozac and many, many other things? We are looking at Gen Z. My thesis is very simple, and I am very worried for the kids. When I say that? I just mean, I am worried for the era they have lived. So, In a post 9/11 climate they were very, very young. It is very possible that they were overmedicated, so very early. Then they came of age, and all the things available to adults also became available to them. The kinds of news stories that we see about locking dogs and babies in cars under sweltering heat? They might not have the “cognition” to understand what they are doing. So it is very scary. But we are going to make a treatment plan here, and it can be used as a new treatment paradigm. In the web itself. I swore to the oath of Hippocrates when I graduated. I meant that. ❤