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Again Begin

Did you know I'm an artist?

I drew before I could write and I still draw down onto paper my observations, visions…

I draw upon my life and experience.

Being an asthmatic child and adult.

Of dying when I was seventeen.

I forgot my family and had to be reintroduced to them and the world.

Of being an orderly tending the sick, applying CPR on over 114 people, of caring for the dead.

Finding love, of losing it and finding it again, of the gift of a beautiful son and daughter…

To that end and a new beginning, I have begun a monthly extended graphic novel around the central drive of my life to help make the world better.

To point to an open door where our better angels wait for us all.

Again Begin is a journey to the central problem in the world the human race.

It has been a story I've worked on for the past 40 years.

Personal disasters, failures aside, I have turned over this story many times as I lay myself to sleep each night.

In light of the times, in the light of dim direction, plainly no light at all going on in some heads we give the title leader, I will bring to revelation this tale of science fiction wrapped around an ancient parable to stir our genetic memory.

A new myth…

Thank you, Joseph Campbell.

Below is a page exclusive to this website from issue number one of Again Begin available through all the outlets of ebooks as well as a printed version at Amazon.com



refugees, Daniel J Frey, Forces Film
Forces Film, Again Begin

Man In Black

pin, Daniel J Frey, Forces Film

I’ve been asked why I always wear black. Here’s the answer…

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,

Why you never see bright colors on my back,

And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.

Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.


I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,

Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,

I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,

But is there because he's a victim of the times.


I wear the black for those who never read,

Or listened to the words that Jesus said,

About the road to happiness through love and charity,

Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.


Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,

In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,

But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,

Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.


I wear it for the sick and lonely old,

For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,

I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,

Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.


And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,

Believen' that the Lord was on their side,

I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,

Believen' that we all were on their side.


Well, there's things that never will be right I know,

And things need changin' everywhere you go,

But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,

You'll never see me wear a suit of white.


Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,

And tell the world that everything's OK,

But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,


'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

      Johnny Cash

Can’t say it any better.





Forces Film, Again Begin


Warner Road, Toluca Lake, CA, Daniel J Frey, Forces Film

It was a hot spring evening in Hollywood.

I had just settled down to watch the Maher when a call interrupted my weekly dose of reality.

It was a dame.

It's all ways a dame.

She was crying, didn't know where else to turn, she needed my help.

I told her to pull herself together, hit the John, get dried out.

I know just what she needed.

It was me.

I got my tools, I took everything, you never know what you're going to need you know?

I told my roommate, my day walker nephew who was pacing back and forth on the balcony learning his lines I was going out.

Out onto the 101, the Ventura Freeway over to a forgotten corner of tinsel town.

Toluca Lake.

I pulled up outside of a row of shacks.

Leftover vintage bungalows where old man Warner use to warehouse his talent.

I took my tools and casually made my way to the scene of the crime.

There it was, a big ugly lump laying across a table, bits and pieces strewn about with no intelligent regard.

I turned the lump over, noted what I had to do.

I could hear the young woman still crying in her hovel as I went to work on the monstrosity.

I hammered that son of a bitch over and over again.

I felt a set of pleading eyes burn a hole in the back of the neck.

It was the dame standing in the doorway, her voice on lockdown.

Would the lump crack?

Then snap!

The monster was free, it was finished.

The dame called me her hero.

Seems she sculpted a monster head, her mold was stuck together.

Her naiveté and my expertise made some horror romance that night.

Lucky the neighbors didn't call the cops on us for all the hammering.

As I got into my car, the dame's lipstick still hot on my cheek, I looked over at the Warner water tower.

In my rearview mirror, I could see Universal by the light of the full moon.

I wiped the good sweat from my face and smiled.

Monster making in Hollywood.



Visit the dame at KateFreysfx.com

Forces Film, Again Begin