After an intense few months balancing ordinary life with this enormous project, I am delighted to announce that we have reached an important milestone—one that opens the door to the detailed analysis needed to reconstruct the framework Emily Trim developed during the years preceding her passing.
I have now indexed 475 individual pieces of Emily’s work, drawn from 843 Instagram posts. Emily often reposted notes and illustrations after adding new material, making it possible in some cases to track how a page evolved over time. This has proved particularly valuable because it reveals a methodical process: details were progressively added to highly technical concepts in ways that appear to demonstrate a systemic understanding beyond what most laypeople would possess.
The indexing has so far concentrated mainly on what I call the notebook era: a series of pages Emily uploaded during the COVID-19 pandemic. Some are intensely personal, while others are highly technical and difficult to understand at first glance—certainly for me, and probably for most readers.
What initially looks like a collection of scribbled notes and unrelated terms begins, under closer examination, to reveal something structured and coherent. In my view, it probably conveys a message of which Emily herself may not have been fully conscious.
At the beginning of this project, I had the ambitious aim of proving beyond reasonable doubt that Emily was interacting through thought alone with a non-human intelligence, perhaps of the kind she encountered at Ariel School in 1994. Having now examined much more of the material, I no longer believe that this is a realistic or necessary objective.
In the present climate, demonstrating communication with a non-human intelligence would require exceptionally strong evidence. Ideally, Emily would have needed to publish a specific scientific fact before it appeared in the scientific literature or wider media. Some details come tantalisingly close. The corpus contains, for example, suggestive references relating to the increasing number of known moons around Saturn. However, careful timeline checks show that these details were posted after the relevant discoveries had already been reported. They may still be interesting, but they cannot establish the source of Emily’s knowledge.
A more realistic objective is to document the corpus properly and make it available to the public and to specialists across the many disciplines it touches. That will be the purpose of the book: to tell Emily’s story, explain my role as curator and analyst, and present both the underlying evidence and an honest interpretation of it.
I will use all the experience and skill I have in presenting evidence to make the strongest case I can, but the final interpretation will not be mine to impose. Readers should be able to walk through the material themselves and decide what it means to them.
I am not easily persuaded, nor am I inclined to accept extraordinary claims without examining the evidence for myself. Although I have explored only part of Emily’s work, I am already convinced that the corpus is a genuine phenomenon—whatever its ultimate origin may be.
Its repeated connections, symbolic consistency and underlying construction extend far beyond the simple collection of ideas from books or the internet. The work displays an extraordinary degree of creativity, intelligence and knowledge, assembled coherently across hundreds of illustrations over time. My own conclusion is that Emily received knowledge from somewhere beyond her ordinary understanding. She appears to have grasped the symbolic framework, but perhaps not the complete meaning of everything she was recording. She drew it nevertheless.
Through studying her work, I have developed enormous admiration and affection for a woman I never met. Emily possessed a magnificent mind and, by every indication, a remarkable spirit. Her death was a profound loss—not only to those who knew and loved her, but to everyone who might learn from what she left behind.
Emily believed this work was important and intended to publish it. I believe her message deserves to be explored and shared. That is the purpose of this project and, ultimately, the book I hope to write.
The Method
The next phase is a long process of analysis and refinement—one that would ordinarily require a substantial team of researchers. Over the coming weeks, I will use the latest large language models (LLMs) to analyse the placement of terms and symbols throughout the corpus. A word or symbol that appears meaningless in isolation may acquire a more precise function through the company it repeatedly keeps.
LLMs make this scale of work possible, provided their limitations are understood. They will make mistakes, particularly when counting symbols or interpreting their precise placement, but absolute numerical accuracy is not essential during the exploratory stage. The immediate aim is to identify broad patterns: which ideas cluster together most frequently, and which known systems or processes those combinations most closely resemble.
Beginning with the most frequently recurring terms, we can identify what each piece of the puzzle may represent. Every interpretation can then be set alongside the others, tested against new evidence and revised whenever necessary. It is a continuous process of refinement.
If the corpus is genuinely coherent, this method should gradually reveal a consistent account with few, if any, fundamental contradictions. From that account, we may eventually understand its central message. Some elements, however, may be only partly intelligible within today’s scientific literature, and completing the work properly is likely to take years.
An Emerging Message
What I am beginning to see is already different from what I expected at the outset. I once imagined that the corpus might contain a technological blueprint or a revolutionary scientific theory. Instead, it appears to be primarily conceptual.
It does not simply provide answers. Rather, it directs us towards particular questions, repeatedly signposting areas associated with theoretical physics and other speculative frontiers of science. Its purpose may be less to explain reality than to indicate where we should be looking: not a completed map, but a series of nudges in potentially fruitful directions.
There is also a more emotionally difficult dimension. A number of illustrations posted in 2021 appear to contain recurring references to cancer and its treatment. I do not yet know how these relate to the timeline of Emily’s diagnosis, and I am not suggesting that the corpus contains a cure. The material may be directing attention towards a medical process, or it may be using a process at one scale to explain something occurring at another. That distinction requires careful investigation. Given the disease that ultimately took Emily from us, these references deserve to be examined with particular sensitivity and rigour.
Faith and Discernment
There is an important theological dimension to this project. Emily was a Christian with a Salvation Army background, while I was raised Catholic and remain a Christian. That inevitably introduces a degree of caution. Christianity teaches discernment when we encounter apparent signs or knowledge whose source is uncertain, and the question of what—if anything—lies behind Emily’s work cannot simply be ignored. If an external intelligence were involved, what was it? Could it be trusted? Could its source ultimately be God? These are questions, not conclusions.
At the same time, the ethical message emerging from the corpus appears consistent with central teachings shared by Christianity and many other religions: that humanity is fundamentally one; that we must love and respect one another; and that harming another is, in a deeper sense, also harming ourselves. Environmental stewardship—the responsibility to protect the world entrusted to us—is another persistent theme.
I therefore approach the work with both openness and discernment. I believe God created us with free will, individuality, reason and curiosity—not merely the capacity to accept, but also the responsibility to question and explore. For me, investigating Emily’s work is an exercise of those gifts: an attempt to understand what is present, where it may have come from and what greater message it might contain.
Communication and Scientific Engagement
I created the Ontological Reality page long before this investigation began, but Project Resonance has now effectively become its purpose. This is a substantial, long-term commitment, and I am not pursuing it for attention. As Emily herself often said, I am not a guru. I am not presenting a new ideology or telling anyone what to believe; I am examining evidence and following where it appears to lead.
My X account therefore follows scientists rather than concentrating on the UFO community. Their work sometimes illuminates something I have encountered in the corpus, and scientists are ultimately among the people I hope this research will reach. I do not expect them to accept its proposed origins. I ask only that, once the material has been properly documented and refined, they consider its ideas on their own merits. It may offer no finished answers—perhaps only a conceptual nudge that becomes useful when viewed alongside a problem in their own field.
This creates a genuine dilemma. The complete analysis may take years, yet occasionally I uncover something that feels important enough to share immediately. I then question whether releasing isolated findings without their supporting data weakens the eventual work or gives away conclusions reached through considerable effort. At the same time, if the corpus contains a signpost towards something beneficial, withholding it for years carries its own moral weight. That tension is why I sometimes publish, reconsider and delete posts.
I understand that, without access to the evidence, some observers may dismiss the project—or me. All I can offer at present is my background: more than twenty years in law enforcement, including intelligence work, where recognising significant patterns within complex data was one of my strengths. That does not make my conclusions automatically correct, but it explains why I take what I am seeing seriously.
If a suitably qualified scientist is genuinely curious, particularly in one of the specialist fields touched by the corpus, I would consider privately sharing a limited, relevant sample for independent assessment. One potentially important area concerns biological approaches to cancer treatment—not because I claim the corpus contains a cure, but because the connections it draws appear sufficiently developed to deserve expert scrutiny. Even a conclusion that the underlying science is already known would be informative, because the way those ideas were assembled may itself be significant.
Commitment and Responsibility
The project will continue, and I will provide updates on its progress and direction. I am fully committed to seeing it through—not only because of the work already invested, but because I believe Emily and the children of Ariel School experienced something genuinely extraordinary. What happened at Ariel was a phenomenon; I increasingly suspect that Emily’s subsequent body of work may prove equally remarkable.
Completing the project will take time. I must balance it with family life and the ordinary necessity of living well—something Emily’s work itself reminds us not to neglect. Although the research is absorbing and deeply rewarding, finding a healthier balance will inevitably extend the timetable. That is acceptable. The intention remains to finish it properly.
As the project becomes more serious, so does the need to involve Emily’s family or estate. There may eventually be legal and practical matters to address, but my principal concern is personal and ethical. I would much rather undertake this work with someone close to Emily who can understand what I am doing and be assured that my intention is neither exploitation nor appropriation.
That distinction matters because Emily’s own posts suggest that she sometimes felt exploited by people who reduced her experience to questions about UFOs or attempted to impose their interpretations upon it. Emily had lived through the experience, reflected upon it and reached her own conclusions. She invited others to find whatever personal meaning they could, but she did not want her voice replaced by someone else’s narrative. This project must respect that boundary.
My motivation is simple: Emily believed her work carried an important message and wanted to share it, but her life was cut short. I believe that message deserves to be examined, preserved and presented with care. For as long as I am able, I intend to help carry it forward.
If you are a member of Emily Trim’s family or represent her estate, please contact me on X. I will also make respectful efforts to reach you through other appropriate channels. Above all, I want you to understand the nature of the project, to know that Emily’s dignity and wishes will remain central to it, and to be assured that nothing I publish is intended to cause distress to those who knew and loved her.
In the meantime, the work continues.