I plan on doing a series of short (easy to digest) posts, rather than one monster report.
Friday, February 26, 2010
report from Laughlin Nevada
Presently, I'm sitting in the convention hall at the annual UFO conference. A mixed bag of very interesting and the absurd. More to come - soon.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
UFO Disclosure Implications
The intricacies of a quandary in under four minutes.
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Thursday, February 11, 2010
Mac's voice, talking about cats
Mac Tonnies (in William Burroughs attire) with a cute toy cat. The blurry distortion in the photo is undoubtedly due to electro-magnetic interference from a yet unknown parallel dimension.Here is a short audio posting where you can compare and contrast Mac's wise insights, and my stilted ponderings about cats. This is a companion to previous posting titled Cats, Strings & Laser Pointers.
11 minutes
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audio with Mac's voice / 11 minutes
_______________________________________________________
Huge thanks to Greg Bishop & Radio Mysterioso for the audio clip from an wonderful interview with Mac earlier this year.
_______________________________________________________
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
My Pal Mac Tonnies
In his element.
This is a long posting. It is a rambling bunch of self examination about the loss of my friend. I wrote it in a sort of flurry, it is a string of details I needed to get written down. I may remove it from the blog at some point, but it feels honest.
* * *
I was driving back from a conference in California (Whitley Strieber’s DREAMLAND event in Joshua Tree) in late October of last year. This was a decidedly heady time, with a lot of intense stuff invading my life.
I stopped in Moab Utah to visit a friend, and I camped in the desert at the edge of town. The next morning I had a smoothie at a small breakfast shop, and for some reason I requested bee pollen as an extra, I had never had it before and I figured I would give it a try. Within minutes of finishing the drink, I had a very distressing allergic reaction. My face turned red, my lips puffed up, I was itchy all over and I barfed in the bathroom of the restaurant.
At no point did I feel my airway closing up, but believe me, I was one step away from driving to the emergency room. I took a benedryl, and waited for it to pass.
Right in the throws of this anaphylactic reaction, I went to visit a UFO researcher named Elaine Douglas. We had met once before, and I had spoken to her a few times on the phone. She and I talked about the research she was doing, and my ongoing weirdness. While sitting at her kitchen table, I felt progressively better. After about an hour, I felt perfectly normal. I thought I would just stop by for a short visit, but we ended up talking for multiple hours, and it was late in the afternoon when I finally said goodbye.
At that point I had a long drive in front of me, from Utah to my home in Idaho. I went into a little cafe on the main street to fill up on coffee. I also checked my email on my laptop. It was right then I found out that Mac had died. I was absolutely shocked, and I sat in the back corner of the cafe and cried.
I had talked with Mac just a week or so earlier, it was a typical conversation for us; deep, wide ranging, lots of laughs and it spiraled on late into the night.
Mac had a reverence for espresso, he wrote about it often and lovingly. I went up to the counter, and ordered a double latte short, and I savored every beautiful drop.
At that point nobody really knew how he died, but from what I could glean on-line, it was assumed to be a heart issue. Earlier in the year Mac had told me of an experience where he went to the hospital to get some sort of heart exam. This was after he had a fainting event at work. He was calm and dismissive about the whole thing, and he treated it as a nuisance.
I got in my car and started driving north. The emotional numbness was oppressive and scary. I chose to travel on the two-lane desert highways, avoiding the inhumanity of I-15 and Salt Lake City.
One of the downloads was a the three hour long Coast to Coast interview. This was particularly beautiful and bittersweet. You could hear George Noory’s voice that he was perfectly charmed and engaged talking with Mac. As silly as this sounds, you could sense his mind expanding trying to keep up with Mac’s big ideas.
During this time, alone in my car, listening to Mac’s calm and wise voice, my chest began to ache. Something was wrong, I was feeling sharp pains right behind my ribs. I have a minimal amount of first aid training, and the symptoms of cardiac arrest are severe “crushing” pain. That wasn’t what I was feeling, it was presenting as something less intense, but it was real nonetheless. I pulled into a gas station, bought an aspirin in a little foil packet, I swallowed it and hoped this wasn’t the big one.
The pain in my chest seemed related to the allergic reaction from that morning, but at the same time, it wasn’t lost on me that it could be some sort of subconscious sympathetic reaction to Mac’s death.
I got back in my car and drove off into the dark and lonely night. When I had listened to all the audio podcasts of Mac’s interviews, I started over and listened to them again.
* * *
It the weeks that followed, there was a lot of talk about the status of his final book. The story came out that there was a printed copy of the manuscript found on his desk. This document had final edits in Mac’s handwriting in the margins.
During my correspondence with Mac throughout 2009, I made it clear that I was eager to do a few illustrations for his book. Mac seemed delighted by my offer. I’ll add that he had been super supportive of my artwork since I started posting some of my drawings on-line. He would consistently comment on the cartoons, and I deeply appreciated his observant compliments.
I contacted Mac’s publisher to ask about the illustrations, it seemed that Mac had mentioned me and my offer to draw for the book, and I set about doing some initial sketches. Having a small role in Mac's book was a profound honor, and I took the responsibility seriously.
* * *
On December first 2009, I got the text of Mac's CRYPTOTERRASTRIALS book sent to me in a word document. I took it to the local copy shop, and they printed it up for me. I punched holes in the paper and put it in a 3-ring binder. At first I was a little intimidated to read it. There was something sacred, or maybe daunting about it.
A few days later I realized I needed to sit down and start reading.
I went through a sort of formal process. I made a cup of tea, got my reading glasses, turned the lamp on and sat on the couch. The binder was on the coffee table facing me. I opened the binder, turned to the very first page and just as I began looking at the opening words - I head a loud "click" from right next to me.
I looked over and my CD player had spontaneously ejected the cassette. It had done this all by itself.
That CD player is well over a decade old, and in all those years this has never happened. It seemed extremely odd. And I'm not kidding, it happened at the EXACT second that I read the very first words.
* * *
When I finally sat down at the desk to start the drawings, I was suddenly hit with that same dull but very real chest pain, just like like the night driving alone in Utah. It was centered behind my ribs and it was very difficult to ignore. It wasn’t the acute crushing pain described by cardiac arrest patients, but it was nonetheless, very real. I managed to dismiss it for over a week, hoping it would go away, but it didn’t, it stayed exactly the same. The only way I can describe it is to say it felt creepy.
Mac and I were both huge fans of R.Crumb, and I made sure to embrace that inky scratchy look as I worked on the illustrations.
Here’s how he introduced me on his Posthuman Blues site: Blog of the day: Little Boing Marks by friend and ufological co-conspirator Mike Clelland. Mike's drawings are delightful: R. Crumb meets Dr. Seuss.
The inspiration for the style and format of the illustrations for Mac’s book was lifted directly from an R.Crumb illustrated edition of THE MONKEY WRENCH GANG. Curiously, I bought this hard to find book a decade earlier, on that same Main Street in Utah.
* * *
I suffer from clinical depression, something that seems all to common with creative types like me. Throughout my life I go through cycles where I walk away from the desk and ignore my skills as an illustrator. 2009 was probably the emptiest time of my life, where I actively rejected drawing, I felt terribly barren and uninspired.
Mac’s book forced me to break through that stuck feeling. The job of sitting at my desk, with pens and pencils and ink felt wonderful. I enjoyed the act of putting little black lines on a clean white sheet of paper. Something that I thought I had lost was back again.
At no point did I feel my airway closing up, but believe me, I was one step away from driving to the emergency room. I took a benedryl, and waited for it to pass.
Right in the throws of this anaphylactic reaction, I went to visit a UFO researcher named Elaine Douglas. We had met once before, and I had spoken to her a few times on the phone. She and I talked about the research she was doing, and my ongoing weirdness. While sitting at her kitchen table, I felt progressively better. After about an hour, I felt perfectly normal. I thought I would just stop by for a short visit, but we ended up talking for multiple hours, and it was late in the afternoon when I finally said goodbye.
At that point I had a long drive in front of me, from Utah to my home in Idaho. I went into a little cafe on the main street to fill up on coffee. I also checked my email on my laptop. It was right then I found out that Mac had died. I was absolutely shocked, and I sat in the back corner of the cafe and cried.
I had talked with Mac just a week or so earlier, it was a typical conversation for us; deep, wide ranging, lots of laughs and it spiraled on late into the night.
I had simply assumed that one day I would sit in a coffee shop with Mac, we would drink espresso and talk, just like we always had. And now he was gone.
Mac had a reverence for espresso, he wrote about it often and lovingly. I went up to the counter, and ordered a double latte short, and I savored every beautiful drop.
At that point nobody really knew how he died, but from what I could glean on-line, it was assumed to be a heart issue. Earlier in the year Mac had told me of an experience where he went to the hospital to get some sort of heart exam. This was after he had a fainting event at work. He was calm and dismissive about the whole thing, and he treated it as a nuisance.
I got in my car and started driving north. The emotional numbness was oppressive and scary. I chose to travel on the two-lane desert highways, avoiding the inhumanity of I-15 and Salt Lake City.
The drive was astounding beautiful. I had a series of podcast interviews with Mac all loaded up on my iPod, and I listened to them as the sun set in a glorious display of reds and orange. The route I took home was empty and desolate, and I would go for as long as an hour without seeing another car.
One of the downloads was a the three hour long Coast to Coast interview. This was particularly beautiful and bittersweet. You could hear George Noory’s voice that he was perfectly charmed and engaged talking with Mac. As silly as this sounds, you could sense his mind expanding trying to keep up with Mac’s big ideas.
During this time, alone in my car, listening to Mac’s calm and wise voice, my chest began to ache. Something was wrong, I was feeling sharp pains right behind my ribs. I have a minimal amount of first aid training, and the symptoms of cardiac arrest are severe “crushing” pain. That wasn’t what I was feeling, it was presenting as something less intense, but it was real nonetheless. I pulled into a gas station, bought an aspirin in a little foil packet, I swallowed it and hoped this wasn’t the big one.
The pain in my chest seemed related to the allergic reaction from that morning, but at the same time, it wasn’t lost on me that it could be some sort of subconscious sympathetic reaction to Mac’s death.
I got back in my car and drove off into the dark and lonely night. When I had listened to all the audio podcasts of Mac’s interviews, I started over and listened to them again.
* * *
It the weeks that followed, there was a lot of talk about the status of his final book. The story came out that there was a printed copy of the manuscript found on his desk. This document had final edits in Mac’s handwriting in the margins.
During my correspondence with Mac throughout 2009, I made it clear that I was eager to do a few illustrations for his book. Mac seemed delighted by my offer. I’ll add that he had been super supportive of my artwork since I started posting some of my drawings on-line. He would consistently comment on the cartoons, and I deeply appreciated his observant compliments.
I contacted Mac’s publisher to ask about the illustrations, it seemed that Mac had mentioned me and my offer to draw for the book, and I set about doing some initial sketches. Having a small role in Mac's book was a profound honor, and I took the responsibility seriously.
* * *
On December first 2009, I got the text of Mac's CRYPTOTERRASTRIALS book sent to me in a word document. I took it to the local copy shop, and they printed it up for me. I punched holes in the paper and put it in a 3-ring binder. At first I was a little intimidated to read it. There was something sacred, or maybe daunting about it.
A few days later I realized I needed to sit down and start reading.
I went through a sort of formal process. I made a cup of tea, got my reading glasses, turned the lamp on and sat on the couch. The binder was on the coffee table facing me. I opened the binder, turned to the very first page and just as I began looking at the opening words - I head a loud "click" from right next to me.
I looked over and my CD player had spontaneously ejected the cassette. It had done this all by itself.
That CD player is well over a decade old, and in all those years this has never happened. It seemed extremely odd. And I'm not kidding, it happened at the EXACT second that I read the very first words.
* * *
When I finally sat down at the desk to start the drawings, I was suddenly hit with that same dull but very real chest pain, just like like the night driving alone in Utah. It was centered behind my ribs and it was very difficult to ignore. It wasn’t the acute crushing pain described by cardiac arrest patients, but it was nonetheless, very real. I managed to dismiss it for over a week, hoping it would go away, but it didn’t, it stayed exactly the same. The only way I can describe it is to say it felt creepy.
I've never had chest pain before, and it happens twice, and both times it was closely associated with Mac. One morning I woke up and the finger tips in my left hand were going numb, and I had a very distressing sensation in my left armpit.
I went to my doctor that day. My pulse and blood pressure were perfect, and I tried to describe the symptoms to the doctor. He listened carefully and was genuinely perplexed, I wasn’t showing any overt symptoms of cardiac trouble.
I also said that I thought it might be psychosomatic, because it so closely matched the death of a young friend, Mac, from heart related issues. He patiently listened, and then he said, “Let’s have a listen.”
I got up on the exam table and he listened to my heart with his stethoscope. I watched as he listened, and after a moment I could see his face make a sort of AH-HA expression. He said he heard a very specific rubbing noise that indicated pericarditis. This is a swelling and irritation of the pericardium, which is the sac that surrounds your heart. (more weirdness HERE)
He said that the treatment for pericarditis is a daily regime of anti-inflammatory medication and if I respond well, there is nothing to worry about. I started taking Aleve, and within 24 hours, all the pain was gone.
The numbness in the fingertips of my left hand continued, and it’s numb right now, as I type this. Presently it's very minor, and neither me or my doctor is concerned. It is presenting like a pinched nerve in my shoulder.
I went to my doctor that day. My pulse and blood pressure were perfect, and I tried to describe the symptoms to the doctor. He listened carefully and was genuinely perplexed, I wasn’t showing any overt symptoms of cardiac trouble.
I also said that I thought it might be psychosomatic, because it so closely matched the death of a young friend, Mac, from heart related issues. He patiently listened, and then he said, “Let’s have a listen.”
I got up on the exam table and he listened to my heart with his stethoscope. I watched as he listened, and after a moment I could see his face make a sort of AH-HA expression. He said he heard a very specific rubbing noise that indicated pericarditis. This is a swelling and irritation of the pericardium, which is the sac that surrounds your heart. (more weirdness HERE)
He said that the treatment for pericarditis is a daily regime of anti-inflammatory medication and if I respond well, there is nothing to worry about. I started taking Aleve, and within 24 hours, all the pain was gone.
The numbness in the fingertips of my left hand continued, and it’s numb right now, as I type this. Presently it's very minor, and neither me or my doctor is concerned. It is presenting like a pinched nerve in my shoulder.
Black and white chapter header for Mac's book, with lots of scratchy "R.Crumb" shadowing.
The process of doing the drawings was deeply emotional. It was, in some way, a very real form of grieving. I simply HAD to immerse myself into the creative process in a way that I usually avoid.
I over worked the drawings. I spent to much time on them, I used too many tiny lines, I got swallowed up in the minute details. I cared about these drawings in a way that felt important to me.
I over worked the drawings. I spent to much time on them, I used too many tiny lines, I got swallowed up in the minute details. I cared about these drawings in a way that felt important to me.
During our last phone call Mac told me about R.Crumb’s latest book. It was a literal interpretation of The Book of Genesis. I hadn’t heard about it, and Mac delighted in describing the funny details, he reveled in the lurid begatting and the violent smiting.
On Thursday October 22nd I saw the book in a bookstore on a tiny Main Street in the middle of Utah. I bought it immediately and I sent my last email to Mac using the wireless in the book store. I later realized later this was the day that they found Mac’s body in his apartment in Kansas City.
Mac and I were both huge fans of R.Crumb, and I made sure to embrace that inky scratchy look as I worked on the illustrations.
Here’s how he introduced me on his Posthuman Blues site: Blog of the day: Little Boing Marks by friend and ufological co-conspirator Mike Clelland. Mike's drawings are delightful: R. Crumb meets Dr. Seuss.
The inspiration for the style and format of the illustrations for Mac’s book was lifted directly from an R.Crumb illustrated edition of THE MONKEY WRENCH GANG. Curiously, I bought this hard to find book a decade earlier, on that same Main Street in Utah.
* * *
I suffer from clinical depression, something that seems all to common with creative types like me. Throughout my life I go through cycles where I walk away from the desk and ignore my skills as an illustrator. 2009 was probably the emptiest time of my life, where I actively rejected drawing, I felt terribly barren and uninspired.
Mac’s book forced me to break through that stuck feeling. The job of sitting at my desk, with pens and pencils and ink felt wonderful. I enjoyed the act of putting little black lines on a clean white sheet of paper. Something that I thought I had lost was back again.
I feel fantastically blessed that I knew Mac Tonnies. The world needed his amazing mind, and his eagerness to look deep into the unknown. It is a profound honor to know he was my friend.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
cats, strings and laser pointers
MacTonnies' cat Ebe, an acronym for Extraterrestrial Biological Entity.The very first posting on this blog (March 3rd 2009) was a short little essay that I had written up years before titled CAT & STRING. It was a nice little metaphor that attempted to articulate some of the weirdness of the UFO mystery, at least the way I see it.
The opening words of Mac Tonnies posthumous book is a short piece about his cats and a laser pointer. It was originally posted as an essay on his blog, Posthuman Blues.
I strongly encourage you to read BOTH essays before you proceed any further. They are linked HERE and HERE.
These two essays are eerily similar. If you look at the comment’s below my initial posting, you’ll see that Mac said: “Have you read my essay about cats and laser pointers? We're on the same page!”
That was the very first comment I received on this blog, on the very first posting, on the very same day as the blog went up.
Mac's other (very cute) cat, Spook.My essay was written sometime in November 2006, two months after Mac wrote his. I remember the morning I wrote it. I sat at my computer, and drank a second cup of coffee, and it simply gushed out of me in a caffeine induced flurry, I'm not kidding, it wrote itself. The text was short and tidy, and it seemed to express exactly the mysterious puzzle that plagued me.
The first thing I did, that same morning, was post this essay on Whitley Strieber’s UNKNOWNCOUNTRY message board. I have since tried to find it, but I can’t seem to dig deep enough. If it’s still there, I could figure out the exact date I wrote the thing.
The first time I ever heard of Mac Tonnies was on a really great Binnall of America interview, dated March 10th 2007 (if you haven’t heard this, it’s amazing!). This was seven months after Mac wrote his Cat & Laser Pointer essay, and five months after I wrote my Cat & String version.
I feel confident in saying that I never read Mac’s essay before writing mine.
The similarities are obvious, we are, quite literally, expressing the very same metaphoric details. It’s very funny that Mac, the self-proclaimed post-human technologist uses a laser pointer, as opposed to me, the self-proclaimed thrifty minimalist with a piece of string. Just so y’know, I am a weirdo zealot about the mystical benefits of ultra-light camping.
After listening to the (over three hour) interview with Tim Binnall, I was simply thunderstruck by the voice and ideas of Mac. It was without hesitation that I searched him out. I simply looked up his name and Missouri and called him on the phone. At the time I was involved in a documentary, and I thought he needed to be involved, and the initial phone call was to ask for an interview, but deep down - I just wanted to talk to the guy.
Among all his other gifts, Mac Tonnies was a beautiful conversationalist. We got along splendidly, and from that first phone call to his his death, we would talk on the phone often, and we would email incessantly.
During our initial correspondence, I sent Mac an email with my Cat & String essay. He replied (almost instantly, as was his nature) that he had written something similar, but with a laser pointer. I no longer have a copy of that email, but it must have been some time after March of 2007.
Mac read his Cat & Laser Pointer essay on an audio interview with Greg Bishop on Radio Mysterioso on July 27th of 2009. I am not sure that’s when I first heard it (maybe), but I later found it on his blog. This obviously struck me as very odd.
approx. 11 minutes long
My very playful cat, Spazzy.On July 29th, I asked: When did you write that Cat & Laser Pointer essay? Do you have the date? I'm curious...
Mac replied: I wrote the cat/laser piece a year or so ago -- before your cat/string piece, in case you were wondering. I'm pretty sure I wrote mine in late '06, but I'll double-check. It would be weird if we wrote our essays at the same time!
And...
A few days later Mac emailed me: I found it, and it's dated! I just searched my blog and found mine (Sep, 2006)
I can’t even begin to untangle what, if anything, all of this may mean. Mac said what I was thinking: “It would be weird if we wrote our essays at the same time!” I did a little digging, and we wrote them independently, less than two months apart. If nothing else, I have to agree, it is weird.
_______________________________________________________
It took me a while of digging, but I found the date I wrote my version on the original document, noted here.
My essay Cat and String written:
November 25, 2006
Mac's essay Cat and Laser pointer published on Post-Human Blues:
September 29, 2006
Mac's essay Cat and Laser pointer published on Post-Human Blues:
September 29, 2006
_______________________________________________________
Click HERE to see a very sweet little video of Mac's two cats, complete with endearing baby talk voice-over from Mac himself. Please know, this short clip made me cry.
And more images of Mac's cats HERE.
_______________________________________________________
Also, I made sure to include two cats in the illustration in the previous post below.
Also, I made sure to include two cats in the illustration in the previous post below.
_______________________________________________________
Audio essay with Mac's voice, dated Feb 11th 2010
_______________________________________________________
The above is a cartoon posted by Robbie Graham
on his Facebook page on Janurary 28th 2015.
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Thursday, February 4, 2010
illustrations for Mac Tonnies
Click on these images for a HI-rez view.
I was enormously fortunate to play a small role in the final book from my friend Mac Tonnies. This was a truly a powerful and bittersweet experience, forcing me to reflect on what it means to be human. I did a series of eleven illustrations, simple black & white chapter openers. As indulgent as it sounds, I am convince that Mac was in the room with me during my time at the desk with my pens.
There is a lot more to this story, and much of it is emotional and challenging. It was a very confusing way to grieve the loss of a friend. I will write more soon - when I can better articulate my mixed-up sentiments.
Anomalist books has a page up to promote Mac's book, THE CRYPTOTERRESTRIALS, this is an extremely important work by one of our great thinkers.
conversation with Anne Strieber
There is a new audio interview on Whitley Strieber's DREAMLAND (with me), it's posted in the subscriber's section, dated 1/30/2010. I talk with Anne Strieber, Whitley's wife, for about 40 minutes.I have been going to UFO conferences over the last few years, and I had the chance to talk with Anne at an event in Joshua Tree California in October of last year. We sat together for a short time, and I shared some of my experiences, and she had a lot of insights.
After the publication of COMMUNION in 1987, the Strieber's received over half a million letters where people would share their experiences. Anne claims to have read thru all of them, and in doing so, she has become a sort of data base for the extremely bizarre details that get reported by witnesses.
You will need to be a member of the DREAMLAND site to access this audio interview.
Here's an excerpt of what Anne wrote about the interview:
Subscriber Special: A Subscriber Close-Encounter Witness Tells His Story
... Anne Strieber talks with close encounter witness "Mike" about his current and ongoing encounter experiences. As our visitors focus more and more on people who are taking an active interest in them, the close encounter experience is changing. No longer does it involve only sudden appearances in the middle of the night to totally unprepared people, it also involves ongoing relationships with people who have been having encounters, often for years.____________________________________________________
These people offer a whole new narrative of contact, and represent the first ongoing experience human beings have had with entities of unknown origin that is not being turned into mythology and superstition. Listen as Mike tells you of his life and his experiences in a calm and straightforward manner. He discusses synchronicities, missing time, seeing visitors as a child, and his personal struggle to get past denial and fear and make his encounters a part of his life of value to him, not simply something to be endured in fear and confusion.
Also, early in the interview I mistakenly say 1973 when talking about the Orange Flash event, I should have said 1974.
Shortly there after I say that I received an email from Whitley where he says he is following my blog, I made a mistake, that email was in reference to following my twitter account. He did send me a note about my blog, but it was a different day. Sorry about that, I was nervous at the beginning, and I made some mistakes.
____________________________________________________
Saturday, January 30, 2010
police sketch artist
Drawn after a careful explanation from the witness. Some minor details are not exact (like the staircase in the window) but I was told that the overall image is very accurate. Click on the illustration for a HI-rez view.
___________________________________________________
I got to play the role of "police sketch artist" for Anya Briggs. She had a memory of a very odd event that took place on 17th street in Manhattan.
To read about here experience, see the short article by A.M. Murphy (here).
slightly edited excerpt:
The winter solstice (of 2007) brought what Anya believes is her first conscious contact. Standing at a crosswalk waiting for a light to change, Anya found herself face to face with (as she later wrote), "the strangest looking man sitting in the window of a Starbucks. He wasn't abnormal, for all intents and purposes he had a perfect body, like a professional swimmer's, but way bigger ... he also happened to have the longest arms and fingers on a person I've ever seen, and additionally, he was about 6'8 or 6'9 and had the most perfect posture ... Additionally he ... was holding his mug of tea very awkwardly - his elbows were sticking straight out, exactly parallel to the floor." As she watched this bizarre figure, she became certain he was "not of this earth." There was a moment of apparent mutual recognition. Then he seemed to inundate her with a new and blissful feeling that Anya describes as "universal love."
Just so you know, I have a sense of humor. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and I doodled with this illustration. Click on the small image to the left for a HI-rez view.
To read about here experience, see the short article by A.M. Murphy (here).
slightly edited excerpt:
The winter solstice (of 2007) brought what Anya believes is her first conscious contact. Standing at a crosswalk waiting for a light to change, Anya found herself face to face with (as she later wrote), "the strangest looking man sitting in the window of a Starbucks. He wasn't abnormal, for all intents and purposes he had a perfect body, like a professional swimmer's, but way bigger ... he also happened to have the longest arms and fingers on a person I've ever seen, and additionally, he was about 6'8 or 6'9 and had the most perfect posture ... Additionally he ... was holding his mug of tea very awkwardly - his elbows were sticking straight out, exactly parallel to the floor." As she watched this bizarre figure, she became certain he was "not of this earth." There was a moment of apparent mutual recognition. Then he seemed to inundate her with a new and blissful feeling that Anya describes as "universal love."
___________________________________________________
Just so you know, I have a sense of humor. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and I doodled with this illustration. Click on the small image to the left for a HI-rez view.
___________________________________________________
Text added Feb. 6th, 2010
Here is an excerpt from a comment I received last night:
Until I read the text below the drawing, I initially thought this was a picture of a tall, beefed-up Mac Tonnies, given the Starbucks and coffee context. A kind of spooky "deja vu all over again."
When I read this, I felt myself shudder. It seemed so weird. Mac worked as a barista at a series of Starbucks in Kansas City. He was a lover of coffee, and his blog is loaded with deep reverence for espresso. The bald man (despite his ubber size) looks more than a little bit like Mac. What does it mean? I have no idea, except I simply KNOW that Anya would have been totally captivated by Mac - as I was, as everybody was.
___________________________________________________
Wanna see a nice little video of Mac being charismatic in a coffee shop? Click HERE!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
mythic owl dream
Owls and Hummingbirds invade my subconscious. Point of View from my eyes. Click on the image for a HI-rez view.
I was somehow at a high school, it wasn't the school I went to - but I seem to be helping some students deal with something. It was the very last day of senior year for someone, maybe me?
I was in the passenger seat of a a classic 1970's station wagon, and we were driving to the high school at night, and there were two other people in the car with me, both sisters. Both looked very much the same, dark hair, small glasses - and I knew that they were both really smart. The older sister was driving, and the younger was in the back seat.
As we drove down the road (at night) there was a zipping flash, and a noise, near the windshield. I exclaimed, "Did we hit a bird?"
We soon realized that there was a bird in the car with us. I had a flashlight (where I got it, who knows) and I shined it in the back, and there was something flying around, and at first it was scary. But we all soon realized it was a beautiful hummingbird (and slightly larger than normal, sparrow sized). We were all delighted, and we gently managed to shoo it out the window. But, in just a few seconds, we realized that it was back in the car, it had flown back into an open window.
And looking in the back behind me, I saw an adult OWL peeking over the seat!
It was a cat-like screech owl, with the tufted ears and the big yellow eyes. My first reaction was, "Oh no! It's going to eat the hummingbird!"
But the girl in the back seat had the hummingbird safely cradled in her lap, and - by this time - the owl was actually laying down, like it was relaxing, with it's big taloned feet resting on the legs of the girl next to it. (see funny illustration)
Eventually (I'm not sure how) we got the owl out of the car, and the humming bird too. My gut was saying: "Uh-oh, the owl is a sign that something big is gunna go down."
We finally got to the school, and I remember being totally determined to talk to someone who taught comparative mythology, (or something like that) in order to make sense of the symbology of the event.
It was dawn by now, and I was told that there was a teacher who could help me, but he jogs in the morning. I watched as he was running away from the school down a long path in a desert like canyon below me, and the path seemed to be guarded by another beautiful cat-like owl (or, more likely - the same one). The path looked treacherous and steep, and I needed to find another way down. Right then, I saw that the teacher was jogging back up from the bottom of the canyon a different (safer) way. It seems someone told him I needed help.
I wake up.
Also, the two sisters looked a lot alike, and I think they were BOTH Anya Briggs.
What (if anything) does it mean?
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Why did I post this? And why did I draw the picture? I'm not sure. There was something SO overtly vivid about the dream, and I just couldn't shake it. I felt like I wouldn't get it out of my mind until I drew a picture. Also, Chris Knowles said to keep a dream log, and this one was especially intense.
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I sent this dream around to a few pals, and I got back a really interesting assortment of replies. I'll post these in the comments (below) so this posting isn't ridiculously long.
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Monday, January 18, 2010
conversation with Regan Lee
It's not easy to sum up Regan Lee, so a proper introduction is tricky. She has a lifetime of experiences that defy any simple category.
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audio conversation with Regan Lee
(if the player seems futzy, just re-load this page)
1 hour & 45 minutes
To download directly to your hard-drive, simply click on the KADOO logo (at the right) and then click on the big BUTTON labeled "Download" (easy)
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Regan has been using her skills as a writer to share and explore her experiences. And calling her prolific is sort of an understatement. She has (at last count) upwards of fifteen blogs! Her expertise includes (but not limited to) Women of Esoterica, Painting, Bigfoot, mythology, Contactees, ghosts, hauntings and UFO's. She has a degree in Folklore Studies and Language Arts.
I avoid the term interview because this is much more accurately a conversation, and lemme say that we have a really great one! We cover a lot, and she is full of insights that were downright impressive.
After I recorded our talk and we hung up, I immediately sent Regan an email stating: "Should I pay you for playing the role of my therapist?"
It's funny, we have so much in common (and some of it is downright weird) that I felt like I this was some sort of psychiatric session where I was trying to figure out what it all means. I'm not sure we come up with any good answers, but there was never a dull moment.
Her main blog (the best place to begin) is THE ORANGE ORB. Search out the other 14 blogs from this starting point.
Another good one is SAUCER SIGHTINGS, lots of personal experiences and dreams. And for Bigfoot info, FRAME 352.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
dream log and sync log
My dream notes in a tiny sketchbook. Double click for a HI-rez image.
"Here's my suggestion... keep a dream log and sync log, starting today. Keep track of your dreams and the synchronicities you observe or experience. And then see if by the end of the year the two logs haven't become one."
I thought to myself, I've already done that - It's my blog!
So here's a recent dream. I was at a high school reunion type event, it was in a bar and it seemed to be somewhere in New York City. I was in a sort of back room with some friends at a table. I see Mike Lewis walk down a hall and enter the room, and he walks right up to me.
Now, if you haven't read thru this blog, you won't know the significance of Mike Lewis (a pseudonym), read up on it HERE.
I try to start some small talk, but all I can do is blurt out: "Do you remember that night in 1974?"
Right then, he interrupts me, and talks over my words saying only: "November forth."
I try to ask him what he means, but he simply repeats himself over and over, "November forth, November forth."
I wake up.
I recognize how strange that dream is and I grab a small sketchbook near my bed and write down Nov. 4th and some notes (image above), and go back to sleep. In the morning, I try to figure out the potential significance. Was the Friday night of the Orange Flash and Missing Time November 4th 1974? It was obviously football season, and that makes sense. This was easy to check on-line, and no, that day was a Monday. Was this the Monday where Mike Lewis told me he saw, "a UFO with lights and everything?"
Maybe I'm making something out of nothing, but the least I can do is pay attention.
Will this dream merge into a synchronicity on November 4th 2010?
Will this dream merge into a synchronicity on November 4th 2010?
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Text added March 29th, 2010
Ooooops, I messed up. I made a spelling error and spell-check thought it was a different word. Do I keep the mis-spelled word in the post? Do I correct it to FOURTH?
I looked up the dictionary definition of the word FORTH. And, it reads as curiously meaningful given the context of the posting.
forth / adverb
1. out from a starting point and forward or into view : the plants will bush out, putting forth fresh shoots.
2. onward in time : from that day forth he gave me endless friendship.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Marla Frees shares thoughts on the new year
Marla Frees spoke with Whitley Strieber on a DREAMLAND New Years Day audio podcast. They spoke about what we can learn from 2009, and what we might expect in the year to come. As I listened I was struck by something she said and I transcribed it below.It really "zapped" me with it's relevance. Don't ask me how, but you put into words what I'm feeling in my gut.
The audio is free, on the UNKNOWN COUNTRY site, click on the audio link in the upper right corner. And, Marla posted a short essay on her blog titled Right Resonance, and it's about this same subject.
Here's the (slightly edited) text of what Marla said:
I am just beside myself this morning. I had the most incredible dream and I woke up with a very specific thing I want to share...
It's about frequency...
I was revealed information this morning that people have to change their frequencies, and we are going through extraordinary challenges, and we have to integrate the challenges in order to change our personal frequencies.
So, by virtue of going through the difficulties of what I went through this year, I'm a different person. I have to take that person, and share it with the world.
My frequency has been changed, it's been altered.
And I was thinking about all the people who have gone through unique things this last year, and if they do not share it, if they do not share it with their family and the world and the people that they are associated with - if they don't share that - something happens to them.
On some level, they get sick, until they recognize that their frequency has to be shared, they will be in a holding pattern, it's almost as if they have a dis-ease. Do you see what I mean by this? ...I think that is what's happening. The more that our frequencies are changing, the more that is being revealed.
Why did this "resonate" so deeply? I'm not sure, but it felt like she was talking directly to me.
This is similar to a bit that David Beidny spoke on the PARACAST. I transcribed a short quote for a posting on this blog. I'll add that David did NOT use any groovy new-age terms like frequency.
Why did this "resonate" so deeply? I'm not sure, but it felt like she was talking directly to me.
This is similar to a bit that David Beidny spoke on the PARACAST. I transcribed a short quote for a posting on this blog. I'll add that David did NOT use any groovy new-age terms like frequency.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Audio conversation with Anya Briggs
Anya Briggs is a channel. She's done a personal reading for me and I can say, with absolute conviction, that she is truly gifted psychic. My one-on-one session was super impressive, she tapped into some stuff that would have been utterly impossible for her to know. Trust me, she's the real-deal.
Plus, she's very funny.
The Metro card (in the photo) is proof of her role as a New Yorker. During our chat, my inner New Yorker reemerges and I talk faster than usual.
I recorded a conversation between Anya and myself, and we managed to get pretty goofy. If you are bold enough to actually listen, be forewarned because this ain't a typical interview. We are both quintessential artist types, and neither of us stay on topic long before we jump to some topic that's even stranger than the already strange stuff we started on. You get to hear both of us laughing - a LOT!
I've managed to do a few audio conversations for this blog, but those have a decidedly different tone. If nothing else, we're lively.
The conversation is broken into two parts.
I need to add that Anya has a set of experiences that are off the charts in their absolute bizarreness. I consider myself very open minded, and - whew - she really pushes me to try and keep up. I know that her psychic abilities are very real, and because of that I really listen as she shares her story. I also need to say that she is very brave for being so totally open with her experiences.
I recorded a conversation between Anya and myself, and we managed to get pretty goofy. If you are bold enough to actually listen, be forewarned because this ain't a typical interview. We are both quintessential artist types, and neither of us stay on topic long before we jump to some topic that's even stranger than the already strange stuff we started on. You get to hear both of us laughing - a LOT!
I've managed to do a few audio conversations for this blog, but those have a decidedly different tone. If nothing else, we're lively.
The conversation is broken into two parts.
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one hour & 20 minutes
_________________________________________Part ONE is a rambling comedy act where we chew over tons of divergent topics. We cover way too much to even try and list here. Some of it is serious, and some it ain't.
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I need to add that Anya has a set of experiences that are off the charts in their absolute bizarreness. I consider myself very open minded, and - whew - she really pushes me to try and keep up. I know that her psychic abilities are very real, and because of that I really listen as she shares her story. I also need to say that she is very brave for being so totally open with her experiences.
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57 minutes
_________________________________________Part TWO was recorded the next day, and you get to hear Anya channel from her pals from the great-beyond. The channeled content is perfectly fascinating.
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Her web-site is called Anya is a Channel.
And for a more professional interview with Anya, click HERE and scroll down to Best American Psychics with Shay, and then scroll down (again) to Dec. 17th.
And for a more professional interview with Anya, click HERE and scroll down to Best American Psychics with Shay, and then scroll down (again) to Dec. 17th.
Want more info? Here's an interview on Thumb-Tack.
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Not your run-of-the-mill psychic intuitive channeler. This photo was (obviously) NOT taken in Sedona Arizona. Wednesday, December 16, 2009
audio conversation - STALKING THE TRICKSTER with Christopher O'Brien
I love the term TRICKSTER.
It seems to perfectly describe some of the intangible experiences in my life. I know what it means in my gut, but how would you define it literally?
Christopher O’Brien has written a very intriguing book titled STALKING THE TRICKSTER where he tries to come to terms with this iconic force. The sub-title of the book is Shapeshifters, Skinwalkers, Dark Adepts and 2012.
What is the Trickster? That answer is - well - tricky.
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one hour & 23 minutes
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Audio conversation with Chistopher O'Brien.
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We have a really delightful audio conversation where we wrestle with our own personal Trickster experiences, and we try to get a hold of the slippery tail of this elusive concept. We talk about owls, helicopters, cattle mutilations, the internet, leprechauns, little people, synchronicities, Neutrogena Sun-Block and the collective unconscious.
Tricksters have inhabited our culture for millennia and this mysterious force has played pivotal roles throughout history, and they've burrowed deep inside human belief into the core of our mythic culture. But why? What are these forces? What is their agenda?
Chris sums it all up at the end of this hour and 23 minute conversation by saying, “It’s a hall of mirrors with a quicksand floor.”
True enough.
I encourage you to dig deeper at Christopher's web site, called Our-Strange-Plannet.
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Monday, December 14, 2009
listening to wolves
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| moonlight sparkles |
I deeply love sleeping outside under the stars. I just returned from a two week long winter camping trip in the mountains outside Yellowstone in Wyoming.
On one calm night, with an almost full moon, I chose to sleep outside the tent out in the middle of a lovely meadow. I stomped out a flat spot with my skis, to create a bed. It was probably 20 below zero fahrenheit, and I was zipped tight and content in my enormous winter sleeping bag.
I listened to wolves howling all night long, and they were close. It was beautiful.
The next day I skied around the edges of the meadow, and found a lot of wolf tracks. One wolf, or several, I have no idea. Some were just a few dozen yards from where I slept under the big cold deep blue sky.
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