I have a Geist relationship with the late Ida Lupino. That is to say, over the past decade or so, I’ve been feeling her Geist (energy vibes) – some times strongly.
I can’t remember when my connection to her began. I think I was doing some research on film noir celebrities, and she popped out – because she was both a movie star and a director — a woman, really a head of her time.
Civil War Veteran
I’ve been collecting “found Photos” almost as long as I’ve been investigating the Sixth Sense. Here is a photo of Alex W., a former Captain in the Army during The Civil War. I am fascinated by the history of The Civil War and how it tore our Country apart. Some times it doesn’t seem completely mended. I like this old cabinet photo.
From Zane Grey's The Mysterious Rider
“...don’t mind UFO’s and ghost stories, it’s just that I tend to give value to the storyteller rather than to the story itself” .–Robert Stack
Some things, like Ghost energies, live on and on. Take the 1948 song, “Ghost Riders in the Sky” by Stan Jones. This song pays homage to an old cowboy legend, and has been sung, over the past 64 years by story-tellers like Johnny Cash, Frankie Laine, Gene Autry and Bing Crosby (all Ghost Riders now, doing their Geist thing).
When you wish upon a star...
Just saw a recent (2011) documentary on the annual influx of precocious wanna-be-a-movie-star children to Hollywood. This parade occurs largely from January to April, which is Pilot Season for new TV shows.
The documentary, “The Hollywood Complex“, follows the lives of a dozen children and their parents, who flock to The Oakwood Apartments in North Hollywood.
A Victorian Child's Clairvoyance
Just finished a fascinating 1950′s metaphysical classic, The Boy Who Saw True. Written by Anonymous and published first in 1953, this is the story of a young Victorian boy (perhaps 10 years old) who writes down his unusual experiences in a diary. In his diary, which is some times day-to-day and later, more infrequent, he explains how he sees colors (auras) around people; gnomes and fairies, and how he is later contacted by an Elder Brother (EB) who helps him discover his extraordinary talents for Clairvoyance. At first, the boy thinks every one else can see the muddy colors surrounding people (like the family maid), but later he is told, this is extraordinary. A tutor, hired by his family, writes down the boy’s visions, and the tutor’s story becomes another story within this story. I found this book so compelling, as the boy grows older, becomes quite ill, explores the unknown, dabbles in art and music. Not only is this a fascinating look at Victorian days (pre-1900), but the famed musical composer/poet/writer/metaphysician Cyril Scott has written the Introduction, Afterword and the Notes.
The book concludes with Anonymous’ wife publishing his last diary entries (several years after his death). The book also contains notes and spelling mistakes corrected by Anonymous who re-read his diaries before he died – yet, another layer added to this many-layered book. The book shown, at top, is 248-pages long, a 3rd printing from 1969. Noted on another site as a classic Metaphysical book, you can find it on Amazon, and I urge you to do so, if you are interested in ESP, Clairvoyance, Cyril Scott, or the Victorian age.
It is hard, these days, for me to find a book I am reluctant to put down – but I was both amused and amazed by the complexity of this work: on its face, a simple diary, but underneath (or above), a detailed journey of spiritualism and self-discovery. Whether Anonymous existed in true life or in Cyril Scott’s vast creative imagination is the question left hanging. But to tell True, it matters not. The book is a literary wonder in a sea of mundane.
Afterword: Many thanks to @Missenscene for gifting me this book discovered at The Last Bookstore in downtown Los Angeles.
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* You can follow me for more insights on Twitter @Psychicchic
A Nissan Moment
There was a full moon this past weekend and the moon seemed tinted pink, likely due to the lingering cloud cover over the ocean. The moon was pale pink, the color of a salamander’s tongue and it seemed auspicious, especially because we’d just had an uncommonly good day. We’d been able to put together a purchase of a charming older Nissan compact Versa that had just been marked down on the car lot. There was an interested couple ahead of us, and, as luck would have it, neither that couple or two others that followed snapped it up with cash while we did paper work. So we ended up signing a contract first. We got the car and thanks to a cracker-jack salesman, it went smoothly, for once and would soon be in the hands of a family member who needed it.
On the way to dinner Saturday night, the day before the Nissan was to be picked up, we were driving C’s old beater car, a Chevy Malibu, (the trade-in) and C turned on the radio. We had recently picked up grandma, who is recovering from a stroke and, as she beside me, in the back seat, she was singing, “I once had a Nissan now C has a Nissan,” and so on. When, all of a sudden, after grandma quit singing, C noticed the word “Nissan” on the Malibu’s car radio screen, where the name of a band and the song playing usually goes. The radio was inexplicably tuned to a Spanish station, so C fiddled with changing the channel, ultimately deciding to put it back to the Spanish station. “You won’t believe that it just said ‘Nissan‘,” she repeated. We probably wouldn’t have believed her, since she alone had seen it, but then the word “Nissan” appeared again, and we all saw it, while the Mexican music played in the background. “This is quite strange,” I said, reflecting on the juxtaposition of a large pink moon in the sky and my elderly mother sitting in the back with me, singing about cars.
Finally, when we were seated at the restaurant for dinner, as luck would have it, a Mexican restaurant, C used her phone to search the word “Nissan” to see if there was a band by that name. No band by that name appeared. So, thinking of the pink Moon, I said, “Wouldn’t that be funny if you looked up ‘Nissan’ and it meant ‘magic’ or ‘miracle’ or ‘great good fortune.’ That was a psychicchic kind of joke, but I made it anyway, because things like that happen, from time to time.
“But it does mean miracle” C swooned, as she scrolled down her cell phone. “Nissan” has the same root of the first Hebrew month ‘Nissim’ when all good things, like miracles, happen. Some people say the name of this month is Nissan.”
Without a thought to what the other diners might be thinking, I got up from the table and did a small Happy Dance, mid-room, thanking the Universe for the Nissan and for the affirmation of cosmic intervention (via the Chevy Malibu car radio) broadcasting that small miracles are always possible, if you believe.
And so I say, Thank You, Universe, once again.
I admit it. If it weren’t for Gordon Ramsay and all of his various Food TV shows, I would have toppled over by now. The world is spinning like a wobbly top and I am tuned into those energies. Maddening! The only way I can avoid the frenzy is to watch television shows about Food. I really don’t care who “stars” in the show, hosts or cooks, so long as the main feature is food. That means, over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time perusing Rocco’s Dinner Parties and Gordon Ramsay’s hellacious kitchens. I’ve watched so many Gordon Ramsay shows, I rather feel like Gordon and I are cousins by now. But I don’t show favorites. I’ve watched Chopped and Next Food Network Star and even Sam the Kitchen Guy (although I may have mistaken him for Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs). I’m so crazy about food, I don’t even care if the TV shows are any good. Rocco’s Dinner Parties are stiff and unappealing, but, hey, so long as there are close-ups of the pork tenderloins, who cares.
The reason I can lose myself in food is that food pays attention to all 5 senses, leaving the 6th sense free to figure out who’s going to win the inevitable contest. There’s always a contest, except for Sam’s show and some times he’s contesting to see if he can reach his personal cooking or baking best. Unlike shows about hoarders or pawn stars or botoxed housewives, shows about food can be quite rapturous. Imagine dollops of caviar spooned freely on your plate, as Rocco offered at one of his parties; or 5 different versions of Gordon’s venison cooked to his Michelin Star perfection. As a sensitive, I can smell and taste the dishes without ever having to leave my couch. That’s one of the many benefits of clairvoyance, but we need not go into that here.
Suffice to say, even if you don’t care a fig about ESP, you can still lose yourself in a cooking show – and believe me, that’s a lot better than being lost in space.
The King of Food
Having moved, and totally re-arranged my life, I’ve been more silent than usual lately. The majority of my psychic and paranormal books are still packed in storage boxes. I have just a few on hand to inspire me. Watching the Science Channel’s “Through the Wormhole” has triggered a bit of energy, but not until my coincidence researching the fabulous late British Scientist, Dr. William Crookes, did I come full circle back to the signs of Psi that I experience from time to time.
Below, you will see, a box of colored glass Crookes lenses, sold by Bausch & Lomb likely around 1920. These were part of an antique optical store inventory that we bought about 12 years ago. As I began unpacking, I wandered onto these, and listed them for sale at internet auction. Before I did, I researched their origin, and learned Dr. Crookes developed colored (shaded) lenses (which heralded the development of sunglasses) because he was trying to protect the eyes of glass blowers. The eminent scientist had once blown glass in his younger days and he saw the damage the white-hot flames did to the eyes of glass-blowers (causing cataracts, for example). Using a spectroscope, he found a way to block infrared light – and some optical companies marketed them later (circa 1910-1920). But Sir Dr. Crookes, who discovered the element, Thallium, was a highly decorated scientist, who also believed in Spiritualism. Rigorously testing what he saw and heard from his own meetings with Mediums and from other observations, he staked his reputation, in the late 1800s, asserting the reality of the unexplained as coming from “outside forces.” As a result of his views, he was strongly criticized by the Scientific community and forced to tone down his opinions until later in life.
Today, the world is much more likely to remember Dr. Crookes for his contributions in chemistry, physics and even optics than his belief in the paranormal. But what a coincidence for me to unearth his story – a story I could not have retold if I hadn’t stumbled upon our small box of antique Bausch & Lomb eyeglass lenses. Certainly, it uplifts me that Dr. Crookes, a rigorous researcher, believed science should investigate Psi phenomena. And that was 140 years ago. Still waiting.
