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"The part we ignore…may contain the clue to the whole subject." ~ J. Allen Hynek

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Childhood Memories:Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

I wrote this piece about a childhood memory for my Trickster Realm’s column at Tim Binnall’s Binnall of America back in 2007.

 

I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.

I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.

Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.

Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.

The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.

Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)

I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.

Another Synchronicty between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can’t ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.

The Wolf as Totem

I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.

But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.

Puppet Symbology and Invisibility

It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.

Invisible Aliens

In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I’ve had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.

There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, — or us to protect ourselves — as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.

(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)

Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?

I wonder if I’ll ever know.

 

South Hills, Eugene OR Chevron UFO

triangelsouthhills
Chevron UFO, South Hills Eugene, OR, ink, charcoal and marker on paper

Around 1989. Husband was driving, mother-in-law and myself in the car. We were in the south hills in Eugene, Oregon, on our way to my husband’s cousin’s house for dinner. (We were about half a mile from the house.) It was getting on dark but still light. “Dusk.” We all saw it at once, pulled over a bit and stopped to looks. Way down below us was a huge chevron shaped UFO (for lack of a better term) with large brilliant white lights all around the triangle, or boomerang shaped object.

We asked each other: “What is that?” and watched it for a couple of minutes. It seemed to be slowly turning in place. We all agreed it was strange. Not a blimp, plane, etc. Nothing like any of us had seen. My mother-in-law was a pretty practical and skeptical person, and she was at a loss for words.

Whatever it was, who knows. Although this area of Lane County is known as a mini-hot-spot for UfOs, and, in fact, there was another incident at my husband’s cousin’s house involving a UFO and a related psychic episode.

So, who knows.

Another UFO sighting in Eugene.

Master Cylinder Heater Entity

One odd thing about this childhood home: whenever I think about it, which isn’t too often, I remember my bedroom as being on the second floor.

We didn’t have a second floor. It was a one story house.

I had a couple of strange memories from living in that house in L.A. (Bedford Dr.) and with both memories, I remember being on the second floor. One memory is of the “Master Cylinder Heater.” I was frightened to death, seeing this thing in my bedroom. It was very tall, robotic, gray and black and a bit of glowing red, with thin ribbon type things floating out from its sides. It was not a good thing.

Years later, when thinking of this, I naturally assumed it was a dream, mixed up with a heater either in my bedroom or somewhere in the house. I described this thing to my mother about ten years ago — she told me there was no such thing like that anywhere in the house.

cylinder
Master Cylinder-Heater Entity, Ink, charcoal on paper

I really need to redo this. The cylinder was wider, but still tall, and the ribbons or whatever they were were different colors, like pale greens and yellows and pinks, as well as black and gray.

I wrote about this encounter in my Trickster’s Realm column on Tim Binnall’s site, Binnall of America (BOA.):

12.7.9


The Cylinder Alien Heater

I’ve been experimenting recently with intent in context of retrieving the vague parts of memories of various UFO events in my life. Two things that I keep coming back to is the idea of dreams and memories. “Dreams” that I only call dreams because we all know such things don’t really happen, yet I don’t recall any other dreams from childhood. Those have receded into the past. Only two have followed me into adulthood, bumping against my consciousness with persistence, insisting they did happen just as I thought — not dreamt. 

One such memory is of what I’ve always called the breathing radiator. Unlike the usual dream — where you know it’s a dream, no matter how weird — this, like a few others that fall in this category, is not a dream, but a solid and definite memory.

This memory of the breathing radiator is of a cylindrical heater, about six feet in height or so, dull silver colored in my bedroom. At the time, we lived on Bedford Street in Los Angeles, California, a few blocks from the house we moved to a couple years later and lived in until my mother sold it when I was in my twenties. (At that house I experienced all kinds of UFO experiences, as well as the house we lived in before the Bedford house. That house, on Corning Street, was just a few blocks away as well. It seems that neighborhood, near the West L.A., Culver City area, was an attractant for UFO activity.) I hated to go to sleep in the bedroom on Bedford because I knew that when the lights went out the silver thing would come for me. I remember night after night of watching this thing move across the room, towards my bed, telling me telepathically to be quiet.

I had always assumed this thing was a heater. The cylinder stood by itself; not in a wall or closet but out in the room. It had a grilled plate in the front, glowing lights, and colored ribbons that moved when the air from within came on. I recently asked my mother if there was anything like that in my room on Bedford, she told me she couldn’t remember but didn’t think so; she agreed it would have been an odd kind of thing to have in a bedroom.

I don’t associate this weird cylinder as having anything to do with UFOs but it’s always felt like it has. Like my childhood eagle “dream” and patio alien with the glowing red eyes, this memory of the cylinder entity was always in the box labeled in thick black letters: “UFO Stuff — You Know It!”

As anyone who’s experienced UFOs, Fortean or paranormal knows, synchronicity and the Trickster show up when we explore our esoteric experiences. Out of curiosity, I did a Google search for “Bedford street, Los Angeles, California” and the first item that came up was a real estate listing for the house I lived in as a child! There were a couple dozen photographs of the house, but, no silver cylinder “alien” radiator.

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Stuart Davis: Aliens and Artists

Stuart Davis was last night’s guest on Coast to Coast; George Knapp hosting. I had not heard of Davis before. A fantastic interview! Different, and yet . . . a lot of what was discussed seemed familiar.

Davis has had his own experiences in the metaphysical-high-strangeness-UFO realm, including encounters with Mantids (praying mantis entities.)  His encounters include many moments of synchronicity.

Aside from Davis’s experiences, he has apodcast: Aliens and Artists.   Davis explores the relationship between artists, UFO etc. expedites, and the creative expressions.

I really think this is one path to follow in order to get closer to some understanding of the phenomena.

One thing Davis talked about was that moment when we’re meditating, or relaxed, maybe going to sleep but still awake — those in between moments — and we are consciously (or, sometimes not so much) inviting non-human energies into our space. “They” seem to know when we are open, and vulnerable. I’ve had a few of these drop-in visitors while in this state.

One was very silly. I was doing an experiment with a friend of mine who has had a life long experience with UFOs, aliens, and all kinds of high strangeness episodes. Her children and spouse have as well. So for awhile, we were trying to send each other images. It didn’t work, not for either of us. But, what did pop into my mind was the typical gray, except he/she/it had a balloon type head. Very cartoonish. It was like the thing was laughing at me. It was very Trickster like; wouldn’t go away, kept coming back. The harder I tried to get rid of it the more it stuck around.

Now, I’m not suggesting this was literally a Balloon Clown Alien from Outer Space. Just that in my in betwixt and between state, with intent, energies morphed and appeared. They could have been from my subconscious: me thinking deep down this whole thing was silly and I shouldn’t try. Or, not. Or, something in between, a bit of this, a bit of that.

balloonhead copy
Balloon Head Alien-Grey, colored pencil, ink on paper,

And then these travelers:

Photo on 8-23-18 at 10.56 AM
Amethyst Third Eye Meditation and Travelers, pencil on paper

Where I was meditating with amethyst and focusing on my third eye. (I’ve had many psychic and entity episodes while using crystals as a conduit.)

And of course, my obsession with the Orange Orb — that UFO I and my spouse saw years ago. We also had missing time with that sighting.

orbs in space
Orange Orbs, oil pastel on paper

This past March or April, right when the lockdown began because of the Corona virus, I suddenly began drawing “tall whites” and white, orange entities, sometimes emerging from orbs:

3tallwhites
Tall Whites, oil pastel on paper

Not exactly like the grays — which I’ve “seen” in various encounters – so I don’t know where these tall whites came from. Just playing around during the whole social isolation phase.

And so on. Many more: drawings from childhood memories, UFO sightings, random “mind postcards” like the green warty man/entity, a drawing I’ve been working on.

 

 

 

 

Orange Orb on Black

Nothing to report, just playing around with oil pastels on black paper, something I’ve been wanting to try for sometime. So here’s the latest version of the Orange Orb.

 

Photo on 6-21-20 at 8.56 PM
Orange Orb on Lorane Highway, Eugene, Oregon 1980s

Visitors Through the Window

Sometimes entities are almost shapeless, and it’s not clear what they are. Aliens; UFO occupants? Elementals, astral visitors, ghosts, etc? From my childhood, memories of beings, coming through the doors, the windows . . .

 

visitors3
Visitors #3, oil pastel on paper

Unsolicited Advice: New to U.F.O. / Paranormal/Cryptid Stuff?

Well, there’s Google. Go for it. No shame, and yes, you’ll find yourself tumbling  down the rabbit hole, but, we all find ourselves there at some point or another. So just know that will happen.

Remember books? Library, bookstores, used and new. Problem is, often libraries have scant and skewed selections. For the most part, libraries don’t take such things seriously. And bookstores — the chain ones — are more about popular topics that sell, than offering books on the meat of the matter. Used bookstores are often better, simply depending on the opinions of the owner. I’ve found some great books in second hand bookstores.  Just depends.

Library sales, that’s another source, as Goodwill and other thrift stores. You have to look in all kinds of categories. St. Vinnie’s, at least in my area, really does a good job of placing books according to genre. Goodwill, not so much. Look in not only “paranormal” sections but science, religion, folklore…

eBay, Amazon, and Etsy. You never know.

Don’t give up.

And of course there’s social media, like Facebook, Twitter, etc. Search, lurk, read, ask. Don’t be afraid to ask. Just develop a bit of a thick skin, because there are some know it alls who won’t hesitate for a moment to tell you what’s good, what’s bad, and if you don’t take their advice, you’re a moron.

Blogs. Blogs might be — I hear tell — going out of style, but I will not accept that. Then again, I am the Queen of the Fortean Blogosphere. I have so many blogs, I forget about some of them for awhile. (Most recent, my UFO-Mary blog on blogspot.com) But there is a lot of great info and art and personal narratives and book lists and history that you could easily spend a whole day pursuing such information.

Sure, I have my own list of books that a person new to the field should read. But, while of course I think it’s an important list, it’s just my opinion. Point is, read what you can, when you can, ask questions, don’t entertain trolls (they still exist, even though the 1990’s are over) and think for yourself. Make up your own. mind. And know that your mind will, hopefully, change many times along the way, as you gather more information.

The really only important point is this: staying stuck on a theory is death. Be willing to change, to morph, to evolve. Don’t be afraid to question. And be brave enough to ignore the trolls and debunkers who will try anything — anything — to shut you up if you decide to share your own experience.

Orange Orb Over Lorane Highway

enhanced orb
Glowing Orange Orb Over Lorane Highway, digitally enhanced  acrylic on canvas

Interesting how playing around with images and moving away from the original intent can convey the feeling of an event better than what you started out with. I really like this image; did not like the original painting much. I was trying to capture the impact, the suddenness of the appearance of the orange orb seen decades ago in Eugene, Oregon. But the original painting didn’t do that, and, it was pretty much a “meh” kind of painting.  After playing around with the image on the computer, I really like the looks of this image. Even though the white foreground gives the appearance of snow, possibly and the actual landscape was green, dark and woodsy, this conveys the emotional feeling much better.

 

Childhood Memory: Invisible Aliens

childhoodaliens
My Childhood Invisible Aliens, oil pastel, pencil, ink on paper

This is a rendering of the front door entryway of my childhood home in Los Angeles, California. When I was little, I would wait for my “friends” — beings, barely seen, that would come to me as I waited in my bed at night. They would float me out the hall door to the front door, where I would “dance” with them before they floated me out through the front door and place me high up in the large fir tree in our neighbor’s front yard. There, I’d wait for the ship to arrive, where I’d go off with them. Except, I barely remember seeing the aliens — they were there, but barely visible. And after the ship’s arrival, I don’t remember anything after that. Just sitting in the tree, feeling very excited, and looking at the incredible sparkling stars in the Prussian blue sky.

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