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

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poetry

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.

 

 

 

 

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.

While Self-Isolating . . .

I’ve been very creative lately. Not so much writing about things strange and weird, but a lot of prose. And, drawing. Here’s a cartoon I did, inspired by the news that animals are coming forth while humans stay inside.

 

cityseamonster.jpg

 

Most of us have been feeling lost, surreal, — I won’t say “bored” because, at least for me, that’s not it. Listlessness. It’s response to trauma, because that is what this is for all of us. This is traumatic.

corvids ennui copy.jpg

A balance between allowing ourselves to do what we need to do for ourselves during this time, and not sinking into pure despair:

corvids snap out of it.jpg

 

Expressing the Virus: Pen and Ink

All this time off. By the way, I am very grateful for all those who continue to work — health care workers, fire fighters and police, grocery store clerks, etc.

Social isolation, distancing. Staying home as much as possible. Wearing a mask when I do go out. I know — it “doesn’t do any good.” They say. But first of all, allergies. Living in the ‘Valley of Death’ (Oregon’s Willamette Valley) allergies are a major source of discomfort, and worse, for many of us. Aside from that, much to my surprise, wearing a mask makes me feel better. No doubt purely psychological, but so what. You do you, I’ll do me. And I know they say wearing a mask doesn’t do any good, but what if someone sneezes or coughs all over me — isn’t a mask some sort of protection? A teeny bit?

Anyway. with this time off  (and how goddamn lucky are some of us who can stay home and not worry too much about money? I am so damn grateful. It’s not much but it’s something. Better than those who are truly struggling.)

Since our studio has been trashed due to heavy storms — it’s absolutely unusable — I haven’t painted in some time, or really done any artwork. This social isolation distancing had me bringing out the inks and pens and doing some drawings. I just started without thinking about it, but quickly realized all my little drawings had the same theme: The Virus. My husband said to me “You’re expressing out the virus. A magikal act.” True.

So here they are, all done within the past two days. I know, I could be doing something more practical, like weeding the yard, etc.

 

virus2manipreganlee.jpg
Reverse side of drawing I did using ink pens.

 

 

 

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Escape of the Coronas, ink pen on paper,  Regan Lee

tinyvirusreganlee.jpg

 

 

tinyvirus2reganlee.jpg

 

 

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Virus Haiku

tuna, beans, pasta, rice

coffee, peanut butter

tp: we’re set

 

 

ladycooktuna.jpg

 

 

 

empty shelves

global virus

living the sci-fi

 

rawpanic.jpg

 

 

 

hoarding the t.p.

wiping away the crap

anxiety wins

 

rations.jpg

 

 

 

snake, bat

Reptilian conspiracy

anxiety looms

comic bookcover.jpg

 

 

coast get-away

plans cancelled

pandemic

 

 

 

 

haiku by regan lee march 2020

from Rabbit Hole collection volume 1

The Writing Life: Haiku, Beats, and UFOs

Haven’t posted much lately. Not for lack of interest or the usual topsy turvy stuff in UFO Land. Plenty to write about there. (Like Tom DeLonge’s Academy to the Stars whatever. Oy.) (Speaking of, Peter Levenda, who I like, has been in cahoots with that whole mess. I don’t understand.)

I’ve been focusing on my non-paranormal UFO side: fiction. (Ha ha, I can hear some of you out there now: “Fiction?! Isn’t that what UFO Land is all about?”) Mainly, my Haiku Daddy-O page on Facebook (join if you like) and trying to self-publish some of my collections. One which is about the realm of the weird. It’s titled Orange Orb/Silver Sphere. I hope to have at least one chapbook up on Amazon soon.

For many years I tried to keep the two worlds separate; the UFO world and my creative writing world. But now, I’ve decided to just go where it all takes me.

Speaking of writing and creativity and one’s real UFO experiences, my husband is writing a novel, semi-autobiographical. Parts include when we first met and shared our UFO experiences. So in literature, “fiction,” the realm of the weird does have a place.

beateyeballs.jpg

Was I There?

Husband writing his novel, which includes when we first met. Discussions follow. After forty plus years of marriage, memories. . .

Synchronicity, or maybe just plain old nostalgia, but this weekend is our forty-third anniversary.

And I’m writing, on my own stuff, paranormal and not.

So we’re listening to old Donovan (do not underestimate him) on vinyl, of course, and things came to my mind. Like the following poem:

 

He was there

before we knew each other

was I?

I have a memory , some

might call it a screen memory, or

cover

when we met, we sat in his Fiat

talking poetry, dreams, UFOs

was I there?

I remember him, Donovan

Hollywood Bowl, on a carpet

white shirt

was I there?

Later, dreams, missing time

Where were we?

Was I there?

Back in 2011, when I was writing for Tim Binnall’s site, I wrote the following:

Donovan in Concert at the Hollywood Bowl … Maybe

Memory and UFOs. Missing time. Conscious recall of astounding events. These memories affect the UFO witness, contactee and abductee in profound ways. The memories are vivid, full of emotional and spiritual import that brings life long changes to the experiencer.

Even missing time – which is no memory – is a sort of memory. You know you don’t remember; you remember that something strange happened before, and something strange followed, but what happened in-between? During that in-between state, something happened, something involving you. The memory of those moments exist, somewhere, outside yourself. Forever frustrating, until recalled. But at that point, can we trust the process that brought us to that moment of recollection? Do we just think we remember? How much of those memories are real? All, some, none?

I have a few memories that don’t involve UFOs or really, anything particularity high strangeness or paranormal and yet… there’s a nagging feeling with this category of memory that UFOs were on the edges of these events. Events that I can’t fully recall. They share some similarities with missing time.

For years I’ve had a vague memory of attending a Donovan concert at the Hollywood Bowl in 1969. I have a vivid memory of seeing him on stage. I remember standing up on a little rise, the night air around me, seeing him and hearing him. I don’t recall being with anyone, if I was, I don’t remember who I was with. And yet, I don’t remember anything else at all. Not going to the concert, who I went with, anything about the concert itself, or anything afterwards. I don’t know how I got there. I don’t remember anything. I’m not sure I was there. But I think I might have been.

Curious to know if Donovan ever did play the Hollywood Bowl in 1969, I found proof that he did on the delightful The Go-Go’s Notebook blog. He did play there in 1969. No way to prove if I had been there, but at least we know he was.

There’s no one I could ask about this; my father, who I was living with at the time, has since passed away. He’d be the only one who might know. I was pretty left on my own back then, so adults or others who might know if I had gone wouldn’t necessarily know. It wouldn’t have been unusual for me to attend a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, where I’d seen may concerts, or other places.

It bothers me of course, not knowing if something really happened or not. At least in the context of UFOs, there’s a “Well, that explains it” context. Missing time, not being able to remember, while seeing a UFO, all adds up to the strange. It’s strange to begin with.

I don’t have any memories of UFO experiences when I was a teenager, except for one other memory related event. A few years ago I was meditating, and looking at a landscape I had painted of Santa Cruz. My mind wandered to a night in Santa Cruz by a river. My father and some family members were camping; in that meditative state I could vidily remember the smell of the water as well as the sounds, the cold air…and in the painting/memory, a stationary “star” began to move, zooming in towards us. I have a lucid moment, saying to myself “That didn’t happen when we were there!” I heard a voice outside of myself, speak to me inside my head that I “knew it was a UFO and I had better stop playing games” with myself about the reality of that memory. Then I was jolted back to the reality of my bedroom, the painting, and current time.

Was this memory of attending a Donovan concert related to this Santa Cruz event? Cover memories and games with time, and, location? As weird as this hazy memory realm is, it isn’t unheard of or unusual with UFO witnesses. Whitley Streiber is among witnesses who’ve shared their experiences of almost dreamlike memories that were not dreams, yet… some shadowy thing has happened to distance the witness from the event. Why?

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Jim (my spouse of these many decades) and I have had many paranormal and UFO experiences; separate, in our childhoods, before we knew each other, as well as during our relationship. One example: the orange orb sighting, with missing time.

 

Outer Space Micro Poetry

Haiku, senryu, micro poems. A couple I think I’ve posted here before — most are new.

 

the air is full 

of unheard

noise

_______________________________________________

a dark blue realm

translucent

but unreachable

 

caveufo.jpg

_______________________________________________

some say missing time

is the mental state unhinged

and some know better

_______________________________________________

 

she didn’t believe

such things could be happening

brilliant orange orbs

 

sphereufo.jpg

_______________________________________________

dusk

enchanted ,though uneasy 

we watch the sliver sphere

shooting beams of light

above the pasture

_______________________________________________

we argue

comparing memories

of missing time

_______________________________________________

poems by regan lee

2019, oregon

Do Octopi Dream?

I think they do. Some scientists think so too. I write a lot about dreams here at the Orange Orb, as readers know. Combine my intrigue with dreams and my love of octopi, and I’m in a very nerdy place on the astral plane.

“If she is dreaming, this is a dramatic moment,” Scheel said. “You could almost narrate the body changes and narrate the dream. She sees a crab and her color starts to change a little bit, then she turns all dark, octopuses will do that when they leave the bottom [of the ocean.] This is a camoflage, like she’s just subdued a crab and she’s just going to sit there and eat it, and she doesn’t want anyone to notice her.”

octopus.jpeg

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