Sunday, October 17, 2010

Unexpected Discoveries

Old sketches about ... something ... energy unseen. Here is one. Waves of color. Openings.

Last night I had several rapid-fire dreams full of intense visual imagery. Things I can or must make, and do. I could not contain it all, it was too much.

This sketch feels like what I experienced last night.

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Letter to the Creator from the Earth

Letter below composed by my dad - received in an email this past weekend. Picture by me: photo of the first oil spring discovered in North America, in Cuba, NY (Oil Spring Reservation), about 4 miles from our cabin.

Hi God.

Over here. I'm the small blue planet orbiting a small sun in a small galaxy. You answered my request 65 million years ago for an asteroid strike and I want to say "Thank You" again for that. The dinosaur population had become untenable for my ecology. They were literally climbing over top of each other, slithering about, destroying the natural habitat for themselves and other creatures. Good riddance!

Sorry to be such a bother but I need your assistance again. The new threat to this world has become far worse than your dinosaurs ever were. They call themselves "Humans". They may be your darlings but they hate each other. They have discovered the resting places of all those rotting dinosaurs and have learned how to war over these deposits of dinosaur juice. They call it OIL. It has been bad
enough that their use of the juice, has caused a horrible pollution of the atmosphere but now they are ruining the planet's water supply. Vast quantities of the stuff are spilling into the oceans, killing your beautiful fishes and soon, "Oil rains" will fall upon the land masses, making plants and animals sick.

So please consider this request for another asteroid strike, say one about the same size as the other, except some birds actually survived the last one. I'll leave it up to you. I'll get by.

Just for laughs, these humans spend a great deal of time searching the universe for signs of what they call, "Intelligent Life". It's a shame they haven't found any signs of it here on this lovely blue world.

Thanks again,

The Blue World

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Leaf Wheel

First night at the cabin, I awoke with images of leaf wheels: leaves sprouting from branches, arranged like spokes around a hub. The day before I had been thinking a good deal about the gash in the gulf bleeding oil into the ocean - where all life begins and ends, like a great wheel, or an engine of creation. I am going to make something using this symbol.

The original image was removed by a hacker. I have since replaced it with a new version from 2014.

A Message

Gulf Coast Oil Spill – Sioux Prayer Request – A letter from Chief Arvol Looking Horse (Present Chief and Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe of the Lakota, Dakota, Nakota Nation of the Sioux)
****** A Great Urgency ******
To All World Religious and Spiritual Leaders ******
My Relatives,
Time has come to speak to the hearts of our Nations and their Leaders. I ask you this from the bottom of my heart, to come together from the Spirit of your Nations in prayer.
We, from the heart of Turtle Island, have a great message for the World; we are guided to speak from all the White Animals showing their sacred color, which have been signs for us to pray for the sacred life of all things. As I am sending this message to you, many Animal Nations are being threatened, those that swim, those that crawl, those that fly, and the plant Nations, eventually all will be affect from the oil disaster in the Gulf.
The dangers we are faced with at this time are not of spirit. The catastrophe that has happened with the oil spill which looks like the bleeding of Grandmother Earth, is made by human mistakes, mistakes that we cannot afford to continue to make.
I asked, as Spiritual Leaders, that we join together, united in prayer with the whole of our Global Communities. My concern is these serious issues will continue to worsen, as a domino effect that our Ancestors have warned us of in their Prophecies.
I know in my heart there are millions of people that feel our united prayers for the sake of our Grandmother Earth are long overdue. I believe we as Spiritual people must gather ourselves and focus our thoughts and prayers to allow the healing of the many wounds that have been inflicted on the Earth. As we honor the Cycle of Life, let us call for Prayer circles globally to assist in healing Grandmother Earth (our Unc’I Maka).
We ask for prayers that the oil spill, this bleeding, will stop. That the winds stay calm to assist in the work. Pray for the people to be guided in repairing this mistake, and that we may also seek to live in harmony, as we make the choice to change the destructive path we are on.
As we pray, we will fully understand that we are all connected. And that what we create can have lasting effects on all life.
So let us unite spiritually, All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer. Along with this immediate effort, I also ask to please remember June 21st, World Peace and Prayer Day/Honoring Sacred Sites day. Whether it is a natural site, a temple, a church, a synagogue or just your own sacred space, let us make a prayer for all life, for good decision making by our Nations, for our children’s future and well-being, and the generations to come.

Saturday, May 01, 2010

The Air Force is My Village

I arrived early this evening at the home of my parents. After
an hour or so of conversation, my father received a call...the son of an fellow past navigator was passing through town and wanted to stop by. "Sure" says my dad...and he proceeded to provide directions. My mother remarked that she had not seen this person since he was about 4 years old. Turns out that he (Scot) and I were both born in the same Air Force hospital near Lake Charles, Louisiana. In fact, we were IN the hospital newborn ward at the very same time. Naturally we do not remember each other.

Scot wanted to stop and chat with my dad about any stories he might know about his own dad, who had died tragically in a mid-air collision over Kentucky during the early 1960s. The collision was between a KC-135 (of which his dad was Nav) and a B-52. The two planes had hooked up for a refueling when the B-52 pilot, who was somewhat inexperienced, moved his plane about 20 yards forward, and then proceeded to bank (presumably to correct his mistake). His wing collided with that of the KC135, resulting in a fireball so spectacular, it was seen for 100s of miles around.

Scot did not remember anything about his dad. He was a small boy when this happened. And his mother had refused to talk about it.

It is not all that unusual for old Air Force acquaintances to pop up like this every so often. We share connections that have persisted over many years, in some cases, stronger than the bonds of blood relations. People often ask me where I am from. I find myself providing different answers based on how I am feeling at the time. Some times I'm from Louisiana (where I was born); or southern Indiana (the home town of my parents); or from upper peninsula Michigan (where my heart lies); or from St. Louis, where I went to school; or from various other places I have lived (and where my siblings were born, etc.). When I am feeling particularly aggravated by this question, I answer simply: "I am from the Air Force". This last response results in expressions of confusion or puzzlement on the part of the questioner. Yet this, more than any other answer, is closest to the truth.

It particularly hit home this evening, as my dad and Scot continued to converse about his dead father, that the Air Force was our "home town". We grew up in it, we share the connections that people from normal home towns share. We feel a need to return and understand our home town roots, yet in our case, this is impossible, because our "home town" is scattered over 100s of military bases all over the world. It is a curious existence.

Saturday, February 06, 2010

The Cryptoterrestrials

What if the “aliens” are not from other planets?

Mac Tonnies' new book will be released by Anomalist Books in March, described as "A meditation on indigenous humanoids and the aliens among us".

I have so many mixed feelings about this book. I'm happy to see it published but saddened that it will be the last from our friend Mac.
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