Wednesday, February 2, 2022

This Ain't No Party: Covid

 I can't shake it. Still have the Covid Virus Variant What Fresh Hell Is This on my mind. A year or so ago, I was doing tons of Covid related drawings and paintings. Even cartoons. Dozens. Also haiku and micro poetry. Then it stopped. We still had Covid of course, but my need to express my anxiety and obserevations ceased. 

Until now. Suddenly, I have found myself obsessively drawing a lot of Covid drawings again. If you scroll down you'll see a few posts where I've commented on my feelings surrounding the virus as well as some drawings.

And now,  one of my sisters has Covid. Despite her being vaccinated and a booster and wearing a mask. She's okay, overall. Still, it's hard. Isolated in her place. Feeling . . . weird. Etc.

Damn it.

Damn it!

Here are two more recent drawings:


This Ain't No Party, ink and marker on paper, Regan Lee 2022



Covid Cloud, ink and marker on paper, Regan Lee, 2022

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Vintage Find: Tim Beckley's UFO Review no. 27

 I figure it will take me a good month if not more before I am finished with my purging project, and getting that room -- now full of books and files and mysterious boxes -- ready for human habitation.

I found this today: Tim Beckley's UFO Review, no. 27 from 1988. Priced at $1.50!  Beckley was the publisher and editor of this mag. I loved getting these publications in the mail from Beckley. He also put out Conspiracy Journal and all kinds of old school U.F.O. stuff. (some of my work appeared in a few of his publications.)

I miss Tim. He was always very nice to me and helpful and appreciative of my input. The UFO world lost a real treasure when he passed away in May of 2021.




Can't wait to read this article!




You can learn how to talk to the Space Beings. . . 





Mixed media collage I did when Tim passed away.


Monday, January 31, 2022

The Mask-less and My Passive Aggressive Wimp-Out

 It happened. Today in the West Eugene post office, woman in front of me, no mask. None. She was mask-less. I was behind her, and said "Some of us think we're too good to wear a mask," which was both lame (clearly my inner Dorothy Parker was sleeping) and passive aggressive. Since I said it kind of sort of not so loud. 

I glared at her. From behind her of course. Still, maybe she felt my rays of rage. The clerk didn't say anything to her.

When I got up to the counter, I asked if there was a post office policy about wearing masks. She said they weren't allowed to deny services to anyone. She agreed the woman without the mask was a jerk. She said that sometimes she'll say to a customer "You forgot your mask," and the responses vary, from a shrug and an "I know," to a "What are. ya gonna do about it?" I told her I feel bad for her and the other postal employees (just like store employees and educators, etc.) who have to wear masks for the whole damn day. And yet someone who comes into the post office for ten minutes can't be bothered to wear a mask. 

Also, there was a senior citizen hippie (hey, no judgement, I'm a senior citizen hippie) who was donning the "dick nose" mask. You know, where the mask is on the face, but pulled down over the nose. But he was further back in line and I wasn't going to get into a long distance shouting match in the post office.

I should have said something to the woman directly. Should I have? People are crazy and filled with rage these days.  I didn't want to end up on a You Tube video of crazy lady in the post office attacks mask less woman. Who's the Karen here? (not me!) I didn't want this woman to pull out the scissors she had in her pocket, in her attempts to protect herself against my confronting her. Okay, a little dramatic maybe.  I doubt she would have reacted that way. 

But her in your face -- literally -- statement of not wearing a mask was just so damn insulting. No one likes wearing a mask. I don't. At all. Too bad. I don't want to get sick, I don't want to get others sick. And it's really rude to not wear a mask for ten minutes while you're in a store or other public place where the employees have to wear a mask for up to eight hours, often more. 

___________________________________________

I did two more Covid drawings since yesterday's post. In that post, I commented that drawings with the word Covid alert the algorithms on social media, as well as some group moderators. (One art group I belong to has, in its rules, "no Covid related work," what and why?) So I call this drawing Invasion of the Button People:


Invasion of the People, ink, marker on paper, Regan Lee 2022



Variants, ink, marker on paper, Regan Lee 2022

Sunday, January 30, 2022

"No Covid Work Accepted"

 Not much to report; no pithy snarky comments on the current state of things in UFO Land. (I mean, I could, but I won't. At least not now.)

But, our global lives being turned inside out due to Covid continue to be turned inside out, and sideways, and back in/out again. People are tired, nuts, full of rage and ignorance. 

I'm tired. We're all tired. Fed up. Sad. Depressed. But . . . that is our new reality. 

Anyway, one of the artist groups I belong to on Facebook rejected my drawing:


Still Here: Covid 2022, ink, marker on paper

It was rejected because the group rules state "No Covid related material." I didn't read the rules, which is a bit hypocritical -- though I prefer lazy -- since I run several groups myself. It's their right to have any rules they want. But I just found it such an odd reaction. 

I'm not making any political statement. Covid is still here. Expressing our angst, outrage, fear, and fatigue through artistic methods is a healthy way to deal with it all.  Is the thinking that, by simply ignoring the existence of Covid, it will go away? Is there some assumed political agenda embedded in the title, the drawing? What if I titled the drawing "Bugs," or something?  Do we now have to disguise Covid themed work in order not to ... what? Offend? Disturb? Anger? 


Saturday, January 22, 2022

It's an Orange! Remote Viewing Exercises


Now and then I do remote viewing exercises. I keep a little journal of hits and misses.  Sometimes I get it right, or close to, other times, either way off or just a blank. Nothing. I would like to do more of this, buy my personal bane of this existence is; part of my ADD. Fighting it all my life. 





Last night’s guest on Coast to Coast was remote viewer Douglas Cottrell. (Richard Syrett was the host.)  Cottrell did a remote viewing exercise with the listening audience. He had an image, we tried to see it. 


 Listeners called in with their results. Some were way off, some close, some got it right. One described a platter with leaves; that wasn’t the object Cottrell had in mind but, he said, he did have a platter like that in the other room. 


I kept getting the image of an orange. Host Richard Syrett said he thought it was a grapefruit. I kept getting orange. Then my mind did a weird slide-picture thing where it went back and forth between an orange and a baseball. (One caller called in to say he thought it was a baseball!) but, while doubting myself a bit, I stuck with orange. I just felt that it was.





Funnily enough, I didn’t see the orange in my mind. But I sensed it.  I knew it was an orange; I felt confident that’s what it was, even though my mind would slip into the image of a baseball. Maybe I was also picking up images from others?


Turned out, it was an orange!


Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Our Kitchen Spirit

 We've lived in our home for almost thirty years. From the first day, we felt odd vibes. Not that the house was haunted, but...something. Impressions of previous owners, residue. Like I said, something. 



One room in particular that has always been active is the kitchen. Once, Jim lost one of his favorite chopsticks. They were beautiful; handmade by a friend, wood. Really nice. We looked everywhere for it, never found it. Until. . . one day, months later, I found the chopstick stuck on a pantry shelf high up in between a food storage bin and the wall of the pantry. 

Many other times, looking for an item suddenly gone from its usual place. A day or two later, it's either back where it always goes, or is found in a really weird place that makes no sense. Even if misplaced, neither one of us would have misplaced in such a crazy place.

Tonight, I found the missing half of the wooden salad fork and spoon. The spoon went missing a few weeks ago. It always gets put back in the little drawer near the cutting board. We looked everywhere, every drawer, etc. Could not find it. We've been in the little drawer many times since, nothing. Tonight, I open the drawer and right there in front, are the salad spoon and fork. 

Things like this have happened in other rooms but nothing like what goes on the kitchen. 

I should try making friends with the kitchen spirit. It doesn't seem negative, just playful. 

X-Files Action Figure

 Still going through boxes and boxes of stuff. And found this, completely forgot I had this. Agent Fox Mulder of the X-Files with alien.




Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Covid Dreams

 It took a while, but the last year I started to have dreams with Covid themes. Not wearing masks, forgetting to wear a mask, etc.

Last night, I had  a dream involving someone very close to me who decided, for some unknown reason, to cut me off from their life. This hurt. Still hurts. It's baffling, confusing, hurtful. It also has ignited a huge flame of "fuck you what the fuck are you doing to us?" reaction.

Last night, I dreamt this person agreed to my invitation to come down to her state and be with her. The dream begins:

I'm in the back seat of a car with "Martina." We're in the middle of the back seat, with her husband, then Marinta, then me, then her son. Her daughter is no where to be seen. I don't know who is driving the car.

I am so happy!!!!! So happy! So happy that after more than a year, Martina has finally decided to bring me back into her life. So we're sitting in the back seat, and I hug her and kiss her. and all the past year is a non-issue. We will move on. So happy!

Then, very casually, "Martina" says to me "Oh, I have Covid." 

I say, "What? What do you mean, 'I have Covid?!"

Martina tells me that sure, she has Covid, but so what?

I am shocked, hurt and angered. I ask her how could she agree to meet with me knowing she will expose me to Covid?! She tells me I'm just being silly and paranoid and to get over it.

In the car, I open an envelope from my doctor. The forms say I did have Covid, a long time ago. But am free now.

Meanwhile, I am still very upset -- and hurt-- that this person so very close to me would be so cavilerabout Covid.

This dream is about how Covid seeps into our subconscious and our dreaming states, despite our intentions to not let the negative take over our lives.

On a very personal note, the person in my dream is someone very close to me -- a family member -- and I think that politics have merged into the twisted, gas lighting, mind fucking realm of Covid. This person, who I love and have protected and stood up for since her birth, has allowed politics (I think, for she won't say) take over love.

So, a reminder. Love. Patience. Compassion Non-judgement. Hard to do!!! I KNOW! But ...  when it comes to family, it seems to be that any system, be it political or religious, that demands your allegiance over you own family and friends, be on the side of family and friends. 

 



 

Finds in the Old Files

 Going through old files (see post below) and found these odd little gems:



Couldn't find anything on-line about this one. 





Old 'Mad Libs'





back of postcard from the Unarious Academy of Science; Ruth E. Norman (Uriel) Cosmic Visionary and Cofounder of Unarius

Skylaire Alfvegren: A Bittersweet Find

 Going through old files and notebooks today and I found this sweet letter from Skylaire Alfvegren, who very suddenly passed not long ago. Still cannot believe she is gone.


I am very sad that we never met in person. We talked on the phone, emailed -- even got together with a friend of hers who moved up here awhile back -- but never met Skylaire in person. She was an inspiration to me and I will always be in gratitude for her friendship.

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Art and the X-Files

 I've been bingeing on X-Files lately. A feast! I've also been going through many of my art books, seeking inspiration. And found, to my surprise, The Art of the X-Files. Great find but have no memory of how I came to own this book. I don't remember, nor does my husband. Nothing mysterious here; no doubt, during my days as a folklore UFO nerd at the U of O, I purchased the book. Maybe it was a gift. Either way, nice discovery!



Friday, January 14, 2022

Covid Nightmares



Computer manipulated oil pastel on gray paper: Covid Nightmares


 It's taken me a good long year or more to really feel the depression and anxiety surrounding Covid. 

Two years ago in March, a few days before my birthday, I came home from the elementary school where I worked as an Instructional Assistant in the Title 1 program. And I never came back. Covid had just hit, and schools were shutting down, moving on to distance learning, etc. I had planned to retire that year and had just started that process. I was to finish out my contract until June, so, I did on line teaching until then. Also, we cancelled our annual It's Regan's Birthday Bash on the Oregon Coast in Yachats. Every year, forever, we went to the coastal town of Yachats to celebrate my birthday. Not that year. 

It was crazy, frustrating, and very strange. Laptops loaned to me from the district didn't work, learning the brand new systems was definitely a challenge, taking on line courses to justify my salary were boring and hard, and, seemed pointless since I was retiring. But I got through it.  (The challenges for certified teachers and the little kids were much harder.)

I don't mind wearing masks, I was vaccinated and got my booster. I wash my hands, take zinc and other supplements. The first year was okay. The second year, a bit harder. I miss visiting with friends. 

And lately, I realize it's really hit hard. I still mind the whole mask thing, but the paranoia has seeped into my subconscious. I don't feel comfortable meeting friends in public places. When I do, it's that little window in between Covid variants. One week it's safe, the next, not. Numbers of patients with Covid who are hospitalized go up, and, deaths. Medical staff shortages. Confusing data from the CDC and other organizations. Everywhere it seems a lot of people -- far too many! -- are behaving as if Covid is over, or, not so bad. Crowds at football games without masks, sitting right next to each other.

Also, as strange as it is to acknowledge, our ages no doubt have something to do with my anxieties. I'm in my late sixties, my husband in his seventies. We have all kinds of health issues (strokes, heart attacks, chronic asthma, and more...

So, hating the fact we're leery and a bit paranoid, we are, nonetheless. . . leery and paranoid.

Meanwhile, I feel guilty for not socializing, while others do without a care. I can't help but feel despair and anger at people's stupidity. And I am angry and also despair at the systems in charge, because they know what needs to be done, and it isn't getting done. It never will get done. That's what systems do. They gaslight us. They intentionally do the most blatant topsy turvy acts of absurdity.  



Covid Nightmare: "Bleh", oil pastel on gray paper, Regan Lee 2022

And now Covid has infected my dreams. I have dreams I walk into a store without a mask, and I'm horrified that I forgot. Or that others are not wearing masks, and we get into a fight. The past week, I've had two dreams where I had a bad case of Covid. I woke up very scared.

I tried to interpret the feeling those dreams gave me in this piece. But it was "blah." I manipulated the oil pastel on the computer, and was surprised at how this image gives a pretty good idea of what I'm feeling. 

Covid Nightmares. Indeed. The only thing I can say is that we need to be patient with each other and take care of ourselves. Such a simple thought, but hard to do. Especially now.

Saturday, January 8, 2022

The Naked Eye, and Through the Lens Part One

 We see things we can't explain with the naked eye. And then we might take a photo, or look through binoculars, and the object appears very differently. 

I described one sighting in the post below. (Part Two.) Another sighting, also in Eugene, Oregon, happened about five years ago. It was New Year's Eve, and I was standing on my front porch at night, watching for fireworks, etc. Suddenly a weird light appeared from the east, traveling north west. It was a large shape and light (white) but through the binoculars it was something else entirely. It changed shape -- not seen with the naked eye but with the binocs ---  and then "zoomed" downwards and turning gray, then, blinked out. Just, gone.

Drone? Fancy firework? (I really don't think so.) Oh who knows. Strange nonetheless.

The Naked Eye, and Through the Lens Part Two

 At least twice, I have seen objects that appear one way with the naked eye, and quite another way through binoculars. 

One event that I remember, and I've posted about on-line years ago: 

I'm at my cousin-in-laws home. We're watching a slide show of a friends vacation. The cousins lived in the South Hills of Eugene, the house full of large picture windows. Great view. There we are, downstairs, and I'm looking at the little windows, just knowing that I will see a UFO that night. I just knew it. 

Sure enough, I see a white light, orb shaped, come bouncing along towards us. I don't say anything. Wife to cousin-in-law finally says (I remember wondering when she would say something, for I was watching her watching it) "Are. you seeing this?" [paraphrase.] 

We all look, and and watch, This round white bouncing light orb thing was certainly odd. No sound could be heard. And it didn't seem to behave anything like a plane, or helicopter. It was weird enough that we all ran upstairs. 

Upstairs. Huge picture windows in the hills over looking the small city of Eugene, Oregon. We watch the light, still coming our way. Someone gets binoculars. We go out on the small catwalk like balcony to get a better look. The person with the vacation slides; he's upset. He's actually pissed. Angry. He says he doesn't want to look at it, and walks away. One could say he was merely offended that we ignored his vacation slides in order to chase this light, but I got the feeling -- as did others that night --that he was truly upset by the light. I seem to remember him saying something like "I don't need to know what that is."

Looking at the white orb like object with the binoculars, the object appeared to be very different. Suddenly it was a rapidly changing thing. It changed shapes, from square to orb to triangle to rectangle. And, it changed color. With the naked eye, it was white. But through the binoculars, the colors changed with the shapes; red, blue, green, yellow/golden, turquoise.

We continued to watch this as it moved towards us, then behind some trees, and then, gone.

I'm not saying it was the Space Brothers. It could have been a drone. This was back in the early 1990s. Not long after I saw my Orange Orb and, during the few years following, all kinds of weird events took place.


Friday, January 7, 2022

Dreaming of the "Heart Card"


 As I wrote in the post below, (Mermaids in the Astral) you'd think I had indulged in a healthy amount of magic mushrooms last night. I don't know what my subconscious was doing, but clearly, it was having a good time.

So, aside from the dream where I was a mermaid with a lovely shimmering golden tail, I also dreamt about the tarot:


I am doing a reading for my niece, using my newest deck, the Dark Forest Tarot, which is another version of the Waite Rider Coleman tarot.  I tell my niece I like this deck a lot but it's a little darker than I expected. What attracted me to the deck was the sepia, toned down "darkness" but when I received the deck (complete with box and red velvet bag, groovy!) it was a bit darker than I expected. Still, I really like the deck.

I use the layout, or most of what I remember of the layout, of Dr. Art Rosengarten's Tarot of the Future: Raising Spiritual Consciousness."  What I remember is that the first card represents what the client thinks is going on,  what it feels like. The second card tells us what is really going on, on a deeper level. I don't remember the third card, so I create my own interpretation. The third card tells us what path to take to remain in a positive light.

 

The important thing about the third card is that the reader needs to place the "Heart Card" first, and then the tarot card partially touching the Heart Card.

All this takes place in a hut like room, where I live. It's painted turquoise. It's on the side of a rural type road. People come inside all day for readings. One day I find, as I'm shuffeling the cards, yellow cards mixed in with the deck. The are oriented horizontally, the long way, which is odd. They are a bright yellow, not pretty. And strange sigil like markings on the cards. No words, title, numbers or symbols. A few of the cards had a faint impression of a Major Arcana card, but you had to look closely to see it.  

I don't like these cards. They're ugly, and there's an uncomfortable feeling about the cards orientation. I have no idea how these cards got here, but I have a strong sense of a presence -- for lack of a better way to describe, angelic -- has something to do with this. And yet, it's not a malevolent vibe or anything negative. Just something odd and uncomfortable.