Sunday, February 13, 2022

Frustration: Mis-membering and Missing Time

  I am very frustrated right now, and a bit angry. And confused. And just overall a WTF feeling. Once again, Jim and I got into a heated discussion about the Orange Orb.

As. Usual.

I was saying to him that my decision to go through regression regarding the Orange Orb sighting was my own. I told him I might need him to be there with me -- not listening, but there to drive me back and offer support if needed. He said "Of course." I said my decision was my own, if he wants to also go through this that's his decision. He said "But if you remember, then, we'll remember and I'll know what happened."

Well, not necessarily. My memory would be mine. He might be within it, but... what happened to me does not mean it also happened to him. He might have a different memory.

He conceded that. Then, of course, things devolved into:

He insisted that the Orange Orb was seen while we lived on Hilyard, not Friendly. He said "I guarantee you that we were living on Hilyard when we saw the orb." 

I said "Well what about my memory of, after seeing the orb drop behind a neighbor's house, and then we go into our house on Friendly and I picked up the phone to call the airport, police...and realized that was silly and anyway it was eight o'clock at night or later and they'd think I was nuts." (Also, that's when the dreams started and I went off on my search to find out what it was that I saw and that was while we were living on Friendly and Lorane.)

He said: "That's some other memory but I know this orange orb thing was when we were living on Hilyard."

I tried to get us to the point where it's possible we both remember parts correctly, and other parts not so much. That either one of us is correct, or, both in some ways. It's not an either or memory. I also tried to get him to understand that as adamant as he is about Hilyard Street, I am about the house on Friendly. 

Good thing I'm going through this. Memories, hopefully, will be cleared up.

Or, not. 

We will see. 

Saturday, February 12, 2022

A Decision: A Hypnosis Consultation


After debating with myself the merits, if any, of hypnosis in regards to UFOs/missing time experiences, I've decided to check it out. I have a consultation this Monday. Valentine's Day, of all things. I love the juxtaposition. 

It's just a consultation, not an actual session. And I might decide to not go through with it after all. At this point, my husband, who also experienced missing time and UFO events, is waiting for me to report back. I don't know if he'll pursue this either. We're both unsure and overall wonky about this. 

On the other hand. . .

Anyway, more on this as it happens. If it happens.

It would be embarrassing to find out we were just forgetful regarding time or mistook an owl for a UFO. Then again, you know what they say: 

The owls are not what they seem.

Monday, February 7, 2022

Wait, What? Orange Orb at Dusk

 Watching Aliens in Alaska, and a witness describing their orange orb UFO experience. Jim says to me: 

"Like the orange orb we saw at dusk."

I say; "What? What orange orb at dusk?!"

He shakes his head. After decades of going over our sighting of the orange orb, complete with missing time, UFO filled dreams and crazy psychic experiences, there are still surprises.  We have argued, fought, discussed, dismissed, wondered, about our Orange Orb sighting (among others) for literal decades. No answers.

I said, in honesty but not trying to "get into a thing" : 

"I remember only that it was dark." 

Jim agreed. Agreed that when we got home it was dark, but, being summer, and only an hour drive from Cottage Grove to Eugene --if that! -- it would have still been light. 

I said "Maybe I only remember the night part and don't remember anything before that" and Jim said:

"Yes. And maybe I only remember the light, the daytime part . . ."

We both just shut up after that. Then, Jim says: 

"We just need to get regressed."


I actually had contacted someone in Eugene right before the Covid madness hit. I think it might be time to try again. At my age (sixty-eight, in a few weeks, Jim's in his seventies) what's to lose? We either get some insight, maybe some kind of a truth, or, we don't. Turns out we just saw a laser pen being beamed at us. 

Worth finding out after all this time.

Sunday, February 6, 2022

Finds: 1959 FATE

 I have three file boxes full of FATE magazines, as well as other issues in some magazine binders. I found this the other day while organizing the book room.

FATE magazine May 1959

It's in fair condition; spine is tattered, no back cover. 

I love this ad for "Advice and Counseling by Mail or Phone" in the issue.

Dr. Morton Jacobs, a man of many skills:
Yoga, Psychic, Medium, Spiritualism,Telepathy, Astrology, Palmistry, Numberology, Orgone Therapy, Aura Analysis ...

And, of course:

Health Secrets of the Interplanetary and Flying Saucer People.

Not to mention Voodoo, Witchcraft, the Bible and Healing Secrets of Jesus. 


Finds: 1958 Flying Saucer Review

 Among the hundreds of UFO, paranormal and cryptid books I have, this hardcover edition of The Flying Saucer Review's World Roundup of UFO Sightings and Events, Brinsley Le Poer Trench editor, 1958.

Among the sightings in the book, a UFO seen in Oregon in August of 1958. It was described as "A spectacular green fireball in a hurry ..." seen in Portland, OR and all along the west coast.

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.