The Case of the Curious Dollhouse

 Which remains unsolved.

I found this photograph as I was working the book room we're clearing out. It was near an envelope from the U of O, Folklore Department. I majored in folklore there; and yard art, outsider art was an interest of mine, still is. So I know I spent a lot of time taking pictures of yard art, things I found along the way, colorful mailboxes and folk art, especially religious or spiritual inspired folk, or outsider art. (The two; folk and outsider, are not necessarily the same thing.) In fact, the photo was near an envelope full of photos I took at the Saturday Market, where a woman who went by the name of Sister Bear decorated holy cards and night lights of Jesus and Mary.

I have no memory of taking this photo though. None. What an odd thing to find; a dollhouse in the middle of a pasture. Just sitting there. The area looks to be in the Lorane area, a rural area right outside of town, an area I drove through all the time and still do.

This will make a very neat mixed media, collage piece! 

Women, Octopi, A Rainy Town

 Books I'm reading, all at once. Not literally all at once, but these four books are on my pile here and I take turns reading bits of all of them all the day long.

First off, Emma Woods. Yes, Emma! She has written a book about her life long experiences: Glimpses of Magonia. Each chapter has a poetic word gift from Alfred Lehmberg. I've just started reading the book, so can't give a review. Not that none is necessary, since, when it comes to a person's experiences, who am I to say?

Another book by an experiencer of the other world realm: Cosmic Witch; Magic, Witchcraft, and the Supernatural, by Susan Demeter. Just started reading it. Again, another woman who has experienced the "other" since childhood. 

 

On a different not, or maybe not so much, given the alien like qualities -- almost magical -- of octopi and celphapods: Other Minds: The Octopus, The Sea, and The Deep Origins of Consciousness, by Peter Godfrey-Smith. Just a bit into it but I love this book. It's science, sure, but written so that the layperson can easily understand the concepts here. It is a philosophy book, not a strict hard science book. And as someone who love octopi, this book is definitely a joy. 

Lastly, there's a vintage paperback I found while going through my "room of doom" (now renamed "Room of Opportunity" thanks to Karyn Dolan's suggestion) of books. 1955; A Town is Drowning, by Frederik Pohl and C.M. Kornbluth. Both were science fiction writers, the two were collaborators on this non-sci-fi novel about a town suddenly deluged -- literally -- and relationships among the townsfolk. So far it has a slight if Koontz Met King vibe. (I like Koontz -- love his Frankenstein series! -- but much prefer King. Mainly, on a personal values/political values sensibility.)  Not too far into it but I am enjoying the writing. Love the pulp cover art.

Second Hypnosis Session: Not, and, Remote Viewing

 I decided to not continue with they hypnosis. Possibly, in the future, if I find someone really deep into this realm, I might, but for now, nope. While it was an interesting experience, and, nothing to lose, it didn't reveal anything. On some level, possibly. But in a literal level, no. And right now, despite the poetic/metaphoric/symbolic part, I wanted a deeper, more "real", literal, answer.

Nothing against the person who guided me on the journey. Person seemed very genuine and was nice. And mostly, did not think at all I was out of mind. 

Still, we need more. 

I'm wondering if remote viewing would work. Remote viewing  missing time. My own, or Jim's. Would my own remote viewing of my experience only be the same as the "hypnosis?" Or should I remote view Jim's, and he, mine? I don't know. Advice here is gratefully appreciated.

So for now, back to trying to work it all out via art, remote viewing, dreams...back to the drawing board.

Does it matter? Depends on what context you choose to frame all this in. In UFO Land, it matters. In context of Covid Hell, and Putin's horrific invasion of Ukraine, it don't mean shit. 

My First Hypnosis, and A VERY Eerie Synchronicity

 Hypnosis session number one:

After breathing and body relaxation exercises, I was asked to walk down a hall full of pictures of me at various ages. When I got to the one where Jim and I had our first case of missing time, I stopped, and was asked to enter the picture:

We’re holding hands standing at the top of a ramp like drive-way. At the end of the driveway is a garage, the garage door is closed, almost touching the ground. It’s about four inches up from the ground. A yellow beam of light can be seen under the door.

For some reason, Jim and I are both intrigued by this light but also a bit uneasy. After looking at the light for a bit, he says “Let’s get out of here” and I agree. We leave.

But, now I’m back at the garage. I walk down the slanting drive-way, suddenly it shifts and becomes like a half pipe. Wobbly, I’m a little dizzy. I see that a very large something inside the garage is pressing against the door; I can see the indentation. It’s not trying to get out, it’s just pressing against the metal of the door. Must be pretty strong and big to do that.

I still see the yellow light and now lots of white lights, dancing around. Not quite orbs, more like beams shooting around. I’m both a little scared and also interested, almost enchanted. I feel like Alice Through the Looking Glass. 

Now, Jim and I are both inside the garage. I don’t know how we got inside. We are not together; he’s off by himself at one side of the place, I’m on the other side. You’d think we’d be together but we’re by ourselves. I notice he’s wearing the peacoat he always wore back then. His hands are in his pockets, he’s looking around, in awe. As am I. 

This place is huge. It’s about thirty feet high. Now I see the Geisha Alien being. (I had a dream around this time of being inside a white geodesic dome, sitting on the floor across from a seven foot or so gray alien. I know it’s female. She’s wearing a wig like a Geisha. No emotion, highly intelligent. I am furious she’s keeping me from Jim, who is somewhere in this place.) I am surprised the Geisha Alien from my dream is here. She is incredibly tall, almost touches the ceiling. Around her are about a dozen grays. They are about four feet in height. While she is extremely intelligent -- though a cold bitch -- the little guys aren’t so smart. They just do what they’re told.

I know Jim is aware of their presence but I’m not sure he can physically see them. Why I think this I don’t know. I can see them.

Inside this place close to the door is a large classic flying saucer. It’s so typical, almost comic book like, it makes me laugh. I mention this to the hypnotist. But, it’s what I see. It’s also mainly a gold color, which doesn’t jibe with the usual chrome or silver color. 

I know that I’m going to end up inside that thing. Craft, UFO, ship. I walk under it. You’d think I would have been brought to it, probably by the creatures, but I seem to walk under it on my own. 

I find myself inside. Not sure how I got inside. It’s smaller than I thought. Little rooms with curved walls. That gold light again. The Geisha alien is back. This time she’s six feet tall, a far more normal size. She’s acting very personable; “This is where you’ll be staying,” she says, friendly. But she’s faking being friendly. She doesn’t talk; we appear to be communicating telepathically. She ushers me into a small almost empty room. There’s a metal table, white. She has me sit on the table, then she leaves.

I’m sitting on the table. The hypnotist asks me how I feel now, and what do I see, looking down on myself. I am watching this from above.

 

I tell her I feel like a little kid, I see myself down there sitting on the table and wearing anklets, Mary Janes, a dress just like I would have worn in first grade in the 1950s.

I feel both a little scared and bored, like a little kid. Then I flash to when I was a little kid and had those experiences where I’d float out the door after focusing on the yellow beam of light under the door. “They” would take me outside and leave me waiting high up in a tree. I would be excited, and loved watching the stars while I waited.

That was it. I told the hypnotist i don’t how real any of this was, and how much was just my mind free floating around. Was any of this a literal memory? Bits, parts of actual events? I can’t say.

A Very Eerie Synchronicity:

I told all this to Jim when I got home of course. He remembered my Geisha Alien dream.  Then he said “You know, Michael (his brother) had a similar dream around that same time.” First I heard of it! 

Michael had a dream that really disturbed him, of a tall alien like creature he knew was female and “looked like a Geisha, he described it that way.” She had six fingers.

I never told his brother about my dream, only Jim. 

And how is it you can live with someone for forty-plus years, go through all kinds of unexplained and anomalous experiences together, talk about them endlessly, and yet, this “coincidence” of his brother’s dream and mine just went unmentioned? 

In Summary:

Well I just don’t know. I expected, despite the hypnotists assurances it wouldn’t work that way, to go super deep/under, like what we see on television with people recalling, eyes squeezed tight, their experiences in explicit detail. Me, it was just . . . a light drowsy time, I was fully awake and aware, and didn’t trust what I saw. Or at least, didn’t trust it as literal. 

Like dreams, where symbols stand in to represent something deeper, more, behind the often illogical image, my “recall” wasn’t literal. I don’t think. I mean, really, a large classic UFO saucer inside a garage in the middle of West Hollywood with a thirty foot tall female alien wearing a Geisha wig? 

But as the hypnotist said, when I told her all this, “it’s real on some level.” I agree with that. Scratching at the truth. It’s hard work. Is it worth it? Are there other ways to go about it? Why do some people remember so much while others do not?

Is there a there there, in other words? Is it worth going back for another session? I think so; I do have an appointment in two weeks. After that, I don’t know.

I’ve tried to get at this from a lot of angles: dream work,  art, tarot, writing, talking, connecting with others, research (I have a good four hundred books on UFOs and related subjects) and I still don’t know what happened.

First Hypnosis Session: Changed My Mind

 Changed my mind, but not about going through with the session. At first, I was going to explore the Orange Orb sighting. As I've blogged about before, so much disagreement between Jim and myself about that encounter. We do agree that there was missing time and an orange orb, but after that... so much we disagree about. And what we disagree about changes.

Too much to start off with. Too much to unpack.

Before the orange orb sighting, Jim and I had another missing time experience, this one, in Los Angeles (West Hollywood.) We agree on everything. How we felt, what we saw, the missing time, and so on. No disagreements. We simply don't know what happened. Not to mention why. 

Were we drugged? Coming back from Barney's Beanery, a pub pool hall we visited a few times a week. In fact, that's where Jim and I met for the first time. But, who would drug both of us, and why? Nothing was missing, we didn't have vague feelings of unease or assault. 

So, a mystery. After a week long discussion, I decided to start off with that night instead of the orange orb in Oregon sighting. 

Tomorrow is the day. It might reveal nothing, it might reveal something odd but mundane, or . . . who knows.

The West Hollywood Missing Time:

Jim and I are walking back from Barney's Beanery in West Hollywood. We see a strange light. Or rather, not so strange, but we felt strange. There was just something very weird about it. We stop and look at it. The light is coming from underneath a garage door type thing. There's a long ramp like driveway or something like that leading to it. For some reason, we feel uncomfortable and Jim turns to me and says "Yeah, let's get out of here." I agree.

We enter the apartment, which he shares with his brother and mother. I've been living there for awhile. When we get inside we are very surprised at the time. It's 3 a.m. or so! It's taken us a couple of hours to walk back -- what?! We agree it's weird, very weird, but laugh it off and go right to bed. No discussion on the weird light or missing time. We wake up, go out into the living room. His mom and brother are surprised to see us. "I thought you two were long gone!" says his mother. She tells us she assumed we had left early because it was so quiet in our room, not a sound. At no time did either of us leave the room to use the bathroom, etc. Jim and I are stunned to find it is four o'clock in the afternoon!

North Carolina Orange Orbs

From the Singular Fortean Society: A  North Carolina witness describes his sighting of several orange orbs in 2014. He felt the same way I did when I saw a huge orange orb in Oregon decades ago:

"When I got out of the car and they were right there it was almost like they were attracted to me; like they picked up on me and were like, 'Here’s us, here’s what we are.' To me it was friendly, like a friendly interaction. I know it’s so weird to say interaction, but to me it felt that way."

I had the strong impression "my" orb was waiting for me, and when it saw that I was aware of it, it then interacted with me. I felt silly feeling this way but that's how it felt.  

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. 

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.

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."

Indeed.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

"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?