Azarath, Paranormal Oil, Mean Nun

 Yes, the dreaming mind. Mystical weirdness:

 

The other night, dreamt I was driving a motorcycle up a steep hill. The hill was almost straight up and down. I was passing by all kinds of shops, open doors, tiny storefronts, selling all kinds of wares from all over the world. I stop by one and don't have a good feeling. The owner, a man, says he is Azarath, and he's red and black. A slightly satanic vibe but nothing Christian about it. Not that simplistic.

When I woke up I was thinking Azarath was the name of a goddess or god. It is in fact fantasy; DC comics. Which will probably seem obvious to many out there but news to me. An odd thing; yesterday I did a search for Azarath on a different browser and links came up defining it as a land beyond Israel. Today I'm on another browser and all that came up for Azarath was the DC reference.

Last night:

I'm with family, two of my sisters. We party all night but I don't, I don't drink or anything and turn in early. Next day is the last day of school, I graduate from college. Before the class I go to the grocery store and buy a special kind of oil: Paranormal Oil. If you rub it on your body you will be successful in your paranormal career. It cost eleven dollars. I bring it to the school and the teacher in charge, a nun, assumes it's for her and puts it in a display case. I'm upset because it's for me, and I want either the oil, or my money. 

This nun is mean. Really sarcastic nasty thing. She hands my paper back to me and whispers in my ear that she "should have given me a D but felt sorry for me." I still have two papers to hand in but I decide to let it all go. Forget school, I don't have to be here. Forget the paper, I know it's good. Forget the oil, she can do her witchy nun magick and I'll buy another bottle.

Debbie's Orange Orb UFO Diner

 

My dreaming mind:

A female relative of mine, a cousin? inherits a diner. Her name is Debbie. It's a cool looking diner, with a large counter and stools, lots of chrome, vinyl booths. Dome shaped, and huge picture windows all around. A diner in a fishbowl.  A happening place. It's two stories. Downstairs is the diner, upstairs are a few conference rooms. That's where I come in.

Debbie names the diner Debbie's Orange Orb UFO Diner. She appoints me Director of UFO Education and I'm in charge of the upstairs, arranging talks on the subject, workshops, etc. All to do with UFOs. 

On the diner's menu, is a blurb about "Don't forget to register for a talk in the Orange Orb room!" I post updates to the local paper. I have to add that I often post items I find interesting, but that doesn't mean I I always agree with them. I put it all out there open for discussion and debate and in general, to add to the data pile. The very large, huge, messy, tangled data pile.

 

White Orb Watercolor

 I have orbs on the brain. 

White Orb, watercolor on cold pressed paper, Regan Lee 2023

Why Won't Bigelow Share?

 Thinking about Skinwalker Ranch. The current owner, Brandon Fugal, states that Robert Bigelow won't share his findings with the new investigators. Why should he? It's his research. He's under no obligation to share. Yet, why won't he? Are we after the truth? Why so cagey? What's he keeping/hiding? No doubt a quasi top secret highly classified blah de blah contract with the government. Strange bedfellows and all that. Meanwhile, the Fugal team is busy busy busy and branching out to other ranches with similar highly anomalous episodes to investigate. And so is the government watching all this? Are they laughing their collective asses off? Surely they know what's going on. Do they? I don't know. It's all speculation. It can only be speculation. But that's what I'm here for.

It's entertainment, for sure. It's interesting, for sure. It's pretty obvious very strange stuff is going on out there, not just at the Skinwalker ranch but other nearby places as well. The area: Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, full of UFO sightings, cattle mutilations, Bigfoot, aliens, and more. Going back hundreds of years.

So something is definitely going on. As well as a lot of distraction and silliness. And questionable partnerships. Dr. Travis Taylor for example. Ex-CIA individuals now investigating high strangeness. Do we believe their connections  to their covert pasts are no longer viable?

Part para-tainment, part highly interesting paranormal mind candy, part we're-fucking-with-you-all-bless-your-hearts. Wikipedia isn't impressed. No surprise there.

I watch the program because I'm a glutton for almost anything to do with the paranormal, from UFOs to Bigfoot to ghosts to you name it. That doesn't mean I believe everything they're telling us, and I always wonder at what they're not telling us. And I can't help but wonder about the government. Someone in there knows what's really going on, or at least knows a lot more than what we're being told. I have a hard time believing  that the government -- some shadowy, spooky, black - op faction -- isn't aware of what's going on out there and has an interest. Is the current Skinwalker team in cahoots? Are they dupes? Who knows. Well, someone knows of course, but it's not us.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to enjoy watching Skinwalker and its "Beyond Skinwalker" episodes but keeping in mind that there is a lot more going on than we're being told. 

Cow Mutilations, Hollywood Sign, a Question, and Some Haiku

Colorado Ranch Cattle Mutilations

Watching this week’s episode of Beyond Skinwalker Ranch, which actually was pretty good. Investigators Andy Bustamante (ex-CIA, ahem) and Paul Beban went to the Thomas Miller Ranch in Colorado, where UFOs, cattle mutilations, electronic shenanigans and other odd events were taking place. Even as the parties were discussing the unexplained phenomena occurring around them, lights in their kitchen started to flicker in and out. Not only that, they seemed to be responding to what was being said. 

Typical cattle mutilations; the cuts, the precision, the lack of blood, the targeted organs removed, etc. Going over the data at the Skinwalker Ranch, which has had its own cattle mutilations, Dr. Travis Taylor said something that caught my attention regarding the bodies. I’m paraphrasing but he said something close to “They leave the bodies where they leave ‘em they can leave them anywhere that’s not a thing.” I understood him to mean it’s of no account, not important data, that the bodies are left right where they would be found. 

Questions

Right where they would be found. 

Why? Why return the bodies at all? And why return them to the same area? Do they want us to know? Want us to see? Why? Or is it just that “they” don’t have the room or patience to deal with a dead carcass and it’s a simple matter of convenience and it doesn’t mean anything at all? We don’t know, can only speculate. But it is an important question. Clearly, “they” want to be known. Not seen -- or at least, not seen as they are -- but known.

The Hollywood Sign

When I lived in Hollywood, California, friends and I would walk up to the Hollywood Sign.   Later, my now husband and I would walk up there all the time. On one hike up to the sign we found a cow bone. It looked exactly like a cow bone left on the NAME  ranch.  For some reason (romantic, nostalgia) I kept that bone all these decades . For awhile it lived inside the house on a bookshelf, later, I moved it to the garden, where, as you can see, all kinds of critters enjoyed taking nibbles and gnaws from it. It’s lasted oh, forty-five years I’d say. I don’t know if the bone came from someone’s cook-out or a ritual of some kind. (Seriously, I have come across some very weird and uneasy things in the hills and canyons of L.A.) I’m not suggesting the bone was a left-over from an alien/black ops mutilation. Simply a slightly strange episode.

Haiku

I wrote these over time; some are a few years old, some I wrote within the last year or so. By the way, I have a Facebook group called Haiku Daddy-O, you are welcome to join. It's not just about haiku but beat poetry, the arts, off beat and beatnik, jazz, irreverent musings, etc.

the Hollywood Hills

red tiled roofs and stucco

jasmine scents the dusk

*

The Observatory

orange haired woman sits

beneath  boxes of stars

*

Big D's stories

of Hollywood cops

watching his friend die

*

the Hollywood sign

"Saturn floats on our oceans"

a copper smog rains

*

Ivar St., Hollywood oil pastel on paper

Am I Jaded?

 This is what I posted on my Facebook group Orange Orb Paranormal:

Oh I don't know, am I jaded? Has it really happened? All this "disclosure" on UFOs (I refuse to say UAP) just seems like we've been here before. So many times, we've been here. And the government is all perky and being upfront. I say bull. They have an agenda, and it isn't because they are altruistic entities. Maybe some of the players are simply well meaning naive dupes, while others are far from it. But the whole current thing stinks.

Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

 Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

I’m reading Whitely Strieber's book, Them. In Them, Streiber has shared some of the hundreds of letters he and his late wife Anne received following the publication of Communion. Following each letter, or group of letters, Strieber offers his own thoughts on the contents. His comments are extremely interesting; metaphysical, philosophical. He asks questions and goes off in directions that 

In one chapter, Streiber discusses the experiences of those who have heard strange sounds during alien being/OOBE/exploding head/ events. Buzzings, ringing, train like sounds, rumblings, and more. 

As I’m reading this section, I wonder where the “aliens” are. (I say alien but that does not necessarily mean ET. As Streiber is very clear -- and I agree -- we don’t know what “they” are. ET, alien, other, who knows.) I wonder why I haven’t had many experiences lately (and yet I have, just different) not as intense as they once were. Old age? Does that have anything to do with any of this? Am I paying enough attention? I decide as I put away my Kindle and drift off to sleep, that I will start paying close attention!

I’m awakened by the phone ringing. Just one loud phone ring, then nothing. Like the caller hung up after one ring. I’m very annoyed, who the hell calls at 3:00 a.m.? Unless it’s bad news, usually. Could be a misdial. The phone did not wake up Jim, who usually hears the phone before I do. “Hmm,” I think, and go back to sleep. 

Check the phone in the morning. We have a land line. The machine lets us know if any calls, including hang-ups, came in. Nothing.

(Reminds me of what I posted about recently; hearing a voice shout out “Nigel!”)

This all could be connected to the phenomenon. UFOs, aliens, interactions with “them,” others, inter-dimensional creatures, our own minds communicating with the unseen, intention setting, them answering the call, synchronicity.

Or, as they call it, “chemo brain” and has nothing to do with any of the above. But I doubt that. This phone ringing episode is too familiar, smoothly fitting in with all of the other weird synchronicities connected with this whole UFO and Beyond stuff. 

Green Cactus-Lizard Being

 

Green Warty Cactus Being, oil pastel and pencil

For awhile after my orange orb sighting in Oregon, I was having many weird paranormal episodes. This is one.

It was early evening, late afternoon. Not quite dinnertime. I was reading on the bed in the bedroom. I forget what I was reading, very likely a mystery. I felt fine, the day was fine, everything, fine. Without warning I was propelled into a scene. I call this a "mind post card" -- it was as if someone has inserted this scene, complete with sound, smell, taste, into my head. I was actually there. 

I found myself in a desert with boulders all around, It appears I startled this being, who was squatting dow and doing something, like digging in the rocky sand.  He turned to me and was not at all happy I was  in his territory. I received the very clear message that I did not belong there, and I was to get out. I was to get out now!

This being was humanoid, sort of. Not exactly lizard like, more cactus like, if a cactus become a bipedal being. Green with red eyes and spiky warty things all over his body. He seemed to be about four feet tall. 

The whole thing lasted maybe ten seconds but it was so intense, so damn real, that I screamed. Then I found myself back on the bed, back in my reality. It scared the hell out of me. I've had similar experiences like this where I was "lifted" out and placed into another scene, someone else's reality.

Messages, Whistleblowers and Trust

Whitley Strieber was the guest last night on Coast to Coast. (He has a new book out; Them.) One thing Strieber said that resonated with me concerned whistleblowers. Streiber stated he didn’t trust government whistleblowers in the context of UFOs because they never seem to get “dinged.” I’ve often wondered the same thing. Ex-military, ex-government guys come out, appear on TV shows, podcasts, and radio, and spill the UFO beans. And then walk about freely without repercussions. Some say they are harassed, but they seem to handle it. I’ve always been suspicious of these kinds of whistleblowers. How much is true, if any of it? Why are the individuals allowed to tell their stories? How much is misinformation, disinformation and, no information at all, just narratives to distract?

There have been people who have disappeared, been found dead under questionable circumstances, and harassed by black helicopters, MIB, and electronic manipulations. How much of the information those individuals let out was true? Hidden in plain sight?

How much was show, how much was distraction? 

Whitely also said not to believe the aliens/visitors/ETs. They have messages, oh yes. Just because they tell us something doesn’t mean it’s true. I’ve been saying that for years.

So much, this maze of lies, cover-ups, half-truths, disinformation, misinformation, distractions, and more. . . we shouldn't forget that disclosure is only what "they" decide to reveal. How much, how little, when, and how. Pay attention to the timing, the context, the history, the juxtapositions. 

Stop the Selling and Farming of Our Alien Overlords (Petition)

Petition to stop the killing and farming of octopi. 

If you haven't seen My Octopus Teacher, here's a link. My one criticism of the documentary is the filmmaker's justification for not getting involved when he most absolutely should have. 

A Train, Jeff Goldblum and an Alien Assignment

 Okay dreaming mind is visiting alien motifs again. This time. . .

I'm given a writing assignment in class. A combination of work/school. The assignment: describe yourself if you were an ET. What do you look like, what can you do, etc. I write a good two or three pages before I realize I haven't yet described what I look like as an alien. Just that I am an alien, and flying at night above a train, looking for Jeff Goldblum. I find him! He's alone in a car. Soft yellow light. A Edward Hopper painting feel.  My heart is a-flutter. Jeff Goldblum! I found him at last. Sigh. 

I remember now that I am to describe myself as an alien. However, I am really truly an alien, this is really happening, and the writing assignment is the dream, the unreal part. As an ET, I am winged. Blues and greens. Something of a flying mermaid fairy being. I realize I should change into human form so I don't scare off Jeff Goldblum. Wouldn't want to startle the poor man.

Edward Hopper

Geometric Oracle Dream

 

The other day I posted about hearing a voice call out "Nigel!"

Last night I dreamt that I was telling Barbara Fisher (host of the podcast Six Degrees of John Keel) about this experience. As I was telling Barbara about the voice, she was giving a reading to someone. The deck was not a traditional tarot deck, but an oracle card deck, one that had geometric shapes on them. Each shape was very important. It all had to do with fractal geometry. As she was explaining the meanings to the client, ectoplasm appeared around her, and white-golden shimmering light.

Next to me was Jim, wearing one of his McMinnvilee UFO Fest t-shirts. A man walked by, pointed at Jim and said "Oh yeah, we got you! Have to talk to you about this!"

And that is all.

The D Word

 The D Word

Disclosure, disclosure

       disinformation

distraction, decoys

       deflection

denial, debunking

disingenuous       

debris-fields, deserts

       deep-dives.

Who is Nigel?

Weird experience last night. Since going through chemo, I've had a hard time getting to sleep at night. As usual, my brain was going a million miles a second until three in the morning. Suddenly I hear, very distinct, loud and sharp, Jim yell from the living room "NIGEL!!" 

Naturally I wondered what the heck was Jim doing out in the living room at three a.m, and, who the hell is Nigel? (Our only animal friend in the house is a cat and his name is Mango.) I then realize Jim is right next to me, sound asleep. As was Mango.

Kind of spooky. I was awake. 

Nigel: name meaning and origin - BabyCentre UK: 11 is one of the two "master numbers" of numerology. Those who possess it are highly intuitive, and have a strong sense of spirituality.

The number 11 is known as a "master number" because it has its own unique and powerful vibrations. Those influenced by it tend to find inner strength in times of trial, coping well with crisis and chaos. 

Also odd: Mango is eighteen. Poor guy has a cataract, is deaf in one ear, and for the past year has been meowing/crying at night. He sleeps on the bed with us but gets up a lot and will start his yowling when he's out in the living room. Then he starts up again around six a.m. Last night he was very calm and didn't yowl at all. He had left the bedroom at some point and slept on the couch in the living room, which I found surprising since I hadn't heard him cry.

Everything Here All At Once

 I'm just going to throw it all out here. I have many blogs, some which I can't access due to massive Google/Blogger fuck ups. And after fifteen years or more of blogging I have no idea what passwords were when where... 

So the Orange Orb is all about UFOs. The things themselves, cases old and new, my own experiences, my friends, my armchair research, my rants,UFO Land,  ghosts, aliens, crytpids, and all manner of Fortean weirdness. Always.

But also art and poetry and writing and who the hell knows. Stay tuned. Please. Thanks.