Harvesting abductees on mirror worlds.

a futuristic car

These next dreams were audio-recorded on cassette two hundred and fourteen and to be found in volume XXII of the dream opus when published.  At the time, it was Saturday, June 15, 1996 and the Moon then transited both Gemini and my first house. 

There were two sleep cycles that day; chiefly, this was the case because it was a Saturday.  More than that, I tended towards multiple sleep cycles because on awaking I would remain in bed to record the dreams.  More often than not, while still in bed, I would then resort to reading, incessantly talking on the phone or indulging in protracted auto-eroticism.  All three activities usually left one inclined towards slipping back into sleeps warm embrace. 

Without the distraction of television – a vacuous medium that I have never favoured, I was more often than not likely to return to sleep.  Besides, television-watching is nothing more than sleeping while awake; one is merely being mind-controlled and rendered vegetative, inert…unfocussed.  Charmant. 

Speaking of being mind-controlled, the next dreams deal with just such a phenomenon.  However, in this case, it addressed the phenomenon as it pertains to human and extra-human relations.  The first dream was a rather insightful one. 

As ever, sweet dreams and for your support, I am grateful.  I love you more! 


Here, in this the first dream, it was sunny out.  I found myself in the most marvellous pastoral landscape.  I stood by a growth of the most glorious tall trees.  The vibration here was so very Zen.

Although it seemed pastorally Bavarian, this seemed to have been somewhere here in North America.  Just beyond where I stood, there was some commotion in the woods.

The people there were really concerned; they thought that there was something slightly suspect about the vibrations.  Then I saw a beautiful, incredibly aerodynamic, midnight blue-to-black car.

The car was shaped not unlike the Bat mobile, in the Batman movies, though it much more aerodynamic.  Soon, it became abundantly evident that it wasn’t really of this age, time or even of Earth.

Someone spoke up and asked if it was not an EHV (extra-human vehicle or UFO).  My suggestion was that it would be most unusual to find an EHV that small in size.  What would be the point of hazarding the exigencies of space travel, as it were, in such a tiny bubble?

The car then began going down the road and crossed my field of vision from right to left.  Indeed, the futuristic car was really in back of where I had been standing.  At the time, I had been looking at the field ahead and being completely energised by it.

Pushing back the horizon some, a beautiful rolling plain stretched out before me.  The grass zinged with more negative ions than usual.  Standing there, while drinking in the rejuvenating essence of the inspiring landscape, I flew without moving.

In the midst of moving down the road, the car suddenly took to the air.  This indeed was no human technology.  Now I knew why the locals had expressed cause for concern.  This was clearly a piece of EH technology.

The next question to my mind was who then were the EHs among us?  The car had a rudder but I can’t now recall whether it was on the rear or front hood.  Strangely enough, the rudder was not on the underside of the car but above the hood.

The EHV shuttle had sprouted the rudder-like appendage on lifting off.  I am almost certain that the rudder was in the front of the car.  The rudder-like extension was a guidance system’s antenna or radar.

A honing devise of some sort it possibly was which was, somehow, connected to something that was much beyond our immediate perception.  Perhaps, whatever it was had been stationed in another dimension.

Naturally, self-preservation-cum-fear had all the locals immediately fleeing in a mad dash.  I suppose that I really ought not to have but I also did the same.  While fleeing, I looked off to the right down to a lower road and along the field.

There, I saw Óli Þór; this man has a decided animus towards me – his problem.  Considering his animus towards me, I passingly thought that he likely was an extra-human mole among us.

What one intuited was that there were persons among us who, though seemed human enough, were extra-humans with a ton of biogenetic implants.  Basically, they were extra-human-grown humans who were hybrid extra-humans.

Their task in the world was to serve as sentinels for their off-planet species.  This I was told by my astral plane guides.  Additionally, it was made clear to me that this was more common than not.  Apparently, extra-humans preferred to go planetside on an alien planet during the dimension of the dreamtime.

The dreamtime was said to comprise several levels of realities and dimensions with which humans were not yet familiar.  This was seen as all-around much more expedient and, from the standpoint of the waking state, the chances of inimical repercussions were nil.

For instance, it was possible for some extra-humans to implant humans.  This was done not in the waking state but rather in what was considered the dreamtime.

This was possible on humans and most other unaware species which were not yet spacefaring.  Apparently, there was a veil that was crossed when one became a spacefaring species and began interacting with other species.

At such time, when a species made the transition from a planetary to a spacefaring civilisation, these other DRs (Dimensional Realities) became known to the newly emergent spacefaring species.  Rare it was, though not impossible, to perform waking state abductions for reasons of creating implants and hybrid species; however, this was not necessary since DR (Dimensional Reality) made it possible.

There were, though, some species which excelled at physical plane interstellar travel and exclusively did perform abductions.  These species tended to collect species samples and as such they the collected samples were proven invaluable; such abductor species did trade among some species in abducted species and hybridised species that could prove beneficial for either trade or scientific research.

Resultantly, such an abductor extra-human species could supply another species with sample humans or human hybrids.  This abducted human commodity could be used when traded for medicinal reasons, as food, exotica or labour.

Humans, or any other such non-spacefaring species, were non-the-wiser for losing a few of their lot to such abductions.  Normally, the species which tended to abduct did so because they had a propensity towards indexing and cataloguing.  This they undertook by way of creating living museums for newly discovered sentient species.

If need be, they could then farm such species on synthetic worlds that mirrored the abducted species’ homeworld.  The farmed abductees could then be harvested for trade to several species for labour, medicine or food.

Callous though it would seem, I was assured by my guides that there were multiple synthetic mirror worlds where abductees were reared and harvested.   Voilà… there you have it.

Naturally, there was a culture of rogue species which made it their business to capture such synthetic worlds.  They sought out these synthetic mirror worlds to get the lion’s share of the valuable, farmed extra-human cargo.

In essence, these species would be pirates who interrupted trade and waged wars to just such ends.

*Enfin, plus que ça change, change jamais be it on a global or galactic scale.  END.

In any event, such implants allowed the extra-humans to monitor their sentinels from anywhere in the known universes.  Again, I was assured by the astral guide with me, that this was possible thanks to the expediencies that DR afforded during the conduit of the dreamtime.

Thus, whenever one of their sentinels was in the dreamtime, it was perfectly possible for the spacefaring extra-humans to monitor what was going on Earth.  A very interesting proposition it was.

To say the least, their sentinels were dream adepts thanks to their implants.  These persons didn’t necessarily know that they were extra-human implants or for that matter ever recalled their dreams.  The latter, I was assured was more often than not the norm than the rule.

*So, don’t you even continue thinking for one nanosecond,

“You see, so he is one of those extra-human hybrids with the DR implant!”

I am on to you!  I am perfectly human; for being older-souled, I merely use more of the brain than most as this is predominantly a young-souled world.  Too, I am as I am thanks to having chosen to be dream-focussed in this lifetime.  END.

Cutting across the open field, on fleeing the possible outbreak of inimical extra-human activity, we all moved from left to right.  We had had to hastily move from a higher plane to another.

Who should pass on my left as I fled but Patrick Loews which left me flabbergasted.  I could not believe my eyes; here was he overtaking me when in excess of 250 pounds.

For being in shape in the waking state, while running here in the dreamtime, I felt really good and in control.  What chiefly I noticed was that I had increased stamina; this was probably why it hadn’t occurred to me to have simply pushed off and flown away.

Then I made the most ghastly discovery, Patrick had been an abductee.  Khaki pants and white shirt were all well and fine; he, however, was not wearing shoes.

Barefooted, I noticed that there was definitely something askance with Patrick.  His feet had been cut off, just above the ankles, then reattached.  As a result, he ran with the heels in the front and the toes in the back.

Definitely, there were little shades of Kansas here.

Running forwards, yet his feet facing back, he was a truly surreal sight.  More than Patrick’s anatomically-challenged body, the sight of those pinned-on-backwards feet were a truly bizarre actuality.

Patrick, it can be said, possesses an ectomorphically-challenged body.  Following the crowds took me to a residential area where we arrived at a beautiful collegiate complex.

Clearly, it was a private school much like Eton or Upper Canada College.  There were some High-Yellow kids but mostly Whites and East Asians.  This was a school for wealthy kids.  One had a sense that it was somewhere in England.

An ancient stone balustrade was covered with moss and served as the favourite hangout of the school kids.  There was one High-Yellow girl who was quite captivating; she really turned me on.

She was talking about the upcoming marathon.  Apparently, there was a mile-long marathon being run around a course.  I immediately set out on the course and was, in fact, in the lead from the outset.

When I was fleeing to the residential area, I ran into a woman who much reminded me of my first cousin, Maya do Aragão.  She had been the one to get the marathon started by firing the starter gun.  Allen Weston was there as well.

I had assumed that for being taller, Allen would have outrun me.  I had kept up my pace, however, and he had never overtaken me.  Then at the end of eight laps, I stopped to ask exactly how many laps we were expected to complete.

I explained that I had assumed that it would be a two-lap race.  Since everyone kept on running, I explained that so did I.  Yet, it seemed to me that no one quite knew what they were doing.  Was it in fact a ten-lap marathon?

I was convinced that two laps was a mile as we ran through the narrow, old world streets of a fairly large, old English town.  Although there were times that it seemed as if one were running in Sandy Point, St. Kitts, I didn’t quite know where I was.

Then, at one point, I came onto a street where there I saw Gita Gurucharan as she walked to a bus stop.  We were both debating whether or not we ought to have interacted with the other.

By this part of the marathon, I was on a bike and no longer running laps.  Looking down at my spandex-suited body, I became suddenly self-conscious.

Somehow, I thought that Gita would think that I was sick with HIV or AIDS.  Clearly, I had lost weight since she had last seen me; understandably, this would be cause for her to have thought the worse when considering how and of what Merlin had died.

In the end, I really didn’t care.  Gita took the initiative and came over and warmly greeted me.  I briefly paused, since I didn’t want to lose my place or focus in the marathon.

She said that she was now working professionally but no longer in the acting world.  Then I asked after Srivatsan Gurucharan, her son, even though I had only met him the one time.

*In August 1991 when he was four months old and suffering colic and felt like the oldest-souled person that I had ever encountered, I first met Srivatsan.  After having met him, I had the most massive simultaneous stomach and head aches then went home and uncontrollably wept.  Strangely, at the time, I had no clue why I had responded as I had.  END.

I explained to her that I have had more dreams of Srivatsan than even of Bipasha Gurucharan, his older sister.  Indeed, I added, I almost never dream of Bipasha.

Gita laughed before announcing that Srivatsan was such a little terror to which we both laughed.  I told her that more often than not, whenever I dreamt of Srivatsan, he was with her rather than his father, Oberon Samuelson.

Gita then said that she thought that was an interesting take on things because she and Srivatsan do get along rather well.  Standing there in the dream and lucidly self-aware, I fully believed her.

Then Gita gave me a handful of mail that had been sent to us, Merlin and me, as well as my family.  She announced that she was on her way to work; by that, she meant that she worked for the post office.

Wearing my black turtleneck, I placed the mail inside the GAP turtleneck close to my neck.  Seeing that the mail would only get soaked from my profuse sweating, I went and asked the same High-Yellow beauty how many more laps there were.  She said that there were 34 laps in all.

Indeed, it may have been naïve of me to have taken her word at face value.  I soon realised that she and her clique were upset that I was the race’s frontrunner.  They may simply have allowed the race to have indefinitely continued on indefinitely to exhaust undesirables like me.

During our interaction, the young High-Yellow was really snooty with me.  Truth be told, there was an entire lap between the person in second position and me.  Something had gone wrong for Allen Weston who had had to stop for a long time.

He had been, to that point, running in second position.  I decided that since I had such a commanding lead in the race, I should perhaps have just headed home and dropped off the mail.

Since I had not had anything to eat, I thought that there was no way that I could have gone for all 34 laps on an empty stomach.  I needed to at least have gotten home, dropped off the mail and bulked up on some food.

En route to making it home, I had had to go beneath an overpass.  The darkness created by the overpass had caused me to blackout and eventually awaken.


green peppers


I went off into a patch with a man, in this the first dream, beneath a dense growth of tall ancient-looking trees.  The dream was set at nighttime.  He went off to an open area and invited me with him.

Soon, we were digging our fingers into the soft plush earth and coming up with all manner of food.  I had even managed to have gotten some green peppers – and large ones too, from the ground.

I was really pleased to have made the discovery.  What’s more, the ground was very warm with the dark rich earth letting off steam at times.

*The only reason for having dreamt of food, which I ate ravenously, was because of the Safeway strike in the waking state.  This has meant that I have not been eating all that well – with regards getting the usual fresh fruits and vegetables.  END.

I hungrily ate the lettuce.  He then pointed out that that was not all that there was.  He said that I would not believe the size of the potatoes.  The peppers were so large and, for being as warm as they were, were juicy on biting into them.

The potatoes turned out to have been the biggest things imaginable; they looked more like cantaloupes than not.  The potatoes looked almost animalistic.  There were tubers that sprouted from them.

The more that we dug up, the more that they looked like watermelons in size than not.  They were so appetising-looking that I straightaway began biting into one of them and hungrily ate it.

Making a feast of things, I simply collapsed on the ground and began chomping down.

*I awoke from this dream, called up Liam Sommers – after having recorded the dreams, and demanded that we head out to Granville Island and shop for the real healthy organic fare.  We had a great time too.  END.


Photo credits: stock photo concept car

Stock photo extra-large peppers

Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

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Glimmers of Japanese past-life/essence twin and multiple extra-humans.

Chameleon lizard

These next dreams, I have chosen because of their thematic nature.  They are dreams which dealt with encounters with extra-humans.  Too, they were dreams which involved flight and being able to render oneself invisible when it proved prudent to have done so. 

These were truly marvellous adventures in consciousness. 

At the time of these dreams, Merlin was then incarnate.  Too, I was working at Mount Pleasant Cemetery as a flagrantly tree-hugging landscaper. 

As was the custom, while I was off working, Merlin would listen to the day’s dreams recorded earlier on awaking.  As I rode up path to our 20 Amelia Street home in toney Cabbagetown, Merlin threw open the front door and unabashedly greeted me with arms wide open,

“Hello, my wonderful, darling magical Lamb!” 

I, of course, who knew what blessing-for-a-lucid-dream was this life of mine – being happily ensconced with über-magical, happening, groovy shaman, Merlin – threw my head back and roared for joy.  I effortlessly scrambled up the few steps, reached in and kissed the love, pride and beauty of spirit off his warm full lips, then put aside the bike. 

We then retreated to the bedroom where we squinged up (spooned) with the cats, Zora and Whoopi close by as our souls purred and tightly held on at the good fortune for having found each other in these marvellous lives of ours. 

Love is such a beautiful precious flower.  To celebrate these dreams, Merlin had ventured down the village to Daniel et Daniel – still there – at 248 Carlton Street and gotten a sinfully gorgeous cheesecake covered in raspberries – my very favourite fruit.  As a celebration of the dreams to follow, Merlin decided to get me a slice before dinner; he was in the early stages of what would prove Candida so graciously chose to have none. 

Merlin and I spoke at length, while I wolfed down the healthy slab of cheesecake, of the ideas explored in the dreams.  Too, we philosophically explored the notion of the Christ construct as encountered in the dream.  Scholar soul to the core, playing devil’s advocate but, more importantly, engaging in discourse was Merlin’s birthright. 

At the time, it was Wednesday, July 5, 1989 and the Moon then transited both Leo and my third house.  Incidentally, my Sun in Leo is to be found in third house as for that matter is Venus conjunct Uranus.  This rather fortuitous aspect allows a five-channel inputter like Artisan soul moi to be inordinately inspired and attuned to ideas and visions on a grand scale beyond the merely planetary. 

Of course, that all this occurs in the third house, it allows yours truly to awaken and recall dream experiences in their unfiltered state which would otherwise be likely near impossible to pull off.  Indeed, these dream blogs would not exist were it not for that auspicious placement of Sun and Venus/Uranus conjunction in the third house. 

The dreams were audio-recorded on the twelfth cassette and to be found in the II volume of the XXV volume dream opus.  Sweet and groovy lucid dreams be yours.  Fly and if necessary fly while having rendered oneself invisible – which I can assure you takes more energy than merely flying in the fully visible projected astral body.  All the dreams recalled that day are not herein included. 

I love you more. 


I was, in this the fourth dream, in a darkened room.  At the time, there was a window out which I was looking at someone who was light-complected.  He had an unusual forehead; his forehead was rather high at that.

He seemed to be Kevin Pugh; Kevin, of course, danced with the National Ballet of Canada and won Silver at the competitions in Moscow in 1981.  This, though, was not Kevin Pugh; however, I initially thought that it was Kevin ‘Plasma’ Pugh.

The young man had unusual eyes.  I was knocking on the window pane in a bid to get his attention and that was when he had lowered his head.  He had done so as he sat on the window ledge with his right profile closer with his right leg drawn up; too, his left leg dangled off the ledge.

He was crouched over and I saw his face as though in close-up.  His eyes were large and his nose was unusually long and beaklike.

*This was a clue because so were the noses of the people in the dream on February 16, 1989 when I had travelled to another dimension and experienced an extra-human civilisation.

He had eyes that were very light-coloured and honey-brown.  They had a gold bar around the outer edge of the iris which, not surprisingly, were split open by vertically aligned pupils.  They were very light-coloured eyes.

I noticed that his left eye moved like the eye of a particular species of lizards’ eyes.  That is to say that each eye could move in a totally opposite direction and independent of the other.  They could go up and down sideways and to the front and rear; they looked like the telescopically protruding eyes of that particular species of lizards – for example, panther chameleons.

Quite remarkably, he kept lowering his head but as he did so, he kept turning around his eye to the back and up to keep his gaze hypnotically fixed on me.  In that sense, he had looked forward and around then up and back at me – all in one very slow, sweepingly hypnotic arched movement.

This was a movement that we humans are incapable of achieving with our optical arrangement.  At that point, I realised that there was a deep connection between me and this person.  I had initially mistaken him for Kevin Pugh; of course, that was because of the light-skinned complexion and the fact that he was also a dancer.

I soon, though, realised that this was definitely a connection between me and a probable self in a parallel continuum.  I found it very interesting.  As a result, I moved on and quietly let him be; I allowed myself totally its integrity in all its probable manifestations.

*Kevin Pugh’s Michael Overleaves are now to be found in the Michael Overleaves Appendix page.  END.



In this the fifth dream, I was back at the house because I had accompanied a couple with a small child.  At the time, the child was upstairs taking a nap; he was in the same room where the guy was lying down.  I was lying with the guy who was White and he was with his girlfriend.

He suggested that I go over and sleep on the other side where the child was.  He had a lot of red blotches all over his body.  Presently, he was talking on to his blonde girlfriend whose features were rather unusual; hers was an unusual-shaped face.  Basically, he had wanted to screw.

She was not a human who was native to Earth; rather, she was astra-human of some extra-human heritage not previously encountered.  I sat outside on the veranda and it was unusually black out.  I had listened to hear them make love but hadn’t really heard anything.

Next to me, there was a mat made of blue fabric.  There were two tiny little strips on said mat that was folded up.  On the strips were some Sanskrit writing.  I realised that they were holders for chopsticks which I found rather interesting.

I was then underneath a house when I went downstairs.  Strangely, it was like being beneath a partition as I looked out and there across the courtyard area was a guy at the back of the opposite house.

I started to take a poop when he noticed me and came out.  He exposed himself and was rather large-sexed; he was White.  He was a very pretty young guy.  He started laughing and seemed happy to see me.

I reached across the parameter of my building and went to grab him but he pulled back because he was very nervous.  Then he started explaining that up until he was 34, he was married but he had always known that he likely was Gay.

He told me his life history and that he had spent a great deal of time being anguished; however, he now finally thought that he was beginning to come out.  Said he, it wasn’t until he had seen me and gotten aroused but that he had never before had any such feelings.

He had always though that, perhaps, it was the case.  Until I had appeared, however, he hadn’t been able to act on those feelings.  Though he expressed surprise at his response him, he said that he was glad that it had happened.

He then quickly got nervous as, at this point, I was fully naked.  Somebody came out; it proved to have been a mother or a wife.  She was a large woman.  Immediately, I lied down on the ground and he quickly tossed the blanket at me.  I nimbly covered myself and pretended to have been sleeping.

After he had told her that I was just someone visiting the neighbour and was sleeping, she then went back into the house.  So the woman didn’t see that I was naked or what was figuratively going on beneath the covers between him and me.

She went back into the house and the guy came back out and this time appeared two Oriental; Japanese men, they wore traditional garb.  One of them was rather handsome and young and smiled at me.  He had a dish of food that he was eating.

I was amazed at the way that he could hold the chopsticks and how much food he could hold within the chopsticks as he ate.  He was eating very sticky rice in a very light green leafy paste.  He was eating and rather enjoying the food.  He then very good naturedly came and joined me by sitting on the fabric next to me.

I could see his right profile and was watching his face and admiring him.  He and his other friend had been talking about me and they were rather warm and inviting towards me.  His eyes were remarkably like mine which I made me intensely lucid and self-aware.

*I found this rather interesting, on awaking, because I had asked before sleep during meditation to experience my Japanese past-life when I was a priest.  Perhaps, these were glimmers to that particular past-life.

Too, so many years after having dreamt this dream, I have since learnt that my essence twin has reincarnated in the 1990s and is Eurasian of Japanese heritage and living in Germany.  I may well have been tuning into this truly beautiful man.  END.


cauliflower people

This, the sixth, was a most unusual dream.  There was a combative area below while I was seated in a protected area. I was so placed for being Black.  There were some definite racist elements about and it had to do with a neo-Nazi group.

They believed in Jesus and what Jesus Christ meant to them.  These persons were fanatics.

There was a large backdrop, a tapestry, which was showing Christ bleeding for so many people.  This, however, was a different version of the Christ story than we have in this continuum/anchor point civilisation.

For these neo-Nazi extra-humans, Christ dying for them meant that this icon of Christ murdered was a reminder that they too were vulnerable and could be obliterated like he was.

Hence all non-Christ-like people had to be obliterated; that, of course, meant that all non-White people had to be eliminated.  Here was I non-White and so I had to be protected.  More to the point, I had to think of protecting my hide against this madness.

*This is all well and fine from a White tribal perspective but little does this same collective psyche realise that they own the dubious distinction of glorifying the murder of a Great Master, Christ, who appeared among them.  Though the other great masters were murdered: Siddhartha Gautama ‘Buddha’, Sri Krishna and Lao-Tzu; they, however, have not been glorified by way of their murder being the most iconic symbol associated with them.

Yet, as if to deny making this realisation in plain sight, the penultimate icon of Christendom has been of Christ murdered on the cross.  As if this in any way mitigates his having been murdered or more importantly, what it says about such a people.  Theirs is a predatory civilisation.

Of course, that the term racial predator has never been acknowledged by academia speaks volumes about the denial of a civilisation.  Alas, this was deftly validated and acted out by the blood-letting and genocides in the name of Christ in the New World.  END.

There were many lined up around us and they were some also Black children around.  We were totally outnumbered.  There was a declaration that it was now okay to hunt undesirables.  Persons were protecting me on my right and left.

I had no weapons and theirs, in fact, were futuristic weapons.  The predatory guys were dressed in all kinds of formal dress; they were fitted in all manner of head gear and machinery.

Next, someone in my group started shooting over to the right side.  However, what they had done was quite cunning; they had shot totally deceptively because both parties were waiting for the other party to make the first move.

They were being manipulated into turning to the right to defend themselves.  When they had, from the right and left, the predatory guys started attacking them to the left.  Too, they attacked from the rear because they were in profile looking out to the right.

From that position, they could see what was going on across the combat field.  Naturally, they had looked in that direction to see why there should be fighting in their camp because that was what it appeared to have been.

In point of fact, there was a giant blowtorch and many of the guys in the rear of the flank were blowtorched.  As this happened, we saw a large face; it was in place of the tapestry of Christ.  Now, however, the large face was burnt out as the guys in the room were burnt.

There was now a skull that was bleeding fire from the eyes and mouth.  The skull was an unusual-shaped affair to a human one.  For one thing, they were quite large eye sockets.  For another, they came in quite narrow towards the chin and the mouth area.

They were looking for someone named, Vincent.  They had shot over the roof of the pavilion where we were held up.  They were able to knock off the people down on the combat field and then they had gotten up onto a railing.  There were persons there on the pavilion seemed to be Australians; rather, their species name sounded like Australianae or some such.

They were a very large and bulbous extra-human species; this was a most unusual race of people.  They seemed to be wearing football padding; however, they were large-bodied relative to Earthly humans.

There was then a group of tiny Whites; they were hobbit-like and carried clubs in their hands.  They were a very silent race who seemed to exclusively communicate by being telepathic.

One of the guys in my group took away a club and started beating the Hobbit-like Whites with it.  The club was like the handle of a pick axe.  I soon joined in and started beating them down as they tried scaling the railings to make it to our section of the pavilion.

The Black children had then come running towards me in the protected section of the pavilion.  I had also called them to come closer because they could have been in danger down close to the railings where they were.

This I had done after my side had overpowered the other guys.  I was high up in the whitewash and blue stands of the pavilion.

I had then gotten inside a nearby building where there were mounds of food like peppers all stacked up.  All these foods were strange and unusual.  Too, they were clustered together and they seemed to have had the ability to have independently moved about.

This, to say the least, I had found very intriguing.

At one point, I looked into a mirror at my face and I was slightly different-featured; however, they were my eyes.  I then noticed that there was white in my moustache which, however, seemed to have been moving.  On closer inspection, I then realised that they were tiny little ring worms.

I immediately thought to get rid of them and, to say the least, was left utterly horrified.

Here, there were stalls with many Black people displaying foods.  I had entered the market building through a window in slow flight.  I had been able to float about without clearly being observed; here, I was invisible while in flight.  This demanded more focussed energy from me than regular flight when astral-projected in the dreamtime on the astral plane.

The food seemed to be organic (sentient) and was able to move on its own just as I was able to.  There were other persons about and these extra-humans seemed to have been ‘food people’.  Their limbs were like clusters of vegetables attached together.  This astral plane-focussed dream was an alien terrain in which there were all kinds of people.  They were astra-human extra-humans of races that I had never before encountered.

There were some normal-sized Black people.  Additionally, there were some enormously fat, Boteroesque Black people.  They were not fat for being diabetic; rather, they were like the other large-bodied Whites here who had seemed to have been wearing football padding but who hadn’t been.  Those White extra-human persons were clearly giants who easily were in excess of 10 feet tall.

These Black people were also giants but they were unusually fat.  They could quite easily have toppled over because of their enormous size.  One of the fat Black giant extra-humans  had been tossed down a flight of stairs.

Joe Morton, the actor who starred in director, John Sayles’ Brother From Another Planet and friend of Merlin’s was there.  At the time, he was trying to reclaim his children.  He was, thankfully, able to have done so.

One of the children had fallen through and I had gone running downstairs to look for the child.  One of the giant Blacks had one of the children inside its pants.  The extra-human giant was making the child perform fellatio.  Then again, it seemed that the extra-human giant was more intent on eating the child.  I wasn’t quite clear on what the abductor had intended.

Then Bill Cosby, the African-American actor-comedian, had come down and had demanded to be allowed to reclaim his child.  As I have never liked this actor in the waking state, I soon shifted my focus away from him.

Later on while on a cot, there was a guy with me.  He had a very unusual back because his spine was rather wide and it came down and then his legs went up and straddled the side of his spine.

Quite simply, it was as though he had a much shortened tail.  There was a lot of space between his buttocks.  Unusually, his buttocks never rubbed together like humans’ do.

I was checking out his dick while he had his rump up in the air.  I was rubbing him to get him aroused; while doing so, I had stealthily snuck the child out of there when having made sly signals to Mr. Cosby.

Bill Cosby then got the big fat guy up and was pushing him into the corner and said,

“Why don’t you go over there and fuck this motherfucker?”

The guy on the cot was not fat.  Thus we were able to reclaim the children and hurry out of there.

*Again, another dream in which I was able to transcend this reality and travel to another anchor point metropolis.  While astrally projected in this newfound metropolis, I would discover several extra-human races.  There were at least four astra-human or extra-human races cohabiting in the same civilisation.

Indeed, I was able to experience humans who were vastly different to us humans found here on Earth.  Rather unique and unusual indeed.  What was interesting was that that period of warfare and infighting in that civilisation revealed much about people who worship Christ here on Earth.

Indeed, for worshiping Christ as he has become institutionalised by religion is to worship and perpetuate the culture of warfare and murder as Christ was murdered and the penultimate image of Christ, especially in the Catholic faith, is of Christ murdered wearing a crown of thorns.  Not surprisingly, that culture has known millennia of staged warfare and blood-letting.

Here, in this anchor point civilisation, Christ as such was an icon of warfare and nihilism.  Christ was a symbol of much fear and a symbol of war.  Too, he was called Jesu Christi in this dimension.  He seemed of decided reptilian stock and was a real sadistic blood-hungry boor; how’s that for an archetype?


Photo credits: Stock photo of Chameleon lizard.

Hand-colored print, Japan, circa 1870. Provenance: Sturgis Bigalow Collection. Gift of Mary Lothrop. Peabody Museum, Harvard University.

Cauliflower on display

Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Actors, African-Americans, American Art, American Artists, Animals, Artists, Award-winning artist, Black creative artists, Dream Shamanism, Dream travel to distant worlds, Dreams, Dreams of ETs, Dreams of extra-humans, Dreams of famous persons, Film, Flying dreams, Longreads, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Past-life dreams, Private Art Collection, Reincarnation, Shapeshifting in dreams, Stage performers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Mother and Child.

Mother and child

Oil on Canvas

200 x 200 cm

© 2005-2007 Luo Fahui


Gentle.  Sensual.  Masterful.


Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 21st Century Art, 21st Century Chinese Art, 21st Century Chinese artists, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Art Exhibition, Artists, Contemporary American artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Chinese art, Contemporary Chinese artists, Oil on canvas, Oil paintings, Painting | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Blue Flower Plumed Owl.

Blue Flower Plumed Owl 2008 20 x 26

Ink, Coloured Pencil

20 x 26 inches

© 2008 Kenojuak Ashevak


What I especially love about this Kenojuak is that the forward facing wings’ lines are evocative of West African masks’ aesthetics.


Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th century Canadian artists, 21st century Canadian art, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Canadian art, Contemporary Canadian Artists, Inuit art, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Shamanism | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

You are not alone.

black ET

Short and sweet, there is only one dream shared here of that day’s dreams.  At the time, it was Sunday, December 3, 1989, less than a month after Merlin’s passing.  Also at that time, the Moon transited both Aquarius and my ninth house.    

As Merlin was making the journey to becoming a fully realised astral plane habitué, for being task companions, many of my dreams were astral plane-focussed.  The dream involved interactions with extra-humans species that I had never before encountered. 

Dreams such as this one always make me grateful for being focussed here on this world.  Though it can at times be anything but civilised, it is still a remarkably beautiful world. 

The dreams that day were recorded on audio-cassette, twenty-eight and to be found in volume III of the dream opus.  As ever, sweet dreams and thank you for your ongoing support. 


In this the first dream, I was in a far-off place; it was a strange land really.  Truth be told, this dream was focussed on another world.  I went to get on a streetcar/tram because I wanted to get home.  The tram eventually went and made a loop.

The tram here was more like the ones in Europe.  This was a dark, wet, cobblestone old street.  Almost with sentient ease, the tram had the capacity to bend; it was lifelike.

There had been a jerking motion as we moved along the tracks.  Next, I noticed that the tram did a most beautiful U-turn as though it were a snake turning back on itself.

Here, on this world, it was as though the physics gave things the ability to morph.  This was most unusual.  The manoeuvre, I might add, was carried out with the greatest ease.

The tram after having turned around then went back in the opposite direction.  We then crossed a river and were on another bank of the city.  I was now in a raised area and could look back at where we had been.  I was trying to make out on what street I had come along.

I had a companion with me who was talking; I really was not much focussed on my companion’s chatter.  This was a very densely populated area.  I can’t say that it looked like a European city but it was an aged place; yet, everything here was organic.

I then came into this large building and before going up the stairs of this dark, cavernous area, there were people who had come and moved in all-around us.

There were creatures, extra-humans, which were in helmet and combat gear.  I was then going up a gangplank which was like going onto a spaceship.  As a matter of fact, it actually was just that.

Even though these were helmets, they were as one would expect not synthetic but rather organic.  The helmets were almost as though the faces of the people.

In a strange way, they were almost like the many wonderful heads in Egyptian hieroglyphs.  Their helmeted faces were like those of the falcon-headed gods et cetera; they were like a mélange of humanoids, bird and animal forms.

There was one particular creature that was the actual colour black.  The extra-human’s skin seemed like a black body stocking.  This one was a Spiderman-like creature; however, the extra-human’s skin glowed and was black.  This extra-human being was quite a force and had great presence.

He had about his torso and on his back – I never did see his face because special care was taken so that I never saw his face, a soft, blue light aura.  The aura then collapsed in and became a hard blue tendril-like wing apparatus.  In point of fact, he had floated down through the air but the tendril-like appendages were not wings.

Again, this was another display of this world’s rather evolved technologies.  The interesting feature was that he was able to mentally make the aural light collapse; indeed, it was a form of technology which was controlled by the mind.  This light source was very thin and it also undulated.

The light underwent a transformation as he was gliding down to touchdown on the floor of this cavernous building; said building was, of course, the interior of a giant spacecraft.  The collapsed aural light became almost like a backpack which no longer glowed.  Too, the apparatus seemed like a soft metallic medium with some platinum and lapis lazuli hues to it.

The equipment had all the aerodynamic sleekness of something that was a mélange of Art Deco and, perhaps, the very futuristic features of a Porsche vehicle well into the next century.  The apparatus seemed like something that the creative genius, Erté would have designed.  The whole affair was very interesting indeed.

He was coming down to take care of me.  He was a guide and a guard for me and I knew it.  He was quite a force.  All the people gathered around down at the foot of the plank.  I went up into the upper chamber of this place and there were many people about.

While onboard the giant spacecraft, I was helping to apply makeup around the eyes of a woman.  I had a strong sense that Maria di Caspieri was also about.  There were also other human-enough seeming people about; they were, however, extra-humans.  I was applying the makeup and showing them how to best do it.  I started paying more focussed attention to things as I worked.

While all of this was going on, there was an ambush going down all-around us.  There were these enemy troops who were trying to come in and overwhelm us.  They were launching an ambush; they had come inside the giant spacecraft and had managed to trip the security system and make their way in.  Shortly, were about to take us as hostages.

I was at that point quite fearful because they did have the equivalent of weaponry; however, they never did use their weapons.  As they had to be very silent, they chose not to use their weapons.

They had come through an air duct system and had literally bled their way through the wall of the force field.  Not surprisingly, they had simply rendered themselves light and thereby moved through the force field.

This they had also quite skillfully done by jimmying the security system.  However, it was only a matter of time before they would be found out.  This, though, was a trap to try and capture my guide/guard; he was part of a whole legion of other beings who had been down below and looking out for us.

More than that, it was only a matter of time before these interlopers had been outsmarted and gotten rid of.  No one was hurt because there wasn’t any shooting.  They had mentally, by way of telepathy, overwhelmed the foes and tricked them into confusion once they had broken through the force field.

Thus, the interlopers were subdued and thereby any kind of physical struggle or combat was averted.  This was all done psychically, by telepathy, and I was telepathically aware of them doing this.  Even on me, at whom it was not directed, the power of their greater psychic abilities was certainly experienced as a paralyzing force.

This was a very definite, otherworldly dimensional dream experience.  Although I did not have the companionship of my wonderful friend and lover, Merlin, I was still not uncomfortable or out of place.  I felt a strong sense of security for having had my astral guide about.


Photo credit: French screensaver of extraterrestrial.

Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Animals, Dream Shamanism, Dream travel to distant worlds, Dreams, Dreams of ETs, Dreams of extra-humans, Shapeshifting in dreams | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


Skater (1964). Skater — painting by Alex Colville. Skater 1964. Acrylic polymer emulsion on hardboard 113 x 69.8 cm.

Acrylic polymer emulsion on Hardboard

113 x 69.8 cm.

© 1964 Alex Colville.

Provenance: Museum of Modern Art, New York City.


Without a doubt, one of my favourite Alex Colvilles.


Sponsor: Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th century Canadian art, 20th century Canadian artists, Acrylic paintings, Art, Art Collection, Artists, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Canadian art, Contemporary Canadian Artists, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Art Toronto 2014

Today, I reported to one of four jobs – well, of course, I work a million jobs… you can hardly expect someone so resourceful and prodigious in the dreamtime to be an idle sort when awake – at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre and pumped fists in the air when seeing that it was one of the annual art shows that roll into the workplace.

It was beautiful and readily inspiring to make my way through the installing exhibition.  Here are a few gems that really moved me… I will return as a member of the public towards the end of the run.






Kae Sasaki, Untitled, Oil and Patina on Gold-Leafed Panel, 2014, 40- x 40-


Oil and Patina on gold-leafed panel

40 x 40 inches

© 2014 Kae Sasaki

Presented by Gurevich Fine Arts of Winnipeg – Booth 1114

Buffy Sainte-Marie, Elder Brothers, Ilfordchrome (cibachrome) photograph, 73

Elder Brothers

Ilfordchrome (cibachrome) Photograph

73.5 x 90.0 inches

© Buffy Sainte-Marie


Presented by Gurevich Fine Arts of Winnipeg – Booth 1114.



Come and Get your Love @cantstopgoodboy

Come And Get Your Love

© @Cantstopgoodboy

Presented by ProjectLA Gallery of Los Angeles  – Booth 915




Postma Fine Art of Calgary – Booth 114



rande-cook-painting-idle-no-more 8x6

Idle No More

Acrylic on Canvas on Board

6′ x 8′

© 2013 Rande Cook


Presented by Fazakas Gallery of Vancouver – Booth 1020



Martin Bourdeau

© Martin Bourdeau

Presented by Galerie Division of Toronto/Montréal – Booth 900


I found this show much better than last year’s.  You must go!


Sponsor: Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 21st Century American Art, 21st Century Art, 21st century Canadian art, Acrylic paintings, American Art, American Artists, Art, Art Collecting, Art Exhibition, Artists, Award-winning artist, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Contemporary American Art, Contemporary American artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Canadian art, Contemporary Canadian Artists, First Nations Art, Oil paintings, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The troubled vizier and essence contact with shy oldster.

egyptian palace

Two rather interesting dreams are to be found amongst these next offerings.  One dream was a past-life quest that went way back to ancient Egypt.  During the course of said dream, I would actually see the astral cord as I flew through air moving between this age and the age of the Egyptian past life. 

Furthermore, there was another dream wherein I experienced the most beautiful moment of essence contact.  This, without a doubt, was one of the most rhapsodic dreams had during the course of this lifetime. 

While the Moon transited both Gemini and my first house, I would on January 30, 1996 dream the following dreams.  They were marvellous sojourns along the ever-winding pathways of my spiritual quest this time around. 

These dreams were audio-cassette recorded on tape number two hundred and five and are to be found in volume XXI of the XXV volumes of my inordinately beautiful dreams. 

Turn off the television – it causes your pineal gland to atrophy, take a long warm bath with Epsom salt, some eucalyptus, patchouli and lots of bubbles – the bath detoxes your aura of positive ions and begins the process of opening up your chakras. 

Next, take to bed, lie there naked, wide-open, honest.  Luxuriate in the breath that you choose to continue inhaling because this is a beautiful world and you are a soul drinking of this beauteous cup called life. 

Relax… let go, grow warm, fecund and allow the river of your consciousness to become drowned in the oceanic abandon of spirit.  There, within sleep’s wet unfathomable folds, lie adventures which on awaking you could never have imagined before sleep. 

Dreams are the very essence of your being; it is how your soul seeks to fulfill itself, beyond the restricting confines of wakefulness, ego and solipsism.  Breath is movement and no more beautiful movement is there than the poetry your soul magically weave in dreams. 

One more deep breath… breathe out and let spirit push off and fly away with that breath and off you go… you are dreaming.  For your ongoing support, I have grown in spirit and for this I am both grateful and mean it when I say, I love you more! 


A past-life dream quest, proved the focus of this the first dream, which was set in Egypt.  I had a problem wife who was a dark-complected East African from the south.  I was a ‘Waat’ – vizier.  I, too, was also dark-complected and East African.

I had to flee the scene due to all the political tumult that this archly greedy wife had gotten me embroiled in.  I then had an out-of-body experience in which I flew through the city streets.

These streets were incidentally very congested and made dusty by a fine, perpetual sand.  Soon, my flight brought me to Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts; there, I had to negotiate the electrical cables by Odile Famosa’s going south at early morning time.

Tumbling on myself, I slowly turned around during flight.  I then went back to visit with the distraught Waat.  As I turned around, I saw the silver-white cord of light which trailed after me as I was astral-projected.

The wife spoke Egyptian which was very African-sounding and was.  In her bid to escape prosecution and disgrace, she harped on to excess.  Going back into the house, I was reminded in passing of the Crab Hill house.

There, I visited with the man who was unmistakably myself in a former lifetime.  Here, I felt complete compassion for what this man was being put through or, perhaps, I ought to say what he had put himself through.

Certainly, he felt betrayed by this woman who was a completely enervating, self-obsessed selfish individual.  I thought that she undoubtedly had a chief feature of greed.

She drove this man to exhaustion – physically and spiritually.  To a fault, he had loved and looked up to this woman.  In the end, this woman would prove his nemesis.  Waat, incidentally, was pronounced: Wa-ah-at.


In what proved the second dream, two young boys were presently eating, perhaps, having cereal.  They sat a kitchen table and were rather rude.

They refused to have anything to do with me and, also, didn’t offer me any.  I then decided to leave their house and ignored their eye-cutting at me.


cemetery at night

While in Basseterre, St. Kitts, while focussed in the third dream, I ran into Gabriella Vartan.  She had just received a book that I had sent her.  Gabriella told me that she had just read it.

Then, she Pandora da Braga, her fiancé – the Attorney-General of St. Kitts-Nevis, and I waited in the sunny outdoors.  Meanwhile, a fierce arctic wind blew out of the northwest raping the exposed field.

The grass here was wild and had grown considerably long.  So dry was it that it looked almost like wheat that was ready for harvest.  We had been there waiting for a bus.

Lots of livestock – sheep and goats – were perishing because of the sudden fierce cold.  Compelled, I went over and rescued a woolly sheep that looked so resigned to its cruel fate.

How could I not have felt for it?

Stroking it, I pleaded with it not to give up the ghost.  All was not lost, I assured it.  The healer in me was awakened.  Both Pandora and Gabriella held the sheep still between their legs.

They were protecting it from the fierce winds.  To further protect it, they had turned it such that its arse was facing into the wind.  The reasoning here was to prevent its sinuses from being affected by the cold winds; in that way, this would starve off a case of pneumonia.

I then told Gabriella that I was shortly going to mail her another book.  Since I didn’t have a letter that I had intended for her, on the spot, I wrote her a little witty note.  The note was very funny and on giving it to her, I assured of two things,

“One.  Ah don’ du wok no obeah.

“Two.  An ah ain’ implyin dat yu du wok obeah either.”

This was to calm her nerves as she started carping on and accused me of implying that she was into the occult.  The fact is that she was being playful; all the while, she was passionately being dead serious.

This was so refreshingly West Indian and so very real.  A good astral plane encounter with her this proved.  We then sat on a wall across from a cemetery which was bordered by a wire mesh fence.

The property was raised off the street with a wall of about four feet high.  The wire fence had started at the ground level.  Inside, I saw her Attorney-General fiancé walking from right to left.

He was a large, stout handsome man.  He wore a grey pinstripe suit.  Looking at him, it was obvious that he was aroused and his was quite the massive tool.

There was someone speaking of him as I looked on.  I do believe that it was either Vanessa Banks-Abella or Heathcliff Mars-Provencher but the person was being very excited.  The person was speaking about Gabriella Vartan’s fiancé’s legendary cock,

“Boy ah tellin yu yu hear.  De man ha one ah dem dey serious giant ah spear iron, yu know.  Lawd me punchinarnie ya t’nite.”

On hearing this, I threw my head back and vulgarly roared.  So refreshing was it to have heard talk like this – Kittisian patois.

At this point, it was fairly sunny out.  With that, we then went into the grounds of the cemetery to meet up with Gabriella’s fiancé – Gabriella, Pandora and I.

As we went, one had to go along a narrow little footpath.  All around were various-sized upright tombstones.  This was an ancient jam-packed cemetery.

This was like one of those old cemeteries in St. Kitts where persons from the era of Sir Thomas Warner’s stay, possibly earlier, were buried.  Everywhere there was space, there were large, beautiful, old soulful trees that lorded over the grounds.

What I wouldn’t give to work in a place like this, I thought in passing.

Even though it was sunny out, the trees were dank with the pungent smell of the moss – high up the sinuses – that covered their north sides.

Even the tombstones were, for the most part, time and moss-blackened.  Lots of these tombstones were made of white marble, maroon and grey-coloured granite.

This place was one of the most solid-grounding places to have experienced in the dreamtime.  As we came down, we passed one cluster of kids; they were mostly White students who were on a fieldtrip to the cemetery.

They were being accompanied by two teachers; they were conducting research into the historical figures buried there.  After having passed them and warmly interacted with the early pubescent students – they were familiar with Gabriella, we then passed a cemetery groundskeeper.

He was a dear, old-souled older man who graciously raked leaves; he was utterly lost in his slow dance with nature itself.  I was moved by his inner radiance and beauty of spirit.

Just then, I saw a man in a cloth green parka.  When he turned around, it turned out to have been that gorgeous Vietnamese man who worked at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery with me in the waking state, Harold Keel.

He was so soulful.  There and then, my suspicions that this man was an older soul were confirmed.  This man’s face was so incredibly old-souled that to have seen it caused me to light up with awe.  His visage elicited the same ecstatic response as seeing a spectacular full Moon break from behind dark clouds.

He had been living in Germany, before coming to Toronto, and really wanted to return there.  He had left because of the uncertainty that the collapse of the Berlin Wall had created.

On seeing him, I walked over and extended both my hands to him.  He instinctively knew what to do and extended his.  Palms splayed, we thusly made contact and bled each other’s energies into each other.

Quite remarkably, this was the most sublime experience.  This was merely two souls acknowledging each other’s connectivity soul-to-soul.  There were no words exchanged between us… nor were they necessary.  The energies coming from this man were intense and overwhelmingly loving.

I could have taken to flight, then and there, so filled up had I become for having drunk of his very soul.  Rapturous!

While this was taking place between us, Gabriella had reconnected with her fiancé.  They hung out together and grew more lost in their passionate love.

Turning away from my friend, who returned to raking the leaves, I looked on as Gabriella and he warmly embraced.  Walking on a bit, at the back of the cemetery, I passed through a couple of swung-open, wrought iron gates.

The open gates led to an old moss-covered rectory which long ago had lost its roof.  There, I tried to be alone with a man whom I had seen on the grounds of the cemetery.  I had wanted to be alone with him and, clearly, he me.

We were sexually drawn to each other.  However, we were soon cockblocked by others who were wandering through the sizeable grounds of the cemetery.

*One day at lunchtime while Harold and I both worked at Mount Pleasant Cemetery – Merlin was already discarnate – we retreated to one of the great beech trees on the grounds of the beautiful park.  While toned Yuppies from Forest Hills jogged way below us, Harold – who was a man of few words but the most arrestingly direct eye contact, called me to him.

There, about thirty-five feet off the ground, I curled up in his arms and wept while he caressed me.  He said nothing.  We said nothing.  Soon, we began kissing and rare though it was, though never having touched each other sexually, we both simultaneously climaxed.

The interesting part about the interlude was that it was not sexually focussed.  The moment had been so intimate between us that as our sensual dance flowered, our sexual release was a manifestation of that intimacy; however, it was not the focus of our intimacy.  We were not embarrassed by it; as a matter of fact, it was not awkward between us when it happened.

We continued being intimate, caressing and kissing.  We were two souls looking into each other, warmly saying hello and acknowledging our bonds across multiple lifetimes.  For those brief moments, I no longer felt utter despair at being alone in the world without the physical intimacy that Merlin and I had shared.  END.


Photo credits:  Dynastic Egyptian palace interior.

Stock photo of an old cemetery at night.

Sponsor: Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Animals, Chakras, Dream sex, Dream Shamanism, Dreams, Dreams shamanism, Flying dreams, Longreads, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, OBEs, OBEs in dreams, Out-of-Body Experiences, Past-life dreams, Reincarnation, Shamanism | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lavender Fields.

Lavender Fields 16x16 Acrylic on Panel 2014 Cody Hooper

Acrylic on Panel

16 x 16 inches

© 2014 Coody Hooper



I’m so humbled to be inspired by such breathtaking beauty and creative genius…


Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 21st Century American Art, Acrylic paintings, American Abstract Art, American Abstract artists, American Art, American Artists, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Contemporary American Art, Contemporary American artists, Contemporary art, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Extra-humans with mythic counterparts.


While the Moon transited both Capricorn and my eighth house, I would have two sleep cycles that day.  Of the first sleep cycle’s five dreams, only the fifth I have chosen to share herein. 

Both sleep cycles featured dream encounters with extra-humans.  The extra-human encountered during the second sleep cycle was truly magnetic.  Over the years, I have dreamt of this particular extra-human. 

Late last week, I got invited to a dinner party where the dream blog entry entitled, “The other Johnson wax,” was the source of much discussion and raucous laughter. 

Kyle Fleming whom I had not seen in long ages invited me to his Queen Street West neighbourhood loft where there were several friends of his, all West Indians, whom I hardly knew.  Kyle a retired dancer and his very successful chartered accountant lover threw a beautiful evening. 

However, we all came undone when the very funny Kyle – mature sage – got his iPad mini and proceeded to dramatically regale us with a reading of aforementioned dream.  Truly, it was great fun seeing the pleasure that a rather unusual dream sojourn had stirred in others. 

Though the plan was to have gone to see a film, we ended up staying in being further regaled by Kyle’s dramatic reading of other dreams on this blog.  I trust that these dreams will continue to enrich, enlighten, inspire and spur you on, dear reader, to your own flights of spirit while focussed in the dreamtime. 

These dreams were dreamt on that rarest of days, Saturday, February 29, 1992 – a leap year it indeed was.  For the record, they were recorded on audio cassette ninety-eight, volume X of the as-yet published 25 volume dream opus. 

Love.  Light.  Laughter.  Raise hell unflinchingly and swiftly whenever necessary.  Love & dream with equal parts passion and ferocity because we are beautiful you and me… I love you more! 


I then went and looked beyond the window into the gut, in this the fifth dream, beyond our house in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  While looking out, I thought of what Oleg de Brontë spoke: Artemis de Bolanos’ allegations that I had been promiscuous since the age of fourteen.

There in the gut, I had seen persons down in the bushes of the gut having sex.  I had gone to close the window after Harella da Braga and others had left.  They had gotten all dressed up and were picked up by a party in a couple of cars; Participants included, Harella, Isha and Penina.

I had stopped to look at them get dressed, at one point, when thinking of what Oleg had said.  Predictably, this had taken place while he and I were visiting.  Seemingly, someone had died and to attend the funeral, they had gotten up in their best black finery.  The funeral service was going to be held at the church in The Alley, Sandy Point, St. Kitts that Harella had built.

On peering out, I noticed that the McHughs across the street were also intently looking on.  The cars, both of them, were quite tightly packed.  After having initially stayed behind, Penina would later join me.

However, while alone in the house, I went to the living room to lock the window to the veranda which looked across the street to the McHughs.  I was so glad to have locked it because I had just managed to lock out Gaëtan Hamelin who came bounding up onto the veranda.

I have never liked this man nor, for that matter, trusted him.  Along with his companion, whom I did not recognise, he had wanted to come inside and join me.  They both had this geechy grin on their faces which precisely is how Gaëtan behaves.

*Frankly, he is both risible and stupid and does seem like a fairly young soul to me.  END.

There were two people there with me but there was something odd about them.  They were as if extra-humans and this in fact is why Gaëtan and his friend had been so eager to come inside.

As though they were some exhibit at a Natural Museum, they wanted to come in and gawk at them.  This I had no intentions of doing because I didn’t think it very polite to be gawking at anyone.  Somehow, Gaëtan had been able to put his hand through the pane of the closed window and undo the latch.

At that, he came into the living room through the window.  I was there with the two strange men and, soon enough, a fight broke out.  I had grabbed a gun and shot Gaëtan in the chest.  I did so, to be precise, just below the throat chakra and just above the solar plexus.

He had been wearing a thick blue shirt under a very dark jacket.  The two men already in the house were White but there was something very unusually otherworldly about them.  They may even have had four arms; they were most unusual.

Though I didn’t want them being treated like freaks of nature, it seemed unreasonable of me to have expected mere mortals to not have been garishly curious.  Inevitably, a fight broke out while I was up on the veranda.

Penina was there and I had been experiencing a lot of bleeding for having been punched in the mouth during the mêlée with Gaëtan.

At one point, I had even gone to the edge of the veranda so that I could spit yet another mouthful of blood into the beautiful front garden.  On seeing the blood, Penina advised me to be very careful and to take care.

To transcend the funk of the moment – my bloody mouth and the fight that had gone down, I began doing a dance.  After having held it en avant en attitude, I rose my leg up in attitude en arrière.  My turnout was rather exquisite, at all times, especially on the supporting leg.

I was holding my poses quite long and did a lot of deep yogic breathing while perpetually moving during the poses.  They were never static poses; there were no moments of pause or stillness throughout.

This was a performance that I undertook for the guys who were clearly extra-human.  Penina, again, told me to be very careful; this time her admonition was with regards to the EHs.  Somehow, it seems as though I could possibly have gotten into trouble with them for having danced.

Hopefully, these were not a race of baby-souled killjoys.



Harella and I were together, in this the first dream, and ventured into this church.  This church proved a large ancient cathedral where an elaborate service was underway.

The ceremony was either a funeral or memorial service.  There was a wide aisle along which I was seated in the front pew with Harella.  Across the way were another set of pews.

The interesting thing here was that, on entering the church, the pews faced each other across the central aisle much as at Westminster Abbey.  One had to make one’s way all the way down the entire aisle that was beautifully carpeted in a long, single red rug.

This was such a large beautiful cathedral.  Truth be told, it was an even more gothic and ancient Cathédrale than Notre Dame in Paris.  This structure was incredible.  In the church, there was a horde of famous persons; they were celebrities all.  There was Michael Douglas, Don Johnson and Warren Beatty; they were all actors.

Then a third-tier Hollywood actor came in; it was either Mickey Rourke or Bruce Willis but whoever it was, Michael Douglas had been keen to snub him.  Michael Douglas was on my side of the aisle and behind us, a bit to the right and closer to the door.

Michael Douglas wore a grey suit.  They stood up whenever persons entered the cathedral.  Lastly, these two guys came in because they wanted to make an entrance such that people could be impressed by them.

Except that it was so typical of the parvenu that there was hushed laughter, as they were being dismissively ridiculed, by the older and generational Hollywood players in attendance.

Warren Beatty was humoured by their posturing and looked down at his hands; his face furrowed in a dimpled crease as he thusly snubbed them.  Michael Douglas’ grey pinstriped suit was rather beautiful.  His suit was almost grey-silver.

Harella was seated behind me.  Along the aisle came a whole bunch of Black women who had arrived considerably late.  One of them was very skinny and not unlike Iman, the famous model, but I was not certain that it was her.  She was absolutely exquisitely beautiful.

Bedazzled, I thought to get up and saunter down the aisle turning it into a catwalk while throwing my hips like Yasmeen Ghauri.  However, Harella telepathically picked up on my reverie and firmly, coolly advised me not to go making an arse of her.

At one point, when I was with her, I had laid back into Harella.  This was some sort of ceremony after which we were going to see a film.  In that sense, it seemed not unlike the Academy Awards.

More to the point, it seemed a retrospective of some great actor’s career.  There was a lull in the proceedings because the lights had gone down to begin showing the filmed section of the tribute.  This served as my cue at which point I went outside.

Making my way, I went up this wide street that was covered in loose dirt or sand.  There, I met Martin Procunier who immediately began whining about me still owing him money.  On realising what a somnambulant arse he was, for wanting money in the dreamtime, I gladly gave him the money.

*Magically, on reaching into my pocket, I had willed a wad of notes into my hand then produced them for him.  Of course, not only impressed was he but he had been besotted and pacified – he, of course, of the Berkshire-Hathaway stocks and passing his life cheap-no-arse as though life were a dress rehearsal and for what?

I dismissively thought,

“Who the fuck but Martin, is going to be carping about money in the dreamtime?”

I then enthusiastically told him about the proceedings at the cathedral.  Martin, however, could not have cared less.  Clearly, the man just wanted his money back.  I then headed back for the cathedral which was quite a colossus and set way back from the road.

Incredibly, it was old and tall; as a matter of fact, the cathedral was several stories high.  Quite simply, it was truly majestic.

When I was going back into the cathédrale, I passed this bazaar and went in to browse.  There, I got this whole bunch of herbs which were still fresh and aromatically pleasant.  Some of these long herbs were even red.

Realizing that it would be inappropriate to take them back into the cathedral, I went down a hallway from the main vestibule.  There, I found a whole bunch of lockers.  Too, I saw a whole bunch of Black and White kids; there were four or five of them.  One of them was on a tricycle being pushed by an older sibling.

They were holding up my progress; I impatiently snapped at them to get out of the way.  Hurriedly, I got past them and went to put away the herbs into an empty locker.  Then when I made my way back into the cathedral proper, I went to sit next to Harella and lounged onto her.

At this point, the ceremony was near completion.  One of things that I had bought was a book which I had stored in the locker with the herbs.  I really resonated with it when I saw the book cover and impulsively chose to purchase it.  The book cover depicted these large blue planets and seemed to be in the Sci-Fi genre.

The planets emitted this softly intense blue light and seemed as if alive.  The main reason for getting it, however, was for the face of the man on the cover.  He was someone whom I had seen before.

*On July 29, 1988, I had an out-of-body experience.  At the end of the process, I had collapsed crashing back into my body and made a very loud snorting noise.  The sound of my gulping breath had actually awakened Merlin from sleep; he was, to say the least, quite concerned.

The experience was quite incredible because I was as if in a trance-like state and not yet dreaming.  I was fully aware of everything that was spatially going out about me our Cabbagetown bedroom in real/waking time.

What was really interesting about this book is that the man on the cover was the man whom I had encountered in the aforementioned OBE.  So while there in the cathedral, the same man who was on the cover of the book which I had just bought came into the cathedral and joined us.

He sat on my immediate right.  He had a body that was made of blue light; quite remarkably, he emitted blue light.  His head was quite disproportionately larger than the rest of his James Tramblesque statuesque body.

He was power incarnate.  He wore a headdress that was Egyptian which made his head look even more so like that of Pharaoh Akhenaten’s.  He was quite incredible.  There was no way to get around it but in the true sense of the word and otherwise, this man was a being of light.  He was soulful beyond belief.

As we were watching the scene, I again saw the two planets that were on the cover of the book which I had moments earlier bought and placed in the locker out in the hallway of the cathedral.

He didn’t want them to do what they were next going to do.  In any event, the planet that was smaller and in the upper left and in the distance of the other planet, which was blue, began aligning with the blue planet.

With regards this blue planet, I had seen it in my OBE on July 29, 1988.  Said planet was an energetic force to which I hurtled through a space of blue-white light at great speeds.  This seemed some sort of film on the order of the Star Wars trilogy but wasn’t any of them.

Nor for that matter was it an action film.  Next, music began playing and the man of light next to me really didn’t want this going down.  Nonetheless, the alignment continued.  The music was very powerful, symphonic and like nothing ever heard on this side of the dreamtime – the waking state.

Though it was somewhat symphonic, it was not truly symphonic.  Great pomp and circumstance associated with the opening movement of the piece.  In that sense, it was very Wagnerian in grandeur and power.  The planet in the rear, which was blue but with glimmers of yellow-red in it, novaed.

Somehow, it seemed that the playing of the music and the people gathered therein had caused the planet to nova.  The man of light did not want this to happen.  At that, he crouched over and turned away to his right racked with pained.  While he cowered away from the horrid spectre, the exploded planet’s asteroids came forward in an explosive fiery wave.

Obviously, this explosive wave would affect the blue planet in the foreground.  The being of light simply did not want this to happen to the blue planet.  He didn’t want the planet, to which he was clearly very much so connected, becoming affected by this fallout.

This was too much for the being of light to take.  With that, the dream suddenly began shifting and dissolved around us all.  Hurriedly, though not technically taking flight, I got to my feet and began flying from the cathedral.  There was a large bus there which we were supposed to have taken in order to clear out of the place.

This bus was so long, large and streamlined that it seemed as though built to travel through time dimensions or between galaxies.  Clearly, it was an EHV (extra-human vehicle or UFO) of some sort; however, while sitting there it did rather look like a bus.

Getting aboard, I was sitting close to the rear of the bus which had three sets of doors along its body.  I had entered at the front doors.

Soon, I began rummaging through things looking for my much coveted book but couldn’t find it.  So I went up to the front of the bus where, interestingly enough, there were shelves outside.  You could move outside and around the bus yet still be onboard; it was unusual and hard to explain linearly the goings on while aboard the streamlined vehicle.

Jody Watley – Black pop singer, turned out to have been the bus driver.  She sat there waiting for the bus to get fully loaded.  She was able to see and talk through the pane of the windshield.  Strangely enough, the windshield was down; however, when she had started driving, it had slid up shut like the windows on the doors of most cars.

Not only that, the vehicle was hovering just inches off the ground while stationary.  Too, there were no signs that an engine was running.  I knew that this vehicle was capable of travelling at great speeds.  The streamlined vehicle seemed to have been made of some alloy or other: ceramics, stone, steel; it was a hard, sturdy alloy.

Most of the people on board were Black.  They were quite amused at the sight of me as I tried to find the book.  At one point, I even went back into this little room to try and find it.  My search did procure a magazine which was in the comic format but the contents were not at all comics.

One of the magazines came closest to being like the comics and had a picture on the back of it.  They were clear pictures but blue and they depicted the anatomy with blue and red lines for the differing arteries.  Still, they were not what I was looking for, although, I did settle on the magazine.

Jody Watley, or the woman with an uncanny resemblance to her, was saying,

“But I don’t think that it’s lost.  It’s yours and it’s always going to be yours.  Maybe you’re looking for it in the wrong place.”

Resigned to the fact that it was lost to me, I then returned to the streamlined bus.  At that, just as I had anticipated, the bus started moving at great speeds.  When you looked outside, at this point, it had grown dark because the already visorred windows had grown even darker.

This naturally gave a blackened hue to the vista outside; however, because of the vehicles immense speeds, the exterior morphed to grey, then blue and finally onto becoming a white streak.

This vehicle was traveling at phenomenal speeds.  Naturally, at such phenomenal speeds, I whited out and found myself lucidly come to in the pyramid where I slept at my tiny Queen Street West apartment.


Photo credits: Lakshmi goddess of wealth and prosperity.

Bust of Queen Nefertiti.

Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.


© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

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