Diana’s resolve… Extra-human Tall Whites arrive.

Diana-Princess-of-Wales-Nelson Shanks 1994 oil on canvas

One of the last dreams I would have, before moving to Montréal from Vancouver, would be a most ominous dream of Diana, Princess of Wales.  At the time, my life was in flux as I hurriedly packed up my art collection and made preparations to fly out of Vancouver to Montréal. 

As Pandora da Braga had lived in Paris for ten years, after having worked in the Prime Minister’s Office – Prime Minister, John Turner – studying then working as a journalist in the city of lights, I would make wonderful friends of my own in Paris. 

Naturally, they all implored me to move to Montréal because they could then visit me and not have to worry about not speaking English.  Of course, if you can’t live in Paris, Montréal will make a damn good substitute – the locals’ hideous xenophobia notwithstanding. 

To say the least, I was only too happy to take flight from Vancouver which had proven a racially suffocating hellhole once too many for my legendary impatience… to say nothing of pride and integrity.  Since I am not in the world to suffer the racial predator overlong, it was time to move on when I chose to.  Knowing when to take leave is key to survival in any situation. 

The astral plane dream encounter with Diana, Princess of Wales was inordinately lucid and possessed of a clarity that spoke to its prophetic potency.  Of course, on awaking from the dream, I had completely misread the message of the dynamic being played out.  At the time of the dream and on awaking, I had assumed the subject of ominous prophecy to be Prince William rather than Diana, Princess of Wales herself. 

The dream proved rather sobering.  The evening when the news broke of Diana, Princess of Wales’s death, I stood in my Montréal living room and screamed horrified because in that moment I had finally gotten whom the subject the prophetic dream was; it was Diana, Princess of Wales. 

There was the same density and foreboding in this dream as in all dreams which presage death.  There was no mistaking the ambiance of the dream; death palpably hung in the air. 

At the time, it was Sunday, July 27, 1997 and while the Moon then transited both Taurus and my twelfth house, I did nothing more than pack and run off to Stanley Park after dark to get one more last session of hot sex in the midst of five-hundred-year-old moss-furred Sitkas. 

Oh what delicious fun times!  Nothing beats having sex in the middle of nature; it is so primal, so spiritual, so shamanic and elemental. 

The dream was a beautiful farewell from Diana, Princess of Wales.  I am sure that she would be immensely proud of how Prince William has fared since she bade him fare well in that dream. 

Sweet dreams as ever. 

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Pandora da Braga and I visited with Diana, Princess of Wales, at nighttime, in this the first dream.  I spoke to her of her great insights to world politics.

As well, I told her of how much she had learnt in this lifetime – the great insights garnered from her experiential awareness of human suffering and the human condition.

This woman was incredibly powerful in this astral plane encounter.

You had a sense of her very soul itself being present in her body.  As this was an astral plane encounter, one was not experiencing Diana, Princess of Wales the glamour puss, the manipulative or, for that matter, the fucked-up basket case.

You saw the power behind the incarnate persona and understood why she was born to be Diana, Princess of Wales.  All that emotional baggage ultimately was mere façade.  This was a very steely tough customer.

Her eyes were always very direct and clear; they were not soft and dewy or doing the virgin bride Diana Spencer routine.  She wore a powder blue suit and was in supreme control.

She then went to a near dark bedroom to check on Prince William, the future Duke of Cambridge.  The heir apparent was lying in bed, foetally curled up while soundly asleep.

He looked so tiny and so frail and vulnerable that one had to wonder if he were an asthmatic or suffered from seizures.  Even though asleep, Prince William seemed emotionally needy.

I was much reminded of Clarice Seberg-da Braga in this woman’s resolute steeliness.  I stood a few feet away while Diana, Princess of Wales stood leaning over the side of the bed next to her sleeping firstborn, Prince William.

The energies here were those of a retirement home or an orphanage.  The vibration here was both dense and very sad; it was a most sombre ambiance here.  I even passingly wondered if Prince William were in danger of dying.

When I spoke to her, she had said nothing and seemed remote, removed and otherly focussed.  However, she was undividedly listening to me.  Her focus was intense, with a singleness of purpose that was so unlike her incarnate persona, it was hard to believe that she could have become so legendarily emotionally fucked-up.

For being in this woman’s presence, one realised that this individual has seen a lot.  By far, much more than mere mortals see in the course of three or four lifetimes has she.

Her energies surprised me as they were massive.  One had to exactly wonder who she has been in past lives.  I had a sense of her that she was an early mature soul.

Prince William Wedding

*This would indeed prove a rather prophetic dream.  I remember been so upset at this dream that on awaking, I went and looked up Prince William, Duke of Cambridge’s astrological chart to see if there were any indicators that he could possibly die early in life or imminently.

So ravishing was Diana, Princess of Wales that it never occurred to me at the time of the dream or on awaking, to have looked at her chart to see if there were any signs of her possibly dying imminently.  Of course, there in her chart was a very ominously looming Pluto square transit which went exact the day she died.

I might also add that it is an afflicted Pluto which is conjunct her natal Mars.  Think what you want but there is no way that Diana, Princess of Wales was not assassinated.

She was, in the dream, clearly resigned to her fate.  She was obviously aware of her role in the historical drama being played out and she, finally, fulfilled her role with great aplomb.

Especially after having had that dream, I have been so proud of just how admirably Prince William, Duke of Cambridge has turned out.  More than that, I glow thorough every time I see a photograph of his lovely wife, Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge.

Of course, I cried and flew-without-moving while looking at their wedding which I have watched at least once each month since – because I am a hopeless romantic and why not?

william and catherine

**I might also add that Sarah J. Chambers shared with me Diana, Princess of Wales’ Michael Overleaves after her passing.  They are a limited window onto her overleaves.  Too, I will add those of Charles Windsor, Prince of Wales’s along with Robert Bateman’s as he is made mention of.

Clarice Seberg-da Braga’s Michael Overleaves can now be found in the Michael Overleaves Appendix.

Diana Frances Spencer Windsor.  July 1/1961-August 31/1997.

The fragment who was Windsor, Diana is a second level mature artisan, and was in the passion mode with a goal of acceptance, a pragmatist in the moving part of emotional center. 

She had a lunar/Mercury body type and a chief feature of stubbornness with a secondary, not of self-destruction, but of self-deprecation. 

Windsor, Diana was first cast in her cadence and her cadence is number five in the greater cadence.  She is a member of entity number one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod 380. 

This fragment’s essence twin is a discarnate artisan and her task companion is a discarnate sage, both of whom are staying near her, waiting for her to become oriented to her situation. 

Here we had an artisan with drama in her casting, but also with a very deep need to serve both the common and the higher good, which she did with grace, charm and a good deal of conviction.

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Charles Windsor, Prince of Wales Nov 14/48 London, England.

Windsor, Charles is a seventh level mature artisan-cast warrior.  Observation, acceptance, pragmatist, moving part of intellectual center, Mercury-Saturn body type.  Chief and second features are Stubbornness and self-deprecation. 

He has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion who exerts considerable influence. 

His casting is virtually the same as Bateman, Robert‘s:  entity number two, cadre 4, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404, but he is a 2-4-4.  

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Bateman, Robert May 24/1930, Toronto, Canada

This is a seventh level mature king in the observation mode, with a goal of growth, an idealist in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Robert has a Mercury/Saturn body type. 

Robert’s primary chief feature is stubbornness, with a secondary of self-deprecation. 

This fragment was second-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fourth in the greater cadence.  He is a member of entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404. 

He has a discarnate king essence twin, who does exert considerable influence on him.  He and the warrior fragment Bristol Foster are indeed task companions. 

Robert’s three primary needs are: freedom, adventure and expression. 

So here is an artisan-cast king, whose scholarly position in the greater cadence affects his interpersonal relationships only in the sense that he will expect that they be intellectually rewarding.  He relates to the world at large in a very creative way but with a need to focus on the task at hand. 

He and his essence twin have always influenced each other to an extraordinarily high degree and in this life that is certainly the case.  In the immediate past life, this fragment – the essence twin – was the naturalist and intrepid voyager, John Muir. 

John Muir, also a seventh level mature king at that time, was also, as you have put it, “very gentle-souled,” except where the rape of the environment was concerned. 

The fragment Robert Bateman is an entity mate of the fragment who is Charles Windsor, the Prince of Wales. 

He and the fragment who is now Olaf Gamst and also the fragment who is Bristol Foster have worked together on two previous occasions. 

Of course, Robert Bateman and Bristol Foster have been together during many previous lifetimes but those are the only two where both have been present to Olaf Gamst. 

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Then, in this the second dream, I entered a film which advanced back in time.  I was taken back to the beginning of my reincarnational cycle here on Earth.  That is to say that for my soul’s experience here on Earth, it was the beginning of time.

There were lots of heavy-looking satellites here.  As a result, the celestial lights are strange as compared to contemporary times.  There was a sense of purple intensely coming through from the light spectrum.

Too, blue came through strongly here rather than the intense ‘white’ with which we are so accustomed.  A very interesting phenomenon this was.

This was a very rocky terrain as I stood looking down to a spectacular vista below.  Next, there was a mass influx of people who came from another planet.

There had been a mass exodus to Earth.  The arrivée extra-human’s spaceships were not all that sophisticated comparable to today’s space shuttles.  When they disembarked, they were an unusually tall race of Whites.

They averaged over seven feet each, on the short side, pushing nine feet; even the women were in excess of seven feet tall.  They were a shabbily dressed group.  Too, they looked truly shell-shocked; it was as though they had had to take flight in a hurry.

Seemingly, there had been a massive apocalyptic crisis which had precipitated their sudden departure.  As a result, they had ventured here to take up residence on Earth.  They seemed as if refugees from a war zone.

They were, the whole group of them,  quite a mess.  Immediately, they set about on a campaign to subjugate the planet and make it theirs.  Theirs was a focus that was driven of their having been from elsewhere.

This was hostile territory that had to be tamed and made to order; the new planet, Earth, had to support their agenda and nothing more.  This was the beginning of a reign of terror which clearly endures to this age.

They had a series of rulers, who came with the mass exodus, all of whom were male.  They were a militaristic culture.  They were the quintessential warrior warlords; brutish and sadistic to the core were they.  They had no qualms about killing.

They couldn’t have cared less, after all, about the people whom they were killing; after all, they were all merely humans and not of their extra-human race.

They were brutish specimens, the hunter-warrior extra-humans, with thick full beards.  These were a people who had known nothing but a long history of warfare.  They were bred to be killers.  Truth be told, they were deadly and at war with life itself.

Alas, it was a sad but true fact and one that was rather insightful as to the real deal behind history of this planet.  As life on Earth ultimately proved a non-viable long range proposition, they elected to adapt to Earth by breeding with select humans.

The group which proved, in the long term to be most viable for their genetic stock to endure and prosper would become today’s Caucasians.  As a result, the hybridised Earthly humans became as if at war with themselves.  Incidentally, all the racial groups were hybridised; however, what would become Caucasians were deemed most desirable.

I have always thought it very interesting that the all-dominant White tribe is home to Europe, the only continent on the planet where the inhabitants never constructed pyramids.  They, pyramids, are in Africa, the Americas and Asia but not to be found in Europe.

These people were truly Hitlerian in their savagery.  I could see how easy it was for the true Earthlings to have been subjected by these people.

The locals were a peaceful people who lived close to and in accord with nature – that included the pre-hybridised Caucasians.  Then along came this exodus of Tall White extra-humans who proceeded to subject both them and nature.

This seemed to have, perhaps, been in New Zealand but it was obvious from what I learnt here that the invading Whites had touched down in several locales on the planet.

Theirs was an agendum whose task demanded timely action over a given breath of time.  They were intent on suppressing the Earthlings, all over the planet.  When their extra-human stock began dying out, they then elected to hybridise the native humans of Earth.

Obviously, at the end of this campaign, they would then choose to settle in Europe.  What was really telling in all of this was the fact that all of life in the Universe is cyclical.

To that end, we see history being repeated in modern times with the campaign begun by Christopher Columbus.  There is nothing ennobling or uplifting about this European exodus which, as per the panorama I witnessed, mirrored the campaign of the Tall White extra-humans on their arrival to Earth.  Though less savage, the strong Tall White extra-human genetic markers in Caucasians has affected their outlook on being focussed here on Earth.

As a result, the hybridised Caucasians humans’ raison d’être has been about warfare, rape and separatism.  Notice, too, that until the rise of Judaism, there were no patriarchal religions on this planet.  Religions weren’t of any use, prior to the arrival of the Tall White extra-humans, as all the people of Earth were living in accord with nature.

Too, the rise of Judaism marked the ascent of the notion of a single god and, most of all, one which was vengeful, warring and decidedly patriarchal.  Like the orthodoxy of Judaism, it was anathema to the arriving extra-human Tall Whites to mix or cohabit with the true Earthlings – at least until their long term survival proved impossible.

That aside, the extra-human Tall Whites went about suppressing the planet.  They did so in a reign of terror that was truly horrific.  They murdered and savaged the Earthlings with ferocity that one would a species which was not one’s own.

The Earthlings were being killed as though they were an infestation of vermin who had to be culled and controlled.  This they did in their campaign to make the planet viable for their extra-human Tall White stock.

So very telling as this is precisely the repeated/mirrored history which we are living today.  A history, indeed, in which the White Tribe has spread over the planet in the last half millennium, displacing the local Earthlings in their path.  Sadly, so dominant is the Tall White extra-human genetic makeup in hybridised Caucasians, it has been as though their fellow humans were not also human.

This has being most actively pursued in Africa at present which thanks to racism makes it permissible.  Truly horrific a spectacle this proved.  Devastating were the campaign’s results, to say the least, on the locals then as now.

*I must note here, though, that the original Tall Whites were little related to today’s Whites.  Not only were they close to nine feet tall, if not more, they were pasty to grey-white in colour.

In the true sense of the word, they were Tall Whites rather than Caucasians.  END.

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When planning to go to a movie, in this the second dream, I had asked Ian Banks Jr. if he would accompany me.  Flatly, he replied no.

The look on his face was truly hostile as if to ask if I were out of my mind to have asked him.  I was very stunned, in fact, by his reaction.

In any event, I readily recovered and went off looking for a seat in the theatre.  I ended up close to a White couple with three small kids.

The children were talkative but there was nothing objectionable in their behaviour.  I actually quite liked being near them with their refreshing playfulness and spontaneity.

As the house lights went down and everyone grew quietly anticipatory, I seamlessly refocussed from the dreamtime to the waking state.

*On awaking, I felt exhausted from the travel involved in moving back in time to seeing and experiencing the arrival of the Tall White extra-humans.  I took the time to remain in the pyramid, after having recorded the dreams, to meditate with crystals and thereby restore my energies.  END.

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Photo/Art credits: HRH, Diana, Princess of Wales by Nelson Shanks 1994, Oil on Canvas 64 x 40 inches.  Provenance, Collection of Charles, Ninth Earl of Spencer.

HRH, Prince William, Duke of Cambridge stock photo April 29, 2011.

Duke and Duchess of Cambridge stock photo, November 2014.

http://www.spencerofalthorp.com/

http://www.nelsonshanks.com/

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th Century American art, 20th century American artists, 20th Century Art, American Art, American Artists, American Realism, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Contemporary American Art, Contemporary art, Crystals, Dreams, Dreams of ETs, Dreams of extra-humans, Dreams of famous persons, Longreads, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Oil on canvas, Oil paintings, Painting, Portraiture, Private Art Collection, Pyramid | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

War Party Rides – Lakota.

333N-WAR-PARTY-RIDES-LAKOTA-OIL-ON-CANVAS-2004-40X40-15000.00-2-12-04-LGAZ

Oil on Canvas

40 x 40 inches

© 2004 John Ayers.

The lighting is so readily evocative of some sweeping past-life dreamscape.  Love it!

http://jamesayers.com/

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© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

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

Merlin.

Merlin

Merlin.

July 21, 1947 <O> November 18, 1989

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I could never have imagined surviving Merlin by 25 years.  More than that, I could never have fathomed how immensely enriched I would grow for having known and loved Merlin.  Certainly, I would never have imagined that our relationship would continue, merely otherly focussed, beyond his passing.  However, as many dreams herein have attested that we most definitely did and have.

I offer the links to three dreams had after Merlin’s passing – all of which are to be found in the ‘Dreams of Merlin’ category.  The first dream occurred as Merlin passed, the other two dreams three and four years after his passing.  Do enjoy and I trust that for your own loved ones, these dreams will inspire you to remain open and focussed on being attuned and ever in love with loved ones when they transition to merely being at a different vibration as astral plane habitués.

Incidentally, Merlin was reincarnated on December 2, 2006 as a first level old scholar in an old soul northern European country’s capital city.  Merlin’s soul has chosen in this lifetime to be female and yes, I have dreamt of this beautiful-eyed young woman.  Love ever endures.

These dreams, without a doubt, attest to Merlin and I having shared a most remarkable love affair.  All is choice.  Sweet dreams and love you and your loved ones even more!

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http://dreampoetica.com/2013/03/30/see-you-soon-merlins-magical-transition/

http://dreampoetica.com/2013/02/24/anointed-by-the-exalted-mentor-merlin/

http://dreampoetica.com/2013/03/21/wont-take-the-a-train/

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Photo credit: Merlin 1977 in Montréal.

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Actors, Archetypes in dreams, Astral plane habitué, Canadian artists, Chakras, Crystals, Dream Shamanism, Dreams, Dreams of famous persons, Dreams of Merlin, Dreams of Task Companion, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Music, Reincarnation, Shamanism, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Serenity.

Serenity 48x48 2014 Acrylic on Panel Russell Collection

Acrylic on Panel

48 x 48 inches

Provenance:  Russell Collection, Austin, Texas.  (Commission)

© 2014 Cody Hooper.

Sublime.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cody-Hooper-American-Abstract-Artist/155759097853149?pnref=lhc

http://www.codyhooperart.com/

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© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

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

Ocean Moon.

Ocean Moon 48x70 Acrylic on Panel 2014 CH

Acrylic on Panel

48 x 70 inches

© 2014 Cody Hooper

Masterful!

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cody-Hooper-American-Abstract-Artist/155759097853149?pnref=lhc

http://www.codyhooperart.com/

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© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 21st Century American Art, 21st Century American Artists, 21st Century Art, Acrylic paintings, American Abstract Art, American Abstract artists, American Art, American Artists, American SoutWest Artists, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Art Exhibition, Artists, Contemporary American Art, Contemporary art, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Sentient Indian pachyderms and corrupt master’s resolve.

Elephant Festival, Japiur, Rajasthan

These next dreams were recorded on audiocassette two hundred and nine and are to be found in volume XXI of the twenty-five volume dream opus.  At the time, it was Wednesday, April 10, 1996.  Of course, I was then resident in Vancouver’s West End. 

While I then welcome sleep’s sweet release as I would be spirited into the world of dreams, the Moon transited both Capricorn and my eighth house. 

As you shall yet see, as the eighth house is the house governed by pluto, the dreams thematically dealt with death and the past.  There seemed, somehow, to have been some past-life resonance being triggered by these dreams.  As to exactly what those resonances reincarnationally refer to, I haven’t a clue. 

Sweet dreams then and remember fear is just needless drama getting in the way of knowing self.  Take a deep breath and surrender into the moist warm folds of consciousness; therein you wil discover your birthright in the sweetest of dreams. 

Sweet and lucid dreams, I love  you more. 

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In this the first dream, I saw two elephants walking through a lush growth.  From the smells of the environment, I thought that it was more than likely in India rather than Africa.

While I looked at the elephant caravan from behind, a group of herdsmen were walking the pachyderms.  The most interesting feature about them was that all over the elephants’ bodies was a cabling of knitted bamboo or rattan shoots.

They were placed all over the bodies of the pachyderms with rungs a foot apart that were used for clambering up and down them.  As I noticed from my perspective, the cabling of ladders also came down on either side of the tail.

The knotted fibres came down to cover both back legs but didn’t disturb the adorable creatures as they ambled on.  In point of fact, they were tied about the pachyderms’ stubby ankles and thus kept in place.

These adorable gentle-souled creatures seemed not so much on the verge of sentience but, rather, were themselves sentient.  The system of multiple rungs was being used by the slight-bodied, dark-skinned East Indians to purchase onto the elephants as they languorously journeyed on.

The creatures were, in fact, a form of mass transit that the locals had been using for countless millennia.  I thought it so ingenious of them.  In this way, they didn’t have to seek purchase by way of the large ears to climb up.

Here, every available square inch of the giant creatures was a viable spot for getting to town.  In this way, the pachyderms resembled the speedy trains that snake through India teeming with humanity magnetised to every square inch of their exteriors.

These people were a warm generous-spirited people who quite so lovingly cared for their creatures.  Though it took me awhile to realise, indeed, the pachyderm’s sentience was validated by the fact that they sang and grunted in their own dialogue amongst themselves.

They were inordinately intelligent.  As if they were manifested gods and goddesses from the Hindu pantheon, about their large eyes were kohl and various dyes.  These creatures were truly rare.

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Here, in this the second dream, I was witness to an execution.  I was following closely behind as a man, who much reminded me of Joseph Stalin - albeit rather ancient, was being led to a gas chamber.

He had been tried as a war criminal and condemned to death to repay the insult to humanity that his deeds had wreaked among us.  I was not quite certain if, indeed, he was Joseph Stalin.

If at all not him, this man would then have been rather highly ranked within Joseph Stalin’s or even Adolf Hitler’s regimes.  He was an intense robust man whose air was arrogantly cavalier.

Not in the least did it matter to him that he was shunned by humanity.  He had had a task to accomplish and had done his deed.  In this way, he knew too that since this was after the fact, it therefore mattered not.

As he was being led away by a silver-haired man, about ten years his junior, I was again reminded of Joseph Stalin on seeing his thick dark moustache.  He was so dignified and he was not putting on airs either.

As this man was being escorted down an interminably long hallway, I felt compelled to go along.  Eventually, at one of several breaks in the wall, they turned right.  Going on for some distances, they then turned right again.

Here, too, he would eventually turn right again.  This time, though, his elderly guard did not accompany him beyond this point.  He walked the rest of the way to the large austere-looking chamber on his own.

The walk was not, in fact, a very long distance.  This was all too overwhelming for me; with that, I went off and sat down around the corner and away from the sight of the arrogant warlord being put to death.

Slumping into a seat, I wondered as to what this all meant for my most recent past incarnation.

Sitting there, I became drained of all my energies.  I also accepted the fact that, within the short time that I had walked back from the final corridor to take a seat, this man had already been put to death by the state.  Somehow, he had been eliminated: either by a bullet to the heart or a lethal injection.

There was no way that they were not going to do what they had to do.  Off in the little booth, in which I sat, I knew that just like that a man had been executed.  I found it all a bit too much to have to take.

Soon, there was another procession in which another condemned man was being borne to his death; this one was going to another gas chamber.  This man was even more ancient that the other and was also a high-ranking member of the past regime.

All that I could have thought of was what possible connections could I have reincarnationally had, in my immediate past life, to all this ritualistic European bloodlust.

A truly gruelling experience and, of course, lucid and definitely astral plane-focussed.  Finding it all too much to have to suffer, I chose rather intently to awake from sleep.  I wanted out.

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Photo credit: Stock photo of adorned pachyderms during the elephant festival of Jaipur.

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Animals, Astral plane habitué, Dreams, Music, Reincarnation | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Tentacles and boneless chicken breasts.

balsamic+barbecue+sauce boneless chicken breasts

During much of my three-year stay in Vancouver, there were many dreams involving contact with extra-humans.  I do believe that this betrays the highly focussed extra-human activity in that part of the planet at present. 

At the time of these dreams, the Moon transited both Gemini and my first house.  The dreams were dreamt in the late evening on Monday, April 22, 1996 prior to heading in to work on the midnight shift.  

These dreams were recorded on audiocassette two hundred and nine and are to be found in volume XXI of the 25 volume dream opus.  I trust that these dreams will just as richly inspire you as they have me.  Be well and sweet dreams as ever. 

_______________________

Here, in this the first dream, it felt as though I was at the Recreation Fields in Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  At the time, it was daytime out.  There was a great deal of consternation as everyone became increasingly more unsettled.

To the point of being extraordinary, the sky was spectacularly blue.  I then noticed that there was something hanging in the sky.  Either it was an extra-low-orbiting satellite or a shuttle EHV.

Either way, it could plainly have been seen with the naked eye.  Lots of persons were pointing out that there was something else; they were convinced that it must be an EHV.

Sure enough, on looking at the terrestrial craft long enough, there I noticed a flying saucer-like craft.  The craft was disc-shaped and one had the sense that it was holding the human craft in place.

The EHV darted back and forth, from right to left, then came forwards a bit in that way it was not being eclipsed by the craft.  The movements were in a zigzag fashion.  The craft obviously was not of this planet.

Everyone was excited, though, fearful too.  Soon, lots of persons began taking flight.  Before I knew what next, I was then inside the craft and immediately saw one of its occupants.

He was fleshy pink but had tentacles rather than arms or legs.  Too, the extra-human’s tentacles were rather rubbery-looking.  As this species did not have hands, all over the floor of the craft there were multiple foot panels.

The creature had at least six tentacles.  Some of the peddles had knobs on them for greater purchase and ease when manipulating – no pun intended.  These peddles and knobs were used to fly the craft.

Each tentacle ended in only a thumb and a single digit.  The digit was a large claw-like dexterous appendage that was five times longer than the thumb.

Truth be told, the foot panels and gears much reminded me of the film Buckaroo Banzai in which the actor John Lithgow played the crazed commander.  The extra-human vehicle (EHV/UFO) was quite long a craft; it was not at all a small cramped affair as one would have assumed.

The extra-human close to me, whom I had first noticed, began speaking giving directives.  He spoke in a language that was not the least bit intelligible.  There was nothing remotely human about his diction.  He was definitely not of this Earth.

Really, it was more so a set of squeaks and squawks.  He could really throw his voice and each time that he did, it carried a great deal of weight.  His voice had the ability of rendering one paralysed.

Though he spoke aloud, it was simultaneously telepathic.  Eventually, I was released back to the ground and was never harmed while onboard.  At least, of what I do recall of the experience, it never proved traumatic in anyway.

_______________________

After having been on the wrong side of the street, during this the second dream, I crossed over to the other side.  While awaiting the next transport’s arrival, I stood at a bus stop.  There were some persons inline who were yattering away.

Undeniably, thanks to the bleed-through of racism’s absurdity into the dreamtime, there was some animus being directed my way.  One seemingly was on Toronto’s Yonge Street, in front of what used to be the Allen Cherry store, just south of Bloor Street East and on the east side.

There was a red and white bus sign with blue markings; the latter colour signified that it was an all-night bus stop.  When the line broke up a bit, I wanted to edge up but chose not to; this was a bid on my part to have ignored the locals.

Soon enough, the bus rolled up to the stop and at once everyone began getting on board.  Beyond that, I never did board the vehicle after all.

Where would I have gone to anyway?

In order that I could become grounded, for having been onboard the EHV, this aimless activity was just something to do.

_______________________

While focussed in this the third dream, Penina da Braga and I were having a heated argument.  I was fairly convinced that she had not yet listened to the audiocassette that I had sent her.

She assured me that she was not going to be coming up to Toronto in November for Isadore da Braga’s 80th birthday.  Said she, she had already had other plans to go to St. Thomas, U. S. Virgin Islands to see Margurite Sommer.

I couldn’t believe her ignorance.  After all, it was her own father whose 80th birthday was a special milestone to have celebrated.  Penina then paused and neither of us said anything for the longest while.

I then began looking through a newspaper in which was a lineup of persons.  For looking at it long enough, each photograph became holographic.

There was one of Margaret Trudeau-Kemper; she was speaking about her life in New York when living it up at Studio 54.  Apparently, someone big from that era had recently died.  Margaret Trudeau-Kemper was rather amazed and upset on learning the news of the individual’s death.

Turning the page caused the next items to become holographically realised.  There was the local television line up in which there was going to be a two-hour TV special, from 8-10 PM.

The show was going to be on either the UPN network in Boston or Chicago.  The show would be called, Sinatra Goodbye.  There were several leggy women on hand for the television special.

One of the grand ladies was the Russian ballerina Natalia Makarova as well as Shirley MacLaine.  Frank Sinatra was standing off to the far left; he looked rather stout and old as though he had a liver disease or failing kidneys.

Natalia Makarova stood two women to his left.  Of course, Liza Minnelli was also on hand.  All of them were dressed in gowns that looked like they were designed by Erté.

Shirley MacLaine, though to the far right, was not the last one in the row.  The photo had come to life and covered the newspaper’s entire face with Natalia Makarova to the immediate left of the centre crease.

Shirley MacLaine had a very whimsical look on her face.  All of these women had either appeared in films with Frank Sinatra or were close personal friends of his.

The variety show special was going to be a song and dance show.  This was a tribute to the chairman of the board’s illustrious career and one in which he was not expected to participate.

However, it certainly was not as if he had died.

______________________

I was seated at a computer console, in this the fourth dream, except that I had a hard time being able to properly see the screen.  Though we had never interacted, I was off working by myself with Geraldine Rhys close by.

She had sat to my left yattering away to someone; I had been of the impression that she had been speaking on a cellphone.  While she spoke, a series of numbers began randomly appearing on the monitor.

Soon, I realised that they were a series of six numbers which represented the 6/49 lottery draw.  Sure enough, they were all numbers that I had recently played.  As a matter of fact, just to make sure, I had hurried off and checked them out again.

I had taken awhile before figuring out the order to what seemed merely a stream of random numbers.  Six of the numbers were ones that I had recently played.  On realising that I had won the lottery, I had become immediately excited.

Obviously, there was no need to be there on the job any longer.  Just to have been on the safe side, I had remained calm and double-checked the numbers again.  As a matter of fact, I was so excited by all this that I awoke.

*Clearly, I never did win the lottery!  END.

_______________________

While next focussed in the fifth dream, I had six pieces of boneless chicken breasts which I had decided to grill.  Here, it was a very large kitchen where there a gas range.  I had held the plate on which the chicken breasts sat in a nice succulent-looking juice.

I didn’t, however, want them to start drying up; for that reason, I made sure that they sat in ample juices.  As they began being grilled, I held them with some large tongs and goodness the chicken breasts were beautiful-looking.

When the fat and juices fell from the chicken breast, into the flame, it would billow up and grill them more evenly.  They were being beautifully browned while I made sure that they remained evenly toned.  They were rather succulent-looking.

More than that, it was very good to be cooking in this dream.  I felt truly fulfilled.

_______________________

Photo credit: Stock photo of grilled boneless chicken breasts.

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Actors, American Artists, Artists, Award-winning artist, Cooking in dreams, Dancers, Divas, Dreams, Dreams of ETs, Dreams of extra-humans, Dreams of famous persons, Longreads, Singers, Stage performers, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Girl In Forest.

Girl in Forest 1999 Luo Fahui oil on canvas

Oil on Canvas

© 1999 Luo Fanhui

There is such remarkable sensuality to this painting.  I love it.

_______________________

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th Century Art, 20th Century Chinese Art, 20th Century Chinese Artists, 21st Century Chinese Art, Art, Artists, Contemporary American artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Chinese art, Contemporary Chinese artists, Oil on canvas, Oil paintings, Painting | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Druids from points unknown.

A redhead vogue uk

On Saturday June 1, 1996 while then living in Vancouver, I would dream the following dreams.  At the time, the Moon then transited both Sagittarius and my seventh house, wherein is posited my natal Moon in Sagittarius trine the leonine Sun. 

Of course, as the Moon is in the seventh house, it alludes to a partner of luminous spirituality.  Naturally, that partner could be none other than Merlin and task companion no less. 

Too, these dreams were recorded on the two hundred and twenty-second audio cassette of the 250 fifty such tapes as part of the 25 volume dream opus.  What’s more, the dreams are to be found in volume XXII of the XXV volume opus. 

Eh bien, on to the business at hand: dreams.  Dreams, dreams and the most glorious of dreams… as you have come to expect.  Sweet dreams and know that I am deeply appreciative of your support. 

_______________________

While walking around outdoors at daytime, in this the first dream, I had kept on looking up into the sky.  I had had a deep sense here that there was a great deal of extra-human activity, in the waking state in the last few days, here on the continental North American West Coast.

Both the astral plane and the physical plane simultaneously exist in the same space but at variant frequencies.  Knowing this, I knew that there would be signs here in the dreamtime of the resonances picked up on in the waking state.

Seeing that I was on the West Coast, in real time on the astral plane, I kept myself attuned to picking up on any glimmers from the quirks and clues vibrationally sensed in the waking state.

For being on the astral plane, this meant that the extra-humans presently being vibrationally sensed on the physical plane would be readily discernible on the astral plane which was connected to present Earth time.

At least, there would have to have been some extra-human vehicular (UFO) traffic spotted here on the astral plane.  Surely for having looked into the sky long enough, I had caught sight of an EH spacecraft.

Powder blue in colour on the bottom, the EH craft was a multiple-storeyed affair.  Too, the EHV was thrice as long as the largest ocean liners in the waking state.  Soon the craft swooped down from the sky and crash-landed or so it had seemed.

To say the least, all the human EH watchers present flipped out and began hysterically running while thinking that the worst was upon us.  This was not the advent of the New Age EHs who had come to spirit us away was the general consensus.

As for me, I felt that these extra-humans were definitely inimical to human interest.  Eventually, I did see the extra-humans; though they had looked human enough, they were more so Caucasian rather than not.  They definitely were, however, not humans.

Somehow, these extra-humans had done their research and disguised themselves to appear as if White humans.  The implication was that since Whites were running the show, they would adopt the power player’s modalities.

For one thing, I was surprised at how malleable their craft was.  The EH spaceship had gotten damaged on the crash-landing.  On looking at the powder blue shell of the craft, it had the ability of becoming crinkled like aluminum foil but could just as readily retract back into its innate state, wrinkle-free and rather tough-looking.

While onboard their spaceship or on their nascent world or worlds, these extra-humans obviously didn’t look a thing remotely human.  Eventually, some of them left the craft with one of the EHs breaking away from the group.

She was a young girl who looked a bit too small to be fully human.  She seemed like some sort of elfin Druidic faerie almost.  Clearly, she was a young adult but was not more than four feet tall.

Parted in the centre, her reddish-coppery mane was quite electric vibrationally.  More than that, right away, the one feature one picked up on about this one was that she had above-average psychic abilities.

There had been a small black dog in the neighbourhood where they had touched down.  In protest, the dog had tirelessly yelped in protest of their queer vibrational signatures.

Basically, beyond her human camouflage, the dog had the ability to see this EH in her natural state.  He knew straight off the bat that this was no mere trusted bipedal companion-host type.

Matter-of-factly, she went over to the dog which was tethered to a leash.  Picking up the leash, the EH woman-child looked down at the dog which by that point was in a low growl with its gaze fixed on her.

Effortlessly, the EH levitated the dog by raising the leash.  Next, I experienced a sharp increase of the universal din; the tone increased to the point where it became acutely uncomfortable.

Just like that, the high-pitched tone popped and the dog’s body fell limp; the dog looked as though it had been snapped at the neck.  When it finally came to, sometime later, the dog went berserk and bolted away.

Every time that it got to an invisible force-field’s periphery, the dog would fall silent and momentarily paralysed.  All this, when the dog still had lots of leash left for manoeuvring.

From its sputtering motions, it was clear that the dog was being psychically stunned with a burst of electromagnetic energy.  The extra-human female managed to have affected this degree of control in the creature.

The poor dog simply had no way of escaping being caught in this vicious circle.  I found it rather cruel; even though I am not especially partial to dogs, it still pained me to see this creature’s freedom being reined in.

Next, this little extra-human newcomer tried out her skills, here amongst the natives, by setting a house afire; for simply having looked at the house, it was set ablaze.  She was a very aggressive little, troublemaking extra-human.

Headstrong, she decided to break away from the landing party; she wanted to raise a little experimental hell on her own.  I didn’t have the sense that the others were there to do as she was doing or that her behaviour was culturally sanctioned.

One had the sense that she neither liked humans nor Earth for that matter; it must have been anathema a proposition to her host species, on the whole, to be on amongst Earthly humans.

Since everyone was taking flight, I certainly had no intentions of sticking around to find myself captured and probed.  Indeed, why be probed here when one could be probed of choice either on the astral plane or Stanley Park, more engagingly.

_______________________

Nighttime, in this the second dream, found me in an unfamiliar house.  While there, Pandora and I were puttering about.  In particular, there was a large trunk which really caught my eye.

There was a large box set that was filled with albums from a bygone era.  All of them were in red sleeves and proved to be classical albums.  They were compositions by Edvard Grieg which immediately had me thinking of Bryan Trottier.

Not readily accessible or MOR as they say, the style musically was modern.  There were strains of this music which had Wagnerian tonalities; it, however, was not by Richard Wagner’s work.  I soon began pouring through the records and had put aside records 3 and 4.

I wanted to see what record 1 sounded like.  That album turned out to have exclusively been the overture.  This was an epic work with many movements.  Too, it was on the order of Richard Wagner’s Das Rheingold of the ring cycle.  Again, this music was neither operatic nor Wagnerian.

I had told Pandora what the music was all about and where to look to find the rest of it.  Pandora here was fairly sleepy and wanted to do nothing save go off to bed and sleep.

So off we went to make the bed where we struggled with pulling up the covers on one side of it.  To my having been to the left of the bed, Pandora had been on the right side.

After having pulled up the covers, on my side of the bed, it soon became apparent that there was something that ran down the length of the bed’s centre.  A partition of sorts, it was most strange.

Later on, she and I went into a store where they sold lots of Amerindian art.  I had asked the clerk where they kept their postcards and she had directed me to a rack in the centre aisle of the store.

All over the walls and on the display racks were masks and lithographs of Northwest Coast Amerindian design; the designs were mostly Haida.  They were simply exquisite.  Just to have stood there and drunk them in was rhapsodic.

The array of totemic iconography was dazzling.  Each and every one of them was a potent magical entity onto itself.  Too, there were some soapstone carvings.  Instead of them having been Inuit, they had been Haida rather than not.

Pandora and I were looking for particular kinds of postcards that she wanted.  I had been the one to have suggested that she get some postcards as the other items financially were much out of our range.

We never quite found what we were looking for though.  There were some White males there who looked at us in that leering vacuous way that White bigoted assholes will affect to let one know that one is a mere, recently uplifted ape – not quite fully sentient and certainly not intelligent.

They were, not surprisingly, misinterpreting the situation.  Pandora had, in fact, still looked a bit sleepy here; she really was quite out of it.

Quite frankly, she was in a form of somnambulance; when one considers that this young woman spent most nights of her childhood sleepwalking, this was not the least bit surprising.

I could not so much have given a flying fuck what these waking state psychic zombies thought; they pass their entire lives on autopilot regurgitatively groping along and more often drunk or on drugs.

Truly the spiritually blind are such Whites.

That aside, we took an entire tour of both sides of the display rack but didn’t come up with anything remotely like what we were looking for.  While other album covers were sepia-toned, there were ones that were water-coloured.

Quite modern, they were more so of arboreal scenes than anything else.  Though they were interesting to look at, they were not quite to my liking.

Besides, since they were not what we were after in the first place, I suggested to Pandora that we shop around elsewhere.  I thought that we should at least have tried finding something close to what we were after.  So we took our leave of the place and soon Pandora and I became separated.

She simply and quite literally had faded out of existence.  This occurred as she had fallen asleep; quite simply, Pandora had energetically tuned in elsewhere.  The whole affair was a rather magical process.

At the time, I knew exactly what it meant and was not terribly affected or upset by it.  When we had been spreading the covers on the partitioned bed, she really ought then to have then gone to sleep.

Alone, I wandered along Robson Street at nighttime.  Though I wanted to shop at Safeway, I couldn’t as it had been shut down due to strike action taken by its seemingly underpaid staffers.

Instead, I went to the corner store and soon discovered that there was a lot of heavy traffic there.  I went to the magazine store at the north-eastern corner of Robson and Denman Streets and disturbingly discovered that the place had been gutted.

The store had been closed with not a single rack or item inside.  I couldn’t believe it; first Safeway on strike and now this.  Where the devil was I going to get my porno magazine from, might I ask, I wondered aloud?

What the devil was afoot in this the country’s most vibrant economic metropolis?  So I then began crossing the street on the east side of Denman Street at Robson Street.

The streetlight had change but since there were lots of people everywhere, I had hurried across anyway.  Hurriedly, I moved through the people and could feel the seething racial animus from beyond the parked cars’ windshields and the fellow pedestrians focussed on me.

So very realistic, I thought, of this strange place Vancouver.  Never does it cease to amaze how absurd these people can be.  The more beautiful the natural surroundings, the more pronounced is the racial animus coming from Whites.

Of course, in most such places, Vancouver, Los Angeles and South Africa, these places were gained thanks to having raped and stolen from the original owners.  Truth be told, it is about Whites not being karmically at ease, for what was done back there – regardless of how much it is parroted as being ‘god’s country’.

In my experience, the racism is always more pronounced in these places.  Of course, I have never been to South Africa but then again its racism has not been undocumented.

Someone had made a rude remark as I sped across, however, I had refused to acknowledge the bullshit by tuning into it.  I simply couldn’t be bothered.  Moving along, I came up the incline southwards on Robson Street to the Robson bus stop, on Denman Street, where I caught a bus.

_______________________

Next, in this the third dream, I was on a jobsite where I worked on computers.  Here the ATRs were not working in the hallways so most people didn’t quite know what to do.

I suggested that we simply go in and report for work anyway.  I saw Lea Hoare who not surprisingly was wearing her faded, trusted blue jean-jacketed outfit with matching pants.

When she went to use the ones in the offices, she balked on entering and finding Ari Kakoupolis in the midst of a presentation.  I told her not to worry and to go ahead and unobtrusively clock in as it wouldn’t be a problem.

I told her to hurry up as I was trying to get going; I had wanted to get back to work as she stood in the partially opened door and unintentionally blocked my progress.

_______________________

Alas, in this the fourth dream, I was taking a dance class and was quite happy to be doing so.  I felt really good to be checking into my body.  All that these dreams ever are about is engaging in serious energy work.

Movement, in these instances, is being used to align my energies and vibration according to the adjustments necessary for remaining most adequately attuned.

I was at the barre while taking a ballet class.  Here, I wore those favoured grey legwarmers that I had back in my first year at the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School.  Too, I wore matching grey socks.

Presently, I worked on keeping as many of my toes as possible on the ground as I stood in à la seconde doing a tendu à la seconde.  For as long as possible, I concentrated on keeping my toes on the floor and making sure to point the feet as much as possible.

Here, my working leg was the right.  While quite focussed, I spent a great deal of time concentrated on feeling my right little toe.  Really had a sense of the old curled up cutie being fully extended and pointed at all times.

This proved quite good work all in all.  Too, I did the same thing on the dégagés and made sure to really stretch the toes over and downwards, working and stretching the arch to the max.

All around, this proved to have been quite good work.  My breathing here, not surprisingly, was simply yogic.

_______________________

Photo credit: © 1970 Barry Lategan, Vogue UK March 1970.

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Animals, Art, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Canadian art, Drawing, Dream Shamanism, Dream travel to distant worlds, Dreams, Dreams of ETs, Dreams of extra-humans, Etchings, First Nations Art, Haida Art, Inuit art, Lithography, Longreads, Music, Oil paintings, Painting, Sculpture, Shamanism, Shapeshifting in dreams, South Africans | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Prince George, Duke of Kent.

(c) Peter Elwes (son); Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Oil on Canvas

99 x 85 cm

© 1932 Simon Elwes

Provenance:  Library and Museum of Freemasonry, London, England

Without a doubt, the most fascinating member of the House of Windsor in the 20th Century.

And now for a little All Hallow’s Eve yarn-spinning:

Forget about Edward VIII and Diana, Princess of Wales; although, what with his interrupted life at 39, and Diana’s at 36, it may well be that Prince George was reincarnated as Diana, Princess of Wales.  An interrupted lifetime is always followed by another shortened lifetime – a tying up of loose-ends incarnation.

Certainly, there is matching charismatic charm that Diana, Princess of Wales (2nd level mature artisan soul) bears to Prince George, Duke of Kent.  Why was Prince George, Duke of Kent when he died violently in a plane crash in Scotland handcuffed to a briefcase full of Krona?  Diana, Princess of Wales died violently involved with a lover of foreign nationality/currency.  Alas, this Hallow’s Eve, it would do good to remember that both Prince George, Duke of Kent and Diana, Princess of Wales’s deaths betray some degree of foul play.

If, indeed, this is actually true, it would mark that soul having been a member of the House of Windsor in consecutive lifetimes without ever becoming monarch, though, in both cases, was well within line to have become monarch.

Sweet and blissful dreams to the astral bodies – which survives reincarnations and endures across time; thus making it possible to have access to past-life arcana – of them both…

Queer it isn’t – and there are no coincidences – Diana’s stepmother, Raine Spencer was – according to her mother, novelist, Barbara Cartland her lovechild with Prince George, Duke of Kent, who was also said to have parented Michael Canfield first husband of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis’s (young soul king) sister, Lee Radziwill.  Truth be told, the Raine/Diana, Princess of Wales connection is most intriguing.

Of course, outdoing both Edward VIII and Diana, Princess of Wales, Prince George, Duke of Kent was the lover of Noël Coward.  Now that… was a rich life in full and definitely he was possessed of a goal of Growth.

I have always loved this portrait; look at the power and elegance in his hands.  I also happen to think that he is the most handsome male to have been born to the House of Windsor in the 20th Century – his grandson, James Ogilvy running a close second!

I wish that someone had penned a really juicy biography of this truly fascinating man…  Was he a spy?  Was he put to death and why the briefcase full of Krona?  Intriguing!  Perhaps, someday, Lady Colin Campbell – whose Empress Bianca I paid a handsome fortune to acquire at the time that it was pulped – will use her skilled pen to paint a rich portrait of Prince George, Duke of Kent.

*Diana, Princess of Wales’s Michael Overleaves can now be found in the Michael Overleaves Appendix page.

_______________________

Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.

http://tanzeena.com/

© 2014 Arvin da Braga.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th Century Art, 20th Century British Art, 20th Century British artists, Art, Art Collection, Artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary British Art, Jazz, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Oil on canvas, Oil paintings, Painting, Portraiture, Reincarnation, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment