Stephen Hawking’s Supernova

Stephen Hawking

Hawking, Stephen 8/1/42<O>14/3/18

Michael: What you are seeing in the fragment who is now Stephen is a seventh level old Scholar in the observation mode, with a goal of growth, a sceptic. 

This is his first life in the last of the physical cycles but we note that there has been tremendous progress here in that this fragment is for the most part transcendent in his ability to leave the body at will and travel through the limitless leaves of the Tao. 

Yes, of course he chose to have a frail unworkable body.  He did not specifically choose amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.  The choices are not that limiting but he did choose not to have to be bothered with the physical body, so that he could finish what he needed to do intellectually. 

We did not give a centring here because this fragment spends a great deal of time in touch with higher centres, although he is, as you might suppose pretty much centred in the Intellectual part of Intellectual Centre but is able to use the Higher Emotional Centre at will. 

This fragment is lively, bright, fairly happy and although aware of his severe limitations, not in the least sorry for himself.  This fragment has been literate over fifty times.  He was nine times the tutor to royal children.  He was an inscribing monk and did beautiful illuminations during five lifetimes. 

He was a scribe to the fragment who was Julius Caesar.  He was a lector for the emperor Marcus Aurelius.  He was a Grecian scholar on the Isle of Rhodes, during the height of the golden age of Greece. 

He was an Arabian mathematician and was instrumental in giving the world the zero to work with, which greatly improved and facilitated the study of higher mathematics.  He was a geographer twice. 

So, this fragment is no stranger to the world of study, however, this is the life he chose to make his greatest contributions.  Many of you could speak with Stephen in the dream state, for he is very accessible.  This fragment has many things he could teach all of you. 

He has a great deal of recall that he puts to good use in this life.  The age of this fragment’s soul accounts for his ability to detach from the physical body.  A younger soul could not do this with such élan. 


At the time of Diana, Princess of Wales’ death (August, 1997) Sarah J. Chambers, channeller of the original Michael Group, shared Dr. Hawking’s overleaves with me, along with those of HRH Prince Charles Prince of Wales, Madonna Ciccone, Prince and Michael Jackson.  Though it is not listed in the overleaves, Sarah stated in an email communiqué that this would be Stephen’s final life; his soul would no longer reincarnate at the conclusion of this life, which would occur near 21 years later.  

Interestingly, as it was his final life, Stephen Hawking in a wrap up of having downloaded his vast intellectual awareness as the ultimate scholar soul would pass or, more appropriately, supernova at the time of the most intense solar storm in long years… there are no coincidences.  I was once guided in a dream and told that the Sun and all stars are the portal through which all sentient and reincarnating souls pass between the planes on reincarnating and passing.  Obviously, there was a great celebratory event as Stephen Hawking at the conclusion of his reincarnation cycle returned to his entity one last time — hence he was facilitated via the solar storm.  

Back on Monday, March 5, 2018, I went to see Darkest Hour with Gary Oldman at the Vue Cinemas in London’s Leicester Square.  Comfortably seated in theatre 8, about halfway into the film, I began witnessing a fair bit of paranormal activity.  I sat in the back row between two English couples, neither of whom were amorous.  From time to time, when actors on screen were in closeup, their eyes would suddenly become black-within-black with fully dilated pupils.  There were times, when I was able to make out Kristin Scott-Thomas’ aura — I found her performance exacting and intense.  More than that, I witnessed foggy, grey-white tall humanoid forms simply getting up from the seats in multiple rows ahead of me, turn either right or left then simply walk through the dark walls of the mid-sized theatre.  

I chose to remain composed because having a fearful response, is all about losing control and homie never plays that.  As the experience unfolded for about 20 per cent of the film, it next ventured into territory with which I had long grown familiar.  Off to the right corner of the theatre and at the ceiling, there was an aperture of light with opened.  Slowly, the light expanded and began a portal of the same soft-focussed yellow/golden light.  I have seen this many time before.  Next, a series of light beings, say the size of a raven began manifesting.  These light beings are illumined from within and have large gossamer, illumined wings which are two-thirds the size of their tiny bodies; the wings also flap about not unlike an elephant’s ears do. 

These creatures arose from the seats before me and progressed from left to right and up and into the light which radiated from the portal.  Soon enough, I was keenly aware that I was the only person experiencing this; I was never fearful.  I did, though, remind myself that personal truth is the only valid reality — at least at moments such as this.  Previously, I have experienced this manifestation when persons close to me are about to pass; this can manifest either at the point of their departure or as early as up to two weeks in advance.  This has never occurred after the actual passing and never more than two weeks out from the actual passing.  What I have learnt, for having done as many overleaves as I have, is that these persons are with few exceptions either entity or cadre mates.  

Where they have not been thusly related to me, they have been famous persons on the global stage.  The last time that this had occurred was at Nelson Mandela’s passing.  This, by the way, I did not experience when the 20th century’s most famous woman, Diana, Princess of Wales, passed.  

With regards to Stephen Hawking, I feel that for being in London and 9 days out from his passing, I was being attuned to his preparations to cycle off his final incarnation.  The movement of the levitating illumined, winged tiny beings towards the portal of soft-focussed light is always a slow, languorous adage that seems to occur within an aqueous medium.  Also, at the time that the overleaves were shared, in a subsequent email, Sarah had shared that he was in greater cadre 4 of pod 129 — the rest of his casting I do not know.  

I have known two persons who passed of ALS, which Stephen Hawking had for decades.  Both persons, as is customary with ALS, passed within a year of being diagnosed.  In the case of one female coworker, she simply became all-consumed and grew fear-shrouded and cocooned.  There was so much fear readily discernible in her eyes.  Incidentally, when she passed, I had the exact same aforementioned paranormal manifestation.  I have not yet done her overleaves but would not be surprised if she comes back as an entity or cadre mate.  Also, after her passing, she appeared to me, in the most intensely lucid dream, very radiantly and thanked me for my support and assured me that she was now at peace with where she was.  Obviously, she was aware that I was distressed at how fearful she seemed at the prognosis of imminent death.  

Clearly, one can’t claim to know what she must have felt at the time; she, however, had simply become straight-jacketed by the fear of death and her own mortality.  Stephen Hawking endured for decades with ALS, likely the first such documented case in medicine, because he had conquered the fear of death.  He was totally at peace with his reality; moreover, he was more focussed on being in the now and completing his task of disseminating as much of the knowledge that he had acquired during the course of his reincarnational cycle.  There was nothing to fear.  Indeed, his overleaves of being a seventh level old scholar soul on his final life was thusly validated as he could not have cared less.  Death he had conquered long ago; the body and obsession therewith served no purpose for him.  He just wanted to get on with the task in hand of sharing his intellectual gifts with humanity.  

More than any other human being of the last two millennia, Stephen Hawking will be remembered and celebrated two millennia hence.  Sweet and blissful dreams and it was good to have been illumined by the stellar light of your accumulated intellectual gifts.  

As ever, thanks for your ongoing support and sweet dreams!   


©2013-2018 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

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All Too Human… And Then Some!


Well, after having been dazzled by Natalia Osipova, there was no doubt what next adventure my soul had to devour.  I arrived at Pimlico Station and enjoyed the cool brisk walk to the red and white gorgeousness of the neighbourhood architecture.  I arrived at 08:50, a good hour ahead of the opening.  I took the time to place my palm on as many of the august sycamore trees in the neighbourhood as I could.  There were some high-end cars waiting out front of the Tate Britain Museum to take in All Too Human as yet another jetliner roared towards London Heathrow.  Definitely bulletproof, a stately Benz sat closest to the entrance with a smoky grey Bentley, SUV no less, parked furthest of the cars.  


Eventually, persons began turning up and the engaging West African security agent who had the same strong, proud, full-lipped mouth as Leontyne Price’s closed one of the two heavy black doors to protect me as I waited outside the main glass sliding doors as a private event was underway — thus one couldn’t be allowed inside.  Finally, persons began leaving, one of whom — in a beautifully vivid red coat — was Cherie Blair CBE, QC.  She was proud-looking and had the kind of broad body that as I child was so familiar when growing up in the West Indies.  She had that air about her that bespoke a life in the public eye; someone made a curt remark and she was quick on the rebuttal.  I was much humoured and reminded of Saddam Hussein trading insults with the men who moments later gladly terminated his life.  


Finally, it was on to the business in hand and what a beautifully stunning exhibition; one of the best contemporary art exhibitions that I have attended in years.  The greatest discovery was the lush, richness of the Lucian Freud still-life, Two Plants.  Thoroughly layered, engrossing and lyrical in its deft vividness.  I was left teary eyed by its sublime beauty. 

Sleeping by the Lion carpet Leigh Bowrey

Of course, I was moments earlier moved to dewy-eyed focus when drinking in the rich tableau of the portrait of creative artist and true eccentric, Leigh Bowery whom many years earlier I had seen perform in New York City.   I was reminded, of course, in Leigh’s passing of the countless many whom I have lost along the way to AIDS.

All Too Human

The poster for the show at Russell Square Tube Station in Bloomsbury.  A wonderful tribute to Leigh who covered a fair bit of ground during his lifetime… sweet and blissful dreams be yours…  


Naturally, I booked my flight based on two things: one, Giselle with Osipova and secondly, a joint exhibition featuring Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon.  For that, I would gladly hop a Tesla to Iapetus.  Of course, this exhibition was a pilgrimage of sorts for me and it was a way of paying homage to the artistic accomplishments of cadre mates.  

Study for Portrait of Lucian Freud Francis Bacon

As per the portrait of Lucian Freud above, these two artists are cadre mates of mine and Merlin’s.  Lucian Freud is a mature priest in our entity (6).  Along with Rudolf Nureyev and Grace Jones, Francis Bacon is next-door in entity 5 of our cadre.  Francis is a mature artisan, Grace Jones a mature warrior and Rudolf Nureyev a mature sage… and how.  I was thoroughly warmed to have drunk of their spirits.  

Portrait of Isabel Rawsthorne 1966 by Francis Bacon 1909-1992

This particular portrait, Isabel Rawsthrone, I especially loved.  Raw, primal and emotionally intense there is something decidedly operatic about the focussed intensity of this portrait.  After initially getting over the intensity of it, it proves rather warm and enveloping.  

Three Figures and Portrait 1975 by Francis Bacon 1909-1992

This was a thoroughly arresting and soul-stirring adage; it was a beautiful way to have begun the day’s adventures.  


After walking past the noise of the construction/renovations taking place on the first floor — one of the workers was a real pulse-racer, looking as he did like no end of hot, rough sex and in work gear no less!  Then it was downstairs to take in the Impressionists in London exhibition.  I did not buy the catalogue.  I always am a bit put-off by the association of the word “dream” when describing the works of impressionists.  There is nothing unfocussed or diffused about dreams.  Trust you me, as someone who recalls at least half a dozen dreams on average, oftentimes, dreams prove the most lucid part of any given day.  Perhaps, it was all the wine the French impressionists consumed but the maudlin-feeling lighting just doesn’t do it for me… most times.  

Notting Hill Gate

Having had my fill, off I went from Pimlico to Nothing Hill Gate in the wet snow and made the long trek to Kensington Palace where one of the most glorious flying dreams in this lifetime was set — also, in that dream was a then incarnate, Diana, Princess of Wales with her two beautiful-spirited sons, the future HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and HRH Prince Henry of Wales and Duke of as-yet-known after he marries his beautiful bride, Ms. Meghan Markle — a mature artisan, to his mature warrior and an entity mate of his no less.  

Kensington Palace

On the long trek along Broad Walk in Kensington Gardens from the high street, I enjoyed the look of snow everywhere.  The odd flake fell from time to time as joggers braved the fierce wind off the park.  One brave soul with a shock of close-cropped red hair, sported the greatest thighs as he jogged strictly in a pair of wrestler’s shorts.  He proved warming for my blood, indeed.  


As I got towards the edge of Kensington Palace the handsome raven above swooped in from off my rear right and towards the palace.  He alighted, cocked the head at me and kept taking to the wind to come closer, all the while fixing me with a hard gaze.  “Yes, of course, you can see my heart.  Love is the password” I said aloud to the totemic creature as it kept on calling at me and edging ever closer, though, not being confrontational.  Satisfied with my password, seemingly, it bobbed and took to the air never to alight again.  I rather appreciated the warm welcome.  


I loved the sparse beauty of the King’s Gallery at Kensington Palace, which — for me at least — was lauded over by the Equestrian Portrait of HM King Charles I by Sir Anthony van Dyck, who happens to be in entity 1 of my cadre; he, presently incarnate and one of my oldest friends, shortly is about to return from his winter stay at his Acapulco penthouse; I will be visiting him later this spring on the Canadian west coast.


A truly beautifully tailored, handsome suit, this one.  I am not a big fashion person — I believe that one is best dressed when naked and preferably tumescent.  I did, though, rather enjoyed the movement through the Diana, Princess of Wales exhibition.


A very beautiful second-level mature artisan, she was too.  

HRH Catherine Duchess of Cambridge

Having been inspired by Diana, Princess of Wales’ portrait, I made my way to Charing Cross Station in Trafalgar Square and cut across the street where there was a broken water main flooding the street.  As usual, Yoda was there doing his routine and, no doubt, earning a pretty quid.  I took in the HRH Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge-curated exhibition, which had opened two nights earlier on my arrival.  Though, I had stood outside the National Portrait Gallery to catch a glimpse of her arrival, I soon dashed off in the increasing snowfall, if I were to make my Jazz at Lincoln Center performance across town at the Barbican Center.  So, having missed seeing her in person, the next best thing was to go gaze at the portrait of HRH Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge.  I love it as it is so layered and complex; she is a late-mature warrior soul.  

National Portrait Gallery

As I move very, very quickly, I was out of there and soon grabbing a take-away fish and chips at Ben’s on Shaftesbury.  I then headed back to my hotel, ate, napped and got ready for a night at Royal Albert Hall to see OVO.  

Royal Albert Hall

Never before had I taken in a Cirque du Soleil performance — I have my reasons…  Nonetheless, I just wanted to enjoy anew the ambiance and acoustics of the marvellous auditorium.  


The show was no more engaging or exciting than bad bathhouse sex, which if it weren’t so late, one would never have bothered engaging in.  A perfectly forgettable tourist sort of thing to indulge when there was no other nighttime entertainment going that was worthwhile.  I could have taken in 42nd Street in the West End but I had already seen it at least a dozen times when then living and dancing in New York City in the early 1980s.  The idea of taking in 42nd Street was only slightly less irritating than the thought of messy bathhouse sex… options… choices, indeed!  


After the show, on the long walk from Royal Albert Hall to South Kensington Station, a young mesomorph asked me for a fag — I don’t smoke — but it was obvious what he was after.  He sat across the narrow aisle on the eastbound Piccadilly Line ride and the rest proved a rather memorable night.  


The morning after the night before, it was off to Windsor Castle, of which I will next blog.  

All Too Human Catalogue

As ever, sweet dreams and thank you for your ongoing support.  



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Two Albrechts but what a Giselle!

Giselle Royal Ballet

Second night in London and there was still lots of snow — at least, by London standards; after Montréal where three feet of snow is no horror, 1.5 inches seemed to have arrested London in its tracks — I was all excited to see David Hallberg whose recent memoir I read on the flight over and carried in my custom Ruben Mack messenger bag, to have it signed after the performance.  Enjoyed my glass of champagne and being in the balcony at Royal Opera house was magical.  My seat was smack in the middle of three Japanese young ladies who were being chaperoned by their lovely teacher.  I negotiated and they excitedly expressed their appreciation at being able to switch with me being on the end so that that they could all sit together.  The closest two sat on their coats and I even offered the tinier future Giselle my coat to sit on.  

Natalia Osipova Matthew Ball

Naturally, I was returned to London as last June, I had pleasantly discovered Natalia Osipova dancing in Marguerite and Armand and was instantly a fan.  There was no way that I was going to miss her Giselle.  Midway through Act I of Giselle, David whom I had never previously seen perform, failed to have impressed.  He seemed not to be dancing full out and the partnership seemed strained; it was as though they had not had enough rehearsals.  Then after intermission and really good champagne, the company’s artistic director came to the stage to announce that Mr. Hallberg had been injured during Act I and would not be proceeding; he then announced that the youngster, Matthew Ball would dance the role of Prince Albrecht in Act II — the house went wild as he had days earlier made his debut in the ballet.  

Natalia Osipova

What then unfolded was the most glorious of evenings in the theatre.  Ms. Osipova, who has the most phenomenal ballon ever witnessed on any ballerina — to say nothing of her turns — danced as if truly overjoyed.  Mr. Ball was also fantastic and I howled for joy at their curtain calls.  Heck, I, who never go backstage, went in hopes of having Mr. Hallberg sign my copy of his book; however, he was a no-show.  Ms. Osipova, inordinately gracious and an ecstatic Mr. Ball, who had had to dash back to the theatre that evening, was only too happy to sign my copy of the program as a steady drizzle fell beyond the double, glass stage doors.  


Of course, the night prior, I had trekked in even more snow out to Barbican Centre to catch yet another performance of the Jazz at Lincoln Centre Orchestra led by the unparallelled genius, Wynton Marsalis.  The programme was exclusively Leonard Bernstein in a celebration of his centenary… and what a phenomenal show it was.  London’s Jews were out in force to be sure.  I sat next to a princely 93-year-old Jew whose energies were rather like those of Yehudi Menuhin and boy was this man gracious of spirit.  To say the least, I had a ball.  


Naturally, one goes to a Wynton Marsalis performance for the encores!  And boy, he did not disappoint.  As always, I unashamedly howled like mad at the end of all that.  This musical genius’s fabulousness is out of this world.  This truly was a marvellous way to celebrate  a homecoming of sorts; London truly does feel like another West Indian isle.  As Merlin and I shared a rather accomplished life as court musicians in late 18th century London, it is always great to be in London.  

Arvin da Brgha 1.3.2018 Royal Academy London, England

Though I had downloaded the app and had planned on biking whilst in London, the snow everywhere precluded any such adventure.  So there was I next morning — the night of which I attended Giselle, leaving my hotel in Bloomsbury and making it from Russell Square to Piccadilly Circus to, of course, look at art.  

Royal Academy2

Naturally, I had arrived at the Royal Academy at Burlington House to see what for me was the most eagerly anticipated art exhibition in years:  Charles I, King and Collector.  I was the first to have arrived for the show, slipped inside from the snow before being asked to wait outside by security.   Whilst waiting at the head of the queue, there were three gentlemen who arrived, all on the other side of 70 years of age and they were the most urbane aristocrats whom I had ever encountered.  The way they spoke; there was no denying that they were posh.  Moreover, it was more than their accents; their use of language made it sound as though they were speaking a form of English which was mannered, musical and as though another language entirely.  

Royal Academy

Finally, once inside the exhibition, I was truly enthralled, moving from salon to salon as though in the most lucidly captivating dream.  Here were all my favourite Sir Anthony van Dyck paintings in one place — plus, there were some which previously I had not seen… at least, in this lifetime.  Naturally, there were also some rather intimate Sir Peter Paul Rubens in the exhibition, which featured the art from the impressive collection of HM King Charles I… that ode to swaggerliciousness and a young sage to boot.  

HM King Charles I Three Positions Sir Anthony van Dyck Oil on Canvas

I had managed to snap four paintings whilst moving through the first of ten salons when a kindly security agent asked that I obey the rules and refrain from taking photographs.  This truly was as though caught in a flying dream as I moved intoxicated of spirit from salon to salon, I managed whilst looking at murals in one of the larger salons, to make my way to the inner sanctum where the most glorious Sir Anthony van Dycks were hung — the two equestrian portraits one from the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square the other, which previously was hung at Buckingham Palace; there was also that most striking portrait Charles at the hunt which normally is hung at Musée du Louvre.  A lovely henna-braided African security agent informed me that I had progressed improperly and ought to retrace my steps and view the art in the salons on the periphery of the three large internal salons where murals, tapestries and the prized, aforementioned van Dycks of the Royal Collection collected by HM King Charles I were hung.  

Sir Peter Paul Rubens Self-Portrait Oil on Canvas

At the point at which I was about to leave one salon for the next, I suddenly and distinctly thought of Kritika Bhatt the Michael channeller who had been trained by Sarah J. Chambers one of the original channellers in the Michael group.  I thought it odd at the time as I only ever would think of her when a request for overleaves are outstanding and my impatience is having her surface to mind as I wonder if I would be receiving the requested overleaves that day.  Since this was not the case, I thought per chance, that I was thinking of her as she is known to have King Charles spaniels.  Yes, that must be the out-of-nowhere association, I concluded.  


On entering the next salon, I immediately moved towards the largest masterpiece and was struck by its depth and impressive use of strong bold colours.  What’s more, I had never seen the painting before.  Fascinating, I whispered before heading to the title to see the title and artist.  I was struck dead in my tracks when reading, Esther before Ahaseuras by Jacopo Tintoretto.  Wow!  I exclaimed.  Years earlier, in an email regarding the overleaves for other artists, Kritika had made mention that her current son had previously been the 16th century Italian artist, Jacopo Tintoretto!  I was floored and for me that out-of-nowhere associative thought of Kritika was validation of the overleaves and information shared years earlier.  

Sir Anthony van Dyck Self-Portrait with Sunflower Oil on Canvas

Earlier, whilst moving through the first salon, I had never come so close to Sir Anthony van Dyck’s Self-Portrait with Sunflower before.  Taking the time to really study the painting, I was struck by my response; suddenly, at my solar plexus, I began experiencing a — not though rare — thumping which was independent of my cardio rhythm.  Never before had I been able to so closely inspect the eyes in the self-portrait.  What was really interesting was the look of the artist’s left eye in the painting; it really was a darker version of my Dutch born and oldest friend, Joop who previously had been Sir Anthony van Dyck.  Though Joop’s eyes are a strong, soulful blue in this lifetime, they truly are the same eyes as Sir Anthony van Dyck’s in the self portrait.  Different colour, same vibration… same intensity.  I had not been expecting that and just as later whilst moving from one salon to the next, I was not expecting to have the Michael Teachings and overleaves validated.  Nonetheless, there is was, two instances of overleaves validated and that was the kind of bonus that one could not have anticipated whilst planning this trip.  

Fortnum &amp; Mason

After purchasing my lovely catalogue of the exhibition, I moved across the street and did some shopping at the grand old dame, Fortnum & Mason.  Let’s face it, I was there to slip into the eatery and score myself the best free lunch in London… and as ever, the bites on offer did not disappoint.  I bought marvellous teas as only can be found at Fortnum & Mason then hopped onto a double decker, driving westerly along Piccadilly.  Making my way up the stairs, I soon had to double back on myself when realising that the upper deck was packed with a sprinkling of London’s homeless, who obviously had been afforded refuge out of the cold and what for London was unheard of snows.  God it smelt atrocious.  As the bus made a right onto Buckingham Palace Road, I hopped off and made my way past the Royal Mews which were closed owing to snow and made it for the Queen’s Gallery at Buckingham Palace.  

Charles II Art &amp; Power

I was there to be wowed, though, sadly was not by the Restoration exhibition.  Naturally, how could it have been a show to rival that at the Royal Academy when most of that art had been sold off by the time of HM King Charles II’s coronation.  I would have been rather underwhelmed, had I gone to London just to take in this show.  As it was, it served as ample reason to have appreciated the Royal Academy show even more.  

HM King Charles IIb

Really got off on the vibration exuded by HM King James II as he held court in all his glory in the portrait in the same show at the Queen’s Gallery Buckingham Palace (following painting). 

HM King James II when HRH Prince James Duke of York

Well having had my fill of the Restoration art or the paucity thereof, I enjoyed trekking in the snows along Buckingham Palace Road to Victoria Station and descended into the depths of London’s Underground for yet another adventure.  

St. Paul's Cathedral

Emerging from the bowels of London, I made it to the soul of the nation to pay homage, yet again, at St. Paul’s Cathedral.  

St. Paul's Cathedral4

I wanted to go and light a candle, I lit two actually, in homage to the ennobled lives that both Merlin and I enjoyed in this glorious city three centuries earlier — the memories of which readily surface in the dreamtime.  

St. Paul's Cathedral3

Before one gets too old to be able to make the trek, I managed my way to the whispering gallery, sat down and caught my wind back whilst reflecting on my life.  

Henry Moore

This place so rich in history, is also the sacred shrine where entity mates have left their mark.  Henry Moore is an old artisan in my entity.  

Arthur Duke of Wellington

Of course, no visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral would be complete without paying a visit to the soul of the nation at its crypt and paying homage to ennobled souls who’ve made an indelible mark on London… on history.  There is great and fittingly so, grandeur in the tomb of Arthur, Duke of Wellington’s resting place.  

Admiral Nelson

Of course, the other tomb which dominates the crypt at St. Paul’s Cathedral is that of Admiral Nelson, whom both Merlin and I knew during that incarnation.  Doubtless, it was his passion and tales for and about Nevis, which planted that seed that sparked three lifetimes later with my soul’s choice to reincarnate into Nevis; indeed, it has proven an isle no less magical than his captivating anecdotes then must have been.  Days later, of course, I would see the bullet which felled this great man whilst visiting Windsor Castle; that is for another post.  For now, I rushed home, took a dream-filled nap before heading to Covent Garden and being wowed by two not one Albrechts and the most exciting prima ballerina on the planet… at least, as far as I am concerned.  


As ever, thanks for your ongoing support and look forward in coming months to book three of my dream-filled memoirs, mandated by Merlin and which prove human civilisation’s first dream memoirs.  


©2013-2018 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

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President & First Lady Obama.

President Obama

Oil on Canvas

©2018 Kehinde Wiley

Provenance: National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution.  



Oil on Linen

©2018 Amy Sherald

Provenance:  National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution.  


Beautifully exquisite!  Happy Black history month.   Love the fact that Mr. Wiley captures the essential warmth of President Obama as reflected by the glowing light of the President’s left eye.  Both artists, Amy Sherald and Kehinde Wiley masterfully used the medium in which they chose to work, linen and canvas respectively.  First Lady Michelle Obama is wearing a design by fashion designer, Michelle Smith @MILLY on Instagram.  I cannot wait to see both in person.  Thanks again for your ongoing support and as ever, sweet dreams.  


©2013-2018 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved. 

Posted in 21st Century African-American Artists, 21st Century American Art, 21st Century American Artists, 21st Century Art, 21st Century Artists, 21st Century Black Artists, African-Americans, American Art, American Artists, Americans, Art, Art Collection, Artists, Authors, Black American Art, Black Americans, Black Art, Black artists, Black creative artists, Contemporary American Art, Contemporary American artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Artists, Contemporary Black Art, Contemporary Black Artists, Creative Genius, Oil on canvas, Oil on linen, Oil paintings, Painters, Painting, Portraiture, Statesmen, Visionaries | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Dream Chamber


With some lovely sandalwood incense going, a beeswax candle and some late 18th century harpsichord breezily distant, evoking deeply buried memories of life at court in Regency London as a countertenor, thus one slips lucid, fecund and supremely feminine into sleep’s warm embrace.  For me the day begins at bedtime, the beauty of sleep is, one can never imagine the bounty of vistas and dream experiences about to be lived a few shorts breaths away.  So come with me, take a few deep breaths, feel the bedding lovingly warm against your wide-open naked body.  You are a soul about to unfurl its wings and take flight into the dreamtime… what happy quests await…  As ever, sweet dreams and thanks for your ongoing support.  Thank you Robert Davidson, Susan A. Point, for sharing your inspiring light with me.  Windows are highly overrated intrusions.  


©2013-2018 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 20th Century Art, 20th Century Artists, 20th century Canadian art, 20th century Canadian artists, 21st Canadian Artists, 21st Century Art, 21st Century Artists, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Authors, Black artists, Black creative artists, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Chakras, Coast Salish Art, Coast Salish Artists, Creative Genius, Crystals, Diarists, Dream Shamanism, Dreams, First Nations Art, First Nations Artists, Flying dreams, Haida Art, Haitian Artists, Indigenous Art, Lithography, Lucid dreams, Mature souls, Memoirs, Michael Overleaves, OBEs, Out-of-Body Experiences, Photography, Printmakers, Printmaking, Prints, Pyramid, Reincarnation, Serigraph, Shamanism, Singers, Spirituality, Stage performers, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Here’s to You!

Just a wee glimpse into my magical life where dreamquests are all begun in the groovy comfort of my collapsible pyramid.  I have had a pyramid since 1984 in one form or another.  This incarnation of my dream chamber, I rather love.  Being surrounded by art is about being greatly inspired.  

Happy New Year!  Thanks for your ongoing support and here’s wishing you the very best this year!  

Sweet dreams as ever! 


©2013-2018 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in 21st Canadian Artists, 21st Century Art, 21st Century Artists, 21st Century Black Artists, 21st century Canadian art, 21st Century Canadian Artists, Actors, African-Americans, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Authors, Black Art, Black artists, Black creative artists, Books, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Chakras, Coast Salish Art, Coast Salish Artists, Contemporary art, Contemporary Artists, Contemporary Canadian art, Contemporary Canadian Artists, Creative Genius, Crystals, Dance, Dance dreams, Dancers, Design, Diarists, Drawing, Dreams, Engraving, Etchings, First Nations Art, First Nations Artists, Flying dreams, Gay Artists, Indigenous Art, Inuit art, Inuit Artists, Lithography, Maori Art, Masks, Mature soul Artisans, Mature souls, Memoirs, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Modern Art, Modern Artists, Music, Oil paintings, Old souls, Out-of-Body Experiences, Painters, Painting, Photography, Portraiture, Print, Printmakers, Printmaking, Prints, Pyramid, Reincarnation, Serigraph, Shamanism, Spirituality, Stage performers, Video, Video Documentary, Visionaries, Visual Artists, Visual Arts, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Come Celebrate!

Come celebrate with me the launch of volume II of both Merlin and Arvin: A Shamanic Dream Odyssey and A Six Volume Michael Overleaves Appendix at my über chic Toronto apartment this December 22, 2017 at 2000hrs.

On hand will be copies of both volumes I & II of both the memoirs and the Michael Overleaves Appendices.  Great music, nibbles and an open bar.

Owl Quartet2

Nature of Things I of III Artist Proof2


Sockeye Salmon


As ever, sweet dreams and thank you so much for your ongoing support!


©2013-2017 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

Posted in Art, Art Collection, Artists, Authors, Books, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Creative Genius, Dancers, Dream Shamanism, Dreams, Dreams of Task Companion, First Nations Art, First Nations Artists, Lithography, Mature soul Artisans, Mature souls, Memoirs, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Music, Ojibwe art, Ojibwe Artists, Old souls, Printmakers, Printmaking, Private Art Collection, Reincarnation, Spirituality, Visual Artists, Visual Arts, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Always, I Will Remember & Celebrate!

Merlin 26121988 (2)

Merlin 21/7/1947<O>18/11/1989

Always I will remember and celebrate the greatest explosion of light, love, joy and intellect encountered in many lifetimes.  The One.  The Man.  The Shaman.  The Lover.

Merlin, I love you… and of this there can never be any doubt.

These memoirs are the story of Merlin and I as mandated by Merlin within days of his passing 28 years ago, this day.  The first two of six volumes are now available, along with their accompanying Michael Overleaves Appendices.  Available everywhere books are online.. get yours and as ever, thanks so much for your support!





©2013-2017 All Rights Reserved.  Arvin da Brgha.

Posted in Actors, Archetypes in dreams, Artists, Astral plane habitué, Authors, Award-winning artist, Books, Canadian artists, Creative Genius, Dream Shamanism, Dreams, Dreams of Merlin, Dreams of Task Companion, Lucid dreams, Magical Realism, Mature soul Artisans, Mature souls, Memoirs, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Old souls, photogaphy, Portraiture, Reincarnation, Shamanism, Spirituality, Visionaries, Writers | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Going Live!

The second volume of Human Civilisation’s first Dream Memoirs are dropping.  Please do get your copies.  I will also be hosting a launch/art collection event with open bar at my place over the holidays.  Will keep you posted.


This is Volume II; notice the clever roman numeral indicators in the different colour schemata of the title.


Appendix II of the six volume Michael Overleaves appendices.  In this appendix the Michael Overleaves for the following persons appear:  George Balanchine, Robert Bateman, Mikhail Baryshnikov, George Benson, Pierre Berton, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother, Liona Boyd, Dave Brubeck, William F. Buckley Jr., Fernando Bujones, Carlos Castaneda, Dick Cavett and lots more.

Tis the holiday season, these marvellous books would make great presents for the ones you love and especially the bibliophiles in your circle.

Do stand by as the podcast is slowly coming together.

As ever, sweet dreams and thanks so much for you ongoing support.


©2013-2017 All Rights Reserved.  Arvin da Brgha.

Posted in 20th Century American art, 20th century American artists, 20th Century Art, 20th Century Artists, 20th century Canadian art, 20th century Canadian artists, Actors, African-Americans, American Artists, Americans, Archetypes in dreams, Art, Art Collecting, Art Collection, Artists, Astral plane habitué, Astral Projection in Dreams, Authors, Award-winning artist, Black American Art, Black Americans, Black Art, Black artists, Black creative artists, Books, Canadian art, Canadian artists, Chakras, channelling, Creative Genius, Crystals, Dance, Dance dreams, Dancers, Diarists, Dreams, Dreams of famous persons, Dreams of Merlin, Dreams of Task Companion, Essence Contact in Dreams, Film, First Nations Artists, Flying dreams, Gay Artists, Jazz, Literature, Magical Realism, Mature souls, Memoirs, Michael Overleaves, Michael Teachings, Music, Musicians, OBEs, OBEs in dreams, Old souls, Out-of-Body Experiences, Painters, Past-life dreams, Pianists, Printmakers, Reincarnation, Shamanism, Singers, Songwriters, Spirituality, Stage performers, Visionaries, Visual Artists, West Indian Artists, Writers, Young souls | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment