Bust of HRH Prince Charles, The Prince of Wales, sculptor Frances Segelman & HRH Prince Charles, The Prince of Wales.
Just as when first discovering Lucian Freud’s and Jonathan Yeo’s works, I was greatly moved on discovering sculptor, Frances Segelman and her masterful work. Pure creative genius. The bust was recently presented on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the Prince’s Trust, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales’ successful charity.
A couple of years ago, I had the most rhapsodic flying dream which had me in low flight through St. James’ Park. Once on the edge of the park, I alighted and began crossing a very deserted Mall towards the entrance road to Clarence House and St. James’ Palace beyond.
There, where the road joins the Mall was the largest statue, it was of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II riding a great steed. Without a doubt, on having seen this bust, the statue had been created by Ms. Segelman – at least in this probable future… one in which, at that point, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales was HM, King Charles III.
There was so much grandeur and elegance to the lines of the sculpture. The horse was on its hind legs, though not fully rearing, Her Majesty sat confidently sidesaddle whilst serenely looking down at the throngs and not the least bit thrown by the steed’s action.
Though tuning in to a probable reality, it would be great to have a statue to honour HM, Queen Elizabeth II by the masterful, Frances Segelman.
Until such time as the probable become reality, God Save The Queen!
This fragment was a fifth level mature warrior – 4th life thereat. Lena was in the power mode with a goal of unmitigated growth. She was a sceptic who was in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Lena’s primary chief feature was exalted arrogance with a secondary chief feature of stubbornness.
Lena’s casting is in the second position of the second cadence in the seventh greater cadence. She is a member of entity six, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414 – another entity mate.
Lena’s was a Saturn/Venus body type.
Essence twin for Lena is a warrior and her king task companion did exert some influence.
The three primary needs for Lena were: expression, power and exchange.
There are 10 past-life associations between Lena and Arvin whilst there are 7 past-life associations with Merlin.
____________________________________________
Back in Spring, 1994, I was standing in my West End, Vancouver bedroom getting dressed – after having made dinner for Bower Carlyle-St. Clare and me. At the time, he was recently full-blown with AIDS but doing well. As he sat out in the living room in the rocking chair which had been Merlin’s favourite piece of furniture, I was busily getting ready to head off to work on the midnight shift.
Just then Ross Porter, who was gigging on the CBC’s late-night Jazz show, began introducing a recently released album. I screamed and rushed out to the living room, turned up the sound to full blast and directly stood in the centre of the perfectly placed speakers.
Said Ross Porter, it was a new album by Lena Horne – a cut of which he was nicely setting up. Since as long as I could remember, this woman’s every performance always made me feel good throughout. The opening of the song, Do Nothing ‘Till You Hear from Me, began with the bass working its magic.
For the next several minutes, I stood there flying-without-moving. Admiringly, Bower sat there silently drinking in the visual of me as I stood in black stretch jeans tucked into riding boots and nothing else with hair long and out.
with lids closed, I drank every note of the performance; I was truly besotted. Then the song got really groovy and at one point, just past the four-minute mark, simultaneous with Lena Horne, I let out the exact same whoop as she did. Stunned, I placed my hands at my mouth and threw open my eyes.
Bower was convinced that I had heard the recording before. Soon enough, Lena Horne’s album, We’ll Be Together Again, was blasting my West End apartment on a daily basis. One day, Bower called up and declared that we were going to New York – he had never been.
To hell with work, he had declared as I tried begging off. Not having it, Bower shot back that he was taking me to New York City because I knew it and always spoke so fondly of my time there.
Early October rolled around and we held up at the Hotel Chelsea – he had booked the suite as he knew that it was Merlin’s favourite place to stay in New York City. We went to the show and although, he had been hoping to see Diana Ross – chiefly why he wanted to go to New York City, we ended up having a blast at the performance way up in the balcony. The next day, I stood around in Times Square and scored us tickets to, Kiss of the Spider Woman, at the Broadhurst Theatre.
A couple of days later and we were returned to Vancouver as giddy as two kids who had just had the wildest adventure. Sadly, for being full-blown, Bower developed a nagging cough which dragged on for long weeks; nonetheless, it was a magical adventure and I was especially grateful that he had made possible, the trip to see Lena Horne in concert at Carnegie Hall.
As Diana Ross was his favourite performer, every film of hers he had taped. He understood my love of Lena Horne when finally, he took the time to appreciate her performance in, The Wiz – directed by her partner Sidney Lumet.
Back in 1978, when seeing, The Wiz, on its opening weekend with Owen Hawksmoor – a man of truly equine proportions – This brief appearance and performance by Lena Horne made the film for me; everyone else paled by comparison.
Back in 1969, whilst vacationing in St. Croix, U. S. Virgin Islands, one briny Friday evening the 1943 film, Stormy Weather, was on television. This was my first introduction to Lena Horne. I was thoroughly captivated by her.
My response to her has always been visceral; she is energising, captivating – her eyes both raptor-like and thoroughly empowering to lock on to. If there was no essence bond, it is highly improbable that I would have such an intensely visceral response to her.
I then found it hard to sleep that night after the film. Not surprisingly, in light of our essence bond as entity mates, I did that night dream of her. Furthermore, I have noticed that the passing of entity and cadre mates leaves me especially splayed – I don’t feel impending doom, I just feel as though a portal has opened up and I could drift off and find myself on the other side… an astral plane habitué.
I think that because of my casting’s cardinality, I tend to act as a beacon – somehow, I tend to sense when cadre mates are on the cusp of departing. This used to be fairly frightening when younger; now, I have learnt to simply give of self and realise that someone in the fold is moving on.
The fragment who is most commonly known simply as Prince has also had an illustrious past as a performing artist. However, his first life in the music world was as one of the many children of Johann and Barbara Bach.
This child was female and did not become a musician but was surrounded by the musical life. She was particularly close to her brother, Carl Philipp Emanuel, and this started the fragment’s interest in music as a vehicle through which one could perform.
Although this fragment has enjoyed many stellar performances as an actor, a dancer and a singer of opera, it is this fragment’s immediate past life that is most pivotal to his current endeavours.
As the composer/pianist Scott Joplin, this fragment popularised ragtime as an art form that did not have its foundations in European music and was uniquely American.
Prince is a fifth level mature sage in the passion mode, with a goal of rejection, mostly functioning in the positive pole of discrimination, a sceptic in the moving part of emotional centre.
He has a Mercury/Saturn body type.
Prince’s primary chief feature is that of impatience, with a strong secondary of arrogance.
He was sixth-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fifth in the greater cadence. He is a member of entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 43, pod/node 414.
Davis III, Miles Dewey 26/5/26 <0> 28/9/91 Tiger 8.4.4 = 7
_________________________________________________
I am so looking forward to the opening of Don Cheadle’s Miles Ahead this week. i think of any other Jazz artist, Miles is the only one whose every album, on listening to it, I conclude is a favourite. This creative genius just oozed authenticity. Of course, a major part of his outréness and originality had to do with his having been an actual old soul.
I have always been partial to him as he was briefly married to Cicely Tyson who was a maternal first cousin of my late mother’s who in her youth did play the cornet. Of course, Cicely Tyson, who is still going strong and currently starring on Broadway, is an entity mate of Miles Davis’.
My creatively gifted mother whose songs are published in the hymnal of the now Wesleyan Church was a remarkable woman who was pure intellect and a source of fierce pride. She whose paternal grandparents were Sephardi from the small Brazilian community which settled in Nevis. Indeed, she who is now reincarnated in London, England, male and first-born and about whom I have dreamt – East Indian/Caucasian heritage in this lifetime and currently aged 13 years old.
Sadly, none of my dream encounters with Miles Davis were ever audiocassette-recorded as they were never had during the decade when I did so – 1989 to 1998. Each of those dream encounters did, though, validate his agedness of spirit and he seemed every bit an old soul during astral plane encounters.
In anticipation of this long overdue film – imagine that, the paucity of Jazz biopics when so clearly Jazz is rooted in Klezmer! More than that, on to the matter of saluting a true original, a true creative genius and a giant of Black high art.
*Sadly, I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to track down the title of the Miles Davis painting herein featured; alas, to no avail have I managed to have discovered its title et al.
________________________________
Birth of the Cool, 1957.
Kind of Blue 1959.
– This is the music (Kind of Blue) I am mostly likely to listen to, after having audiocassette-recorded the dreams, on awaking from a flying dream. This music is about finding centre whilst simultaneously remaining aloft in the realms of the flying dream. As West Indians would say, it’s sweet!
As it is Jazz appreciation month, here’s to one of the most glorious elixirs that each time setting foot in my home – after experiencing racial animus in it myriad manifestations – takes me higher. Jazz is that one language, indeed, the only idiom capable of absolving the bile of being subjected to the ugliness that is the racial predator’s birthright.
Of course, like all addicts: drunks, crackheads, sexual predators – the racial predator does not self-identify and, like all addicts, is ever in denial and will angrily maintain his right to deny that there is a problem. So, since the racial predator does not exist; yet, for those of us for whom the racial predator is as real as the drunk, why wait for these marvellous boors to self-identify? There is power in labelling a problem for what it is and until one has a name for a malaise of spirit, one has no power because the well-armed and socio-economic top-baboon will always laugh his vacuous skull off whilst alleging one is crazy for stating there is a problem when there is not even a name for this non-existent problematic entity and speciously imaginary the racial predator.
Naturally, the one addiction – without fail – of the racial predator is ever his obsession with the culture of the prey he so loves feasting on. The most powerful word for the racial predator when dealing with Blacks is ‘NO’ in all its manifestations… and then, of course, you expect us to come home and settle for your apeing the culture because well… you can like that authentic-sounding sonic bleed-through from that queer parallel universe where Jazz allegedly has its roots in Klezmer… NO! Life is about callously being unpromising in one’s truth… and as has been oft declared – if you can’t sing Strange Fruit sorry, not having it.
This music is a testament to the spirit of a people who, despite the racial predator’s obsessive addiction, remains free, beautiful and ever soaring higher… Goodness, how could you ever fathom the depth and beauty of this music when you remain incapable of accepting and embracing our humanity…. your humanity?
John Coltrane’s Michael Overleaves to follow… breathe.
If only I had begun audiocassette-recording the dreams on awaking prior to February 1989. In mid-1987, I had the most lucidly awakened dream encounter with the artist, Lucian Freud. I had been in a flying dream and instinctively knew that I was in London. On alighting, I moved through a woodsy artist studio and found there the artist himself.
To better absorb his process, I had rendered myself invisible and remained in a corner whilst onlooking. Without a doubt, I had dreamquested to a session for which both men – the subjects of this canvas – sat for this painting. Of course, at the time, I was then a muse and lover to master printmaker and painter, George Hawken. This was an immensely fulfilling time in my life; it was also rather adventurous as I was then quite happily ensconced in my relationship with Merlin.
Suspecting that he was ill with AIDS, Merlin had long canned our physical relationship. Since I was in my 20s and one of my three primary needs is adventure, I most unashamedly roamed and salaciously ploughed the town. Along with Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud’s masterful work has always fascinated me. Not surprised then was I to have recently discovered that the trigger for that 1987 dream was the fact that we are entity mates.
Here’s to you and as ever sweet dreams and thanks for your ongoing support.
In celebration of every woman everywhere who has ever lived, loved and nurtured human civilisation to its fullest potentials, I salute you. The best is yet to come. Gender Equality in this century… and nothing less.
Here’s to Maria Callas – truly, a woman in full. Her Michael Overleaves to follow plus a dream in which she is featured, though, previously posted herein on this blog is linked again. Incidentally, I have since learnt that Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was/is a Sage rather than King soul. No wonder she was truly overwhelmed by Maria Callas in the dream; indeed, no young soul sage would be a match for an old soul king.
Just as powerful as Michael Jackson releasing “Remember The Time” during Black History Month in 1992 so, too, Beyoncé slays by dropping Formation during Black History Month and on Bob Nesta Marley’s birthday no less. Love it… Love her!
Happy Black History Month! Who cares about the Oscars? The most important point of power in all situations is being able to see through to the structure of anything. Those who cannot manipulate real time events to show themselves, chosen, entitled, special, ‘genius’ and all that nonsense will ever cheat, lie and steal. Please do tell in in what other universe would there be a tie between Katherine Hepburn and Barbra Streisand for Best Actress but in this one where the most venal racists run the show and everyone looks like another variation on Jackie ‘blasted god-fugly’ Stallone.
Go on, give each other awards; what does it finally matter when you know nothing of being cool and sophisticated as in those whom you so revile, vilify, loathe, incite others to hate – all the while crying of being victimised. You know… those marvellous people whose spirit you will never crush, despite the attempts of Orly Taitz and the returned de Torquemada – now no less fugly got up in reincarnational drag – Jackson, Woods and Cosby and you just know that the swine has only just begun. They, those marvellous people, who like dreams – wherein only truth and beauty exist – are the ones to have invented Jazz and whose spirit will never be eclipsed by your god-fugly ugliness. Yes, them… they who don’t need awards to show how special, chosen and what marvellous geniuses one so over-compensatorily is not!
Alas, for the truly marvellous people every day of the year is awards season; despite your alarming ugliness, you have positively no power over any of us when we set feet into our homes. There, despite your lunacy, we affirm our creaturehood, our beauty or phenomenalness and we turn on some Jazz which can speak to no one else as it speaks to every last one of us – not you! So while you infest the culture, like some fetid mould – which thankfully are never lasting – just know that the ugliness of your lies can in no way invalidate the beauty of Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Betty Carter, Lena Horne, Anita Baker, Sarah Vaughan, Diana Ross, Natalie Cole… and countless others.
So go on and speciously raise your rear right leg and take to the airwaves claiming, “Jazz has its roots in Klezmer!” Just remember this: forgiveness is the price a damn fool would gladly pay to forget anything. Clearly, you do not know Black people and come November, we won’t collectively have taken leave of senses and do as you would wish… not after Orly… Who cares about the Oscar vote? Our vote is the one that truly matters… Remember eight years ago… “I’m Voting For Her!” We do not forget… where is that displaced haus frau anyway? You know, the one who was partout on TV demanding that the unchosen sheeple, “Vote For Hillary!” followed by that demented laugh of hers… perhaps, she is too distracted these days trying to recall with which hand she ate last night.
Truly empowered are they who always say what the fuck they mean and never leave any doubt as to their resolve.
Incidentally, all the Jazz artists mentioned in this blog, I have to date done their Michael Overleaves. Some are listed in the Michael Overleaves Appendix page those which aren’t were only recently channelled; they are… Natalie Cole, Anita Baker and Lena Horne. Not in the least surprised was I to have found that Natalie Cole is an entity mate. Every time I hear her voice, I am instantaneously catapulted to a groove that I can only call a soul high… So then here are her Michael Overleaves with one of my favourite video performances of hers. Every idiosyncrasy of hers resonates to the very core of my being… God she could represent!
________________________________
*Richard is New York City academician whom Merlin met during the final couple of years of his life. This man had the most uncanny resemblance energetically to Merlin and I only met him a week after Merlin’s passing as he ventured to Toronto; he had previously planned to, to bid Merlin farewell. Alas, unlike Joe Morton who flew in from Los Angeles for 24 hours to be with Merlin, Richard had been too late but came nonetheless; the gesture was truly noble of spirit and was greatly appreciated.
Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul. 