Dolphin House Pets and Glimmers of El Greco’s Muse (Redux)

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On the cusp of the Art Gallery of Ontario’s Georgia O’Keeffe Exhibition opening this month, I am repost this blog.  Do please enjoy.  

Whilst the Moon transited both Libra and my fifth house, these next dreams occurred on October 1, 1989.  Too, it was the seventh anniversary of that magical, and a bit cool, Friday evening in Hell’s Kitchen when Merlin and I would meet… yet again. 

Of course, at the time, he was rather ill with full-blown AIDS and horribly suffering from Candida.  However, as I have known more than 200 persons to have passed of AIDS, Merlin’s AIDS-related illnesses were mild manifestations of what can eventualise with AIDS.  I have always been grateful for that. 

These dreams – one a touchstone dream with Olaf Gamst’s old-souled son as he was during a life when he was an assistant, muse and lover of El Greco’s, the other a dream set remotely in the past on this planet or possibly on another world where the indigenous folks were decidedly extra-human though Sol III human-looking enough – were welcome inspiration. 

Too, the dreams were dreamt during the second sleep cycle that day.  Back then, I took naps as often as I could afford.  Merlin fainted several times each day and the sheer gravity of what we moved through was exhausting at times.  As he would have it, no one knew that Merlin fainted multiple times daily. 

At the time of these dreams, I had taken to the pyramid to meditate with crystals and eventually ended up privately crying at the share stark finality of what imminently loomed on the horizon.  Thus, sleep was a welcome refocussing of my energies – if only briefly.  Of course, sleep and its elixir, dreams, ever kept me focussed, inspired and aware of the macroscopic. 

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In this the first dream, I see Eleanor Bissell – my Canadian-History and English teacher at Harbord Collegiate Institute; she was doing some gardening in a blue dress that was floral-printed.  This garden had tall old trees in it.  There were hydrangea plants – large ones at that.

I went over and I greeted her and said, “Hello, Mrs. Bissell.”

I told her who I was and she had on her glasses and her breath was short.  She was just the same as when I knew her in the waking state.

This dream, the second, was set in another time and another place.  I was captured by this man in a castle-like dwelling.  A very Moorish setting, like in Spain, it was; it was not Moorish architecture like in Northern Africa but it was more so in southern Spain.  Perhaps, it was Andalusia or thereabouts.

It was brown stone which had been burnt by the Sun for years and years, tens of millennia, as a matter of fact.  I got captured and I was taken back into a room with a man; he was saying to me, “Of course you’re mine.  You’re 63%!”

This percentile was supposed to signify, if you like, being bad or evil.

He was describing things to me because he was the epitome of what one would consider evil.  I was saying, “No I’m not.”

I was saying that I didn’t want to be there and wanted to be let out.

The thing is, it was not me; rather, I was the son and he was a bronzed person; he was very swarthy but not Black.  I was his offspring; I was, in fact, his son.  Then some people came in and they were all there and I asked if I could get out with them.  They, however, said no that I couldn’t because they were alright.

They said that they were all 50% and that I was not.  I supposedly had to be 50% and therefore, as I was his son, I had to stay there with him.  I was really upset and somehow I managed to be stealthily taken away during the night, after the father left, by a woman.

She wore long flowing garb and she was again very Mediterranean or Middle Eastern-looking.  She had long limbs and café au lait complexion.  She told me how it all went that I was her son, by the same man, and that she was one of his many lovers.

However, he was never supposed to have a child by her; as a result, when she became pregnant because he so loved her, he broke with tradition and he had her put up in this particular part of the castle.

It was really fortified and very abandoned-looking but she held out there.  Nobody ever came to this part of the castle and it was very terraced and had a lot of inner walls in it.

The walls here were of a slight sandy colour and we were alone at nighttime.  As we were talking, there was battle going on behind us over in another part of the castle; the battle occurred in another part of the fortified town that supported the castle.

There were a lot of cries because there was battle going on.  You could hear a lot of horses neighing and cantering, as in the Crusades, if you like.  I don’t, however, recall having heard any gunfire.

She was telling me not to worry because he would never harm me.  Said she, I was quite well protected.  He did love me in spite of his cruelty and there was no way that he could hurt me because she was fiercely protective of me.

If he had done anything to me, she would be forced to expose him and he knew and feared that eventuality.  She told me to just go on outside and play.  So, I went out into the yard and it was a wonderful elaborate garden – very organic.

It had this pool and there inside were dolphins.  I went in to play with them.  It was a muddied pool but very large like a manmade lake.  They were playing with me as I frolicked in the water with them.

One of them had its fluke pressing down on my bum from above me.  Whilst sandwiched between them under the surface the other used it nose to push up against my breastbone and solar plexus; thus, they propelled me through the water at great exhilarating speeds.

It was a beautiful sense of motion because, of course, they travelled quite fast and they always stayed clear of going out too far.  There was a point at which they had jokingly made a fast turn and I hadn’t caught up.

So I went to stand up and it turned out that it was a very large pool and a rather deep, deep pool.  I panicked when I broke surface and they assisted me back to the shallow area.

When I came back indoors both the father and mother were there now – the swarthy humans, that is.  I said to them that there was something here in the pool a big opening, you could feel it.

I also sensed it from the dolphins as being something in the pool that they themselves feared.  The father figure was laughing and told me not to worry about that because he knew, of course, what it was.  The mother had remained quite silent and looked at me, all the time, because she was slightly to his left and behind him as he spoke.

All three of us were next in a room in the castle and, somehow, the dolphins were here as well.  There was a break in the floor, a wide open hole, and they came up and were swimming and churning up the same muddied-looking dark water.

A man then entered who looked like and was, in fact, the American actor who starred in the film, Paris, Texas.  I think that the actor’s name is, Harry Dean Stanton, but I am not certain of that; he is a scrawny, hard-faced, thin-lipped man.

He came in and had a gun and said, “I want to get paid.  I’m doing work in this building and I’m not getting paid.  I’m tired of being held up here.  Deliver!  Or else I’m going to take you out and shoot you.”

It was an interesting-looking silver gun.  I was standing up on a cabinet and he went to shoot me but I knew that he wouldn’t shoot me.  He had, in fact, turned the pistol so that the two shots rang off to my right.

What surprisingly came out, when he fired the shots, was water; however, it had light in it.  It was like lasered water and it shot out in a large chunky jet and went almost instantaneously to the wall and crashed there.

He shot rounds of it and both parents remained absolutely icy cool; they paid him very little mind.  Later on, the mother telepathically told me not to worry because he couldn’t harm me; too, she telepathically shared that I was not to move and give in to fear.  I was not to show any signs of panic.

*This was clearly a civilisation which was set here on Earth long millennia before the current ape-central, fear-ruled madness we now know.  This was a time long ago in human history when there was contact between both humans and cetaceans.  Telepathy was de rigueur; too, psychic abilities were more evolved then.

Perhaps, this was an Atlantean society or some other civilisation which predated the Atlantean.  The persons were seemingly of Mediterranean extraction and it was, however, definitely not Egyptian.

I would guess that it was post-Egyptian – the latter having occurred easily more than 60 thousand years ago; although, Europeans in their racist elitism – never having had anything to rival pyramids in Europe – reworked the agedness of Egyptian civilisation to their ends.

**I am now left to believe that this was in some way an Extra-Human civilisation where the humans closely resembled Earthly humans.  They were, however, swarthier and were archly telepathic.

Too, their foreheads were also considerably higher and had a slight concave look at the top.  Dolphins, it seems, were kept as indoor pets – just as cats and dogs are for humans.  Hence, there was the watering hole, which led to a vast underground network, where the animals could come and go from the fortified castle to the ocean, however far off.  END.

Almost instantaneously, in this the third dream, I was in another scene; it was one in which I was playing and my companion was Lars Gamst.  We were drawing, in fact, we were painting.

Lars said to the same actor, Harry Dean Stanton, who was now with me in this new dream – both the parents, incidentally, were no longer about.  Lars wanted the actor to assist him by editing.

The guy misunderstood him and didn’t know what was what.  What Lars was doing was covering the painting with a black wax and, later, he was then going to strip it off.  So he needed the actor to go and get the chemicals and equipment to go and strip off the wax.

He was somewhat impatient that the guy was so stupid and didn’t understand; Lars had had to spell out what he wanted.  I was trying to explain to the guy what to do and what Lars meant, as well as, the process involved.

When he did go away to get the things, I came over and approached Lars and assisted him in the painting of the work that he was doing.

*A rather insightful dream this one and the energies with Lars were, as ever, pleasant and sublime.  I find this a rather telling dream too because, in later years, on having Lars’s Michael Overleaves charted, I would learn that not only is he an old soul – first level old slave and entity mate to his equally old-souled father (Olaf Gamst) and sixth cast artisan like myself but he was the favoured muse of Doménicos (El Greco) Theotokópoulos and his chief assistant.

Naturally, for Lars to be so immersed creatively in a painterly fashion – in the dreamtime – was truly about revisiting a skill and time in the past which brought him great fulfillment both spiritually and creatively.  This was so clearly an astral plane encounter between us.

Being in Lars’s presence was quite expansive; you could actually feel his soul being deeply creative.  So fully dilated were his pupils, Lars’s eyes were almost pure black.  He was terribly eccentric and clearly there was much bleed-through from his having been greatly inspired in that lifetime by El Greco.  He worked feverishly with great attack.

He quite appreciated the fact that I was not a dolt and could be of able assistance to him.  This was such an astral plane encounter that it was as real and connected as that time we rode the subway together and the connectedness we shared blew my mind.

Incidentally, in that sixteenth century lifetime, Lars was much younger than the great artist and they did have a passionate relationship.  I have a distinct impression that there was a bleed through of what Lars looked like, in that lifetime, as his features were not as they are now; he was more Latin and darker, strong-nosed.

It was an aquiline nose.  Too, he was robust-energied and had massive hands like those of a sculptor’s.  Terribly expressive and passionate, too, were his hands.  END.

I was on the phone whilst speaking with Owen Hawksmoor, in this the fourth dream, and I could see about his apartment as we spoke.  I was calling him because I wanted to get laid and I was really raunchy and stir-crazy but he was not up to it.  I start calling him on it and I told him, “Oh yeah, why don’t you get up and go to the bathroom?  And drop your teeth in the glass of water, on your way, before you come back?”

In a very sarcastic manner, I had laced into him to which he responded by being coolly dismissive of me by broadly laughing at my desperation.

Somehow, Pandora da Braga was part of this dream and she had an awareness of my play for Owen and my resultant rejection.

*Featured art:  Santiago el mayor by El Greco.  At the time of the dream, Lars appeared as he did in a past life; his was a strong aquiline nose in the dream.  This look features prominently in many of El Greco’s works.  In that past life, Lars was a favoured muse, assistant and lover of El Greco’s who was in a recent incarnation the sublime American artist, Georgia O’Keeffe. 

As Lars is a slave soul, the look of St. Francis and also the look of Christ carrying the cross are those of a slave soul; at least that’s my impression.  Since, Christ was a seventh level king soul on his last life, the El Greco Christ of the aquiline nose is decidedly not a king soul and more so a slave with priestly airs.  Perhaps, this is how Lars looked then. 

What I also love about this particular El Greco painting is that the green draping proves an evocative prelude of things to come, as it were, with regards Georgia O’Keeffe’s sublimely sexualised flower paintings. 

For that matter, I love how Georgia O’Keeffe’s sensual masterpiece, Jack in the pulpit No. IV is a reanimation of El Greco’s Christ on the cross which is in the National Museum of Western Art, Tokyo, Japan.  END.  

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Art:  Santiago el Mayor

Oil on Canvas

97 x 77 cm

1610 El Greco

Provenance: Museo del Greco

Christ on the Cross

Oil on Canvas

95.5 x 61 cm

1600 El Greco

Provenance: National Museum of Western Art, Tokyo, Japan

Jack in the Pulpit IV

Oil on Canvas

40 x 30 Inches

1930 Georgia O’Keeffe

Provenance: National Gallery of Art, Washington D. C.

Grey Lines with Black, Blue and Yellow

Oil on Canvas

48 x 30 Inches

© 1923 Georgia O’Keeffe

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© 2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.  

Hey, not so fast Corky!

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Exactly one year later, after those momentous dreams wherein Merlin imparted me his sword of empowerment, I would have dreams of uplifting grandeur.  These ones, however, were of a vastly different thematic nature.

These dreams involved travels in consciousness which took me to another world.  This dream further validates how lucky were Merlin and I to have found each other in this world.  Indeed, how lucky are all lovers to find each other anywhere in the vast expanse of the cosmos.

The dream occurred, on Monday, September 9, 1989, while the Moon then transcended both Libra and my fifth house.

I get onto an airplane that I thought was a Boeing 737 – it seemed narrow-bodied like one.  It had two seats on either side of the aisle which was, unusually so, very wide.

The aisle was lower than the platforms on which the seats sat.  The windows of this craft were quite large.

There was a White woman down the aisle who was going on and on about having lost her luggage.  On closer inspection, she seemed more High-Yellow than White.

She also had the same unusually long torso as the man of a couple of dreams back.  There was a flight attendant wearing white and he was obviously impatient with her.

When I looked out the window, I thought that I was looking towards the front of the aircraft.  Then the flight attendant said to everyone who was standing, me included,

“Will you please take your seats, the aircraft is moving.”

I hurried to take my seat but noticed that the seats were facing in the opposite direction to what I had assumed was the front of the craft.

I was close to the front, at a window seat, with Pandora also at a window seat in the row behind me.  There was a window for every seat.

There was a large space by the large open area, which had no seats in it, up ahead.  The entire spacecraft’s interior was silver-grey.  There was a bath cabin-like area and the lines inside this craft were very smooth and round… seamless.

Everything blended, everything melded into each other.  There were large doors that led to the area ahead of what I thought was the cockpit.  However, it was an unusually large door which sat at the end of the wide aisle.

Then I thought to myself,

‘But why isn’t the plane moving?’

However, when I looked outside, I saw that the landscape had low trees like at most airports.  I also noticed that the wing was rather low, in fact, way down the fuselage.

Closer inspection revealed that the craft had three wings in all.  They were not very long wings, though very wide, preventing you from looking down to the ground below when aloft.  Your only view was distant and above.

I looked off and saw the tarmac where there was an aircraft.  It was moving so slowly that I thought that it was coming to a halt before throttling up and then barrelling down the runway to take off.

However, this was the speed at which the aircraft was moving owing to the perspective of the flight that we were on.  We were going south – I intuitively knew as much.

I assumed that since I was with Pandora that we were going back to Paris to investigate her lost luggage.  Perhaps, I thought, we were going south down to St. Croix… just taking a trip.  It was rather an unusual craft.

I did then look out of the aircraft after the male attendant, now wearing a blue jacket, had had a spat with the High-Yellow argumentative woman – she still hadn’t yet taken a seat.

The window had arched up to the ceiling of the craft thus I could hardly see where the male attendant had gone to.  Obstructing a direct view of the entire cabin, the walls of the craft were round.

He also had an extra-long torso and wore greyish, off-white pants.  Come to think of it, he was not audibly speaking – it was all telepathic such that telepathy was the in-flight PA system mode.

I thought it unusual that, here we were, the plane was ascending with clouds drifting past yet at no point had there been any sensation of motion.  Nonetheless, the land was tilted way below dropping back rapidly with these heavy-looking wintry clouds cutting past us.

I thought that this was most unusual.  There was also no flight attendant giving us instructions.  Then I thought,

‘My god I’m not even wearing my seatbelts.’

I then quickly buckled up, the cream-coloured seatbelts, further settling into the large black seat.  Next, a female flight instructor came and instructed everyone on how to use the seatbelts as these were very complicated ones.

It had two sets of buckles which you had to put in at the top.  When you did so, it seemed like it was locked but it wasn’t.

You had to press down really hard, three times, before it would finally snap into place.  The number of presses actually was part of its locking code.

I did as she was doing and, sure enough, it snapped into place.  On the underside of the buckle there was another lock system.  It was that one which you had to rotate clockwise and at that point you were then locked in.

This safety belt system also, I noticed, had straps that went between the legs.  I was concerned because I thought that if we were to impact I wouldn’t fare very well – my seatbelt was quite loose.

Too, it was then when I noticed that the seatbelt just did not go around the waist – it also went and strapped into the seat between the legs so that you couldn’t get up during flight.

As she was talking, I also noticed that the underside of the belt was cream with red horizontal stripes.  She was describing things and that’s when I clued in again that, like the male attendant, she was also not speaking aloud.

What she was saying was being telepathically shared… most unusual.  Truth be told, this was most unusual.

Next, when again I did look out the window, I saw that down to my right were all these stars.  Against the very unusual blackness of space outside, the stars were visible yet it wasn’t nighttime when we took off.

In a sea of reddish-pink light that turned to purple, millions and millions of stars there were.  In certain places, this light was mauve rather than pink or purple.

It had a shadow to it and it turned out to look exactly like the horse head nebula, Barnard 33, in the star system we refer to as the Orion constellation.  You could clearly distinguish the neck and the head of a horse.

It was then that it occurred to me that that was what the Orion nebula looked like.  I was passing over a nebula!

I took my Chinese-motif-covered, dream diary book, from the waking state, and placed it up towards the window.  I was looking up into the sky, thinking that maybe I would see the Moon there, seeing that we had now cleared the clouds.  It had all of a sudden gotten very dark out.

Here again, I saw different star constellations than those with which one is normally familiar.  I knew, then and there, that this was not a Boeing 737.

At that, I looked back to the woman whose look suggested that she knew then that I had realised what was going on.

In one cluster of the cloud-like nebula, in the northeastern sector of it, there was a large, large cluster of stars that were encircled.  They were circled such that they seemed, en masse, to be like a ringed planet.

This unique ‘world of stars’ was silhouetted against the deep, rich blackness of deep space.  It was like a ringed planet but was really a cluster of stars – a galaxy.  Then I thought excitedly,

‘Whoa what’s going on here?’

Here we were and I was thinking that we were travelling so slowly such that I had even grown fearful for the aircraft.  I was thinking that we were moving much too slowly and that we would never make it on time.  I had even been saying as much to Pandora.

However, when I looked out the aircraft again, we were still rising.  Now we were passing over a wintry intersection.  You could even hear the cars outside as they drove through the intersection.

We were very unusually low and I thought,

‘This plane is not rising fast enough.  I’m not hearing engines.  What’s going on?’

Then as we were going, we were still rising but were now coming into a developed area that was like a housing project.  It had townhouses that were unusually high-ceilinged.

I thought that we were going to have to go upwards or we were not going to make it.  I got somewhat frantic.  However, the craft soon landed without incident.

There was a guy outside the craft who was clearly a local.  He was White and exceptionally blond.  He looked distinctly Polish.

He had an unusually long torso and short legs – not just short comparable to his extra-long torso but even squat as compared to the legs of a normal six-foot tall human male.

He approached us and said that he could take us where we were headed.  He insisted that he could do it real fast, as it were, faster than this old thing.

Of course, he was referring by ‘old thing’ to our craft that had just crossed deep space at light speeds.  I realised, at that point, that what had happened was that I had left Earth and had travelled into interstellar space.

So when I was seeing that intersection with snow on the ground and cars, and so on, it was not Earth but another planet altogether.  Then there overhead passed a plane.

It was like the one that we had just travelled interstellar space in, with the three wings, except that it wasn’t a plane.  It was like the fuselage of a plane that had been sliced in half, sealed, covered and made into a little shuttle vehicle.

The craft moved quite slowly and silently through the sky.  It was the same greyish colour as the one that I had arrived in.  I thought,

‘Indeed, we’re really not in Kansas anymore…’

I remember at that point that Isadore da Braga and Angelica Ponce-da Braga, his wife, had gone to Montréal.  I thought that, by now, they would definitely have gotten there before we would.

We were waiting because this was a stopover.  It really wasn’t our destination.  The guy was being really insistent saying to Pandora,

“Come on, I can get you there in no time at all.  In fact, you can get there in time.”

From the way he enunciated time, I knew that he meant that he had the capacity to fold space and time.  In that way, he could get us to our destination on time.

He was confident that he could do so and even faster than if we had gone there directly by conventional Earthly means.  I interjected by politely declining.  I let him know that we would rather wait… it was quite okay,

“Please, just leave us alone.  We’re really not interested.  Pandora just wants her luggage.”

I turned to her and added,

“Let’s just hurry up and get out of this place.”

We were walking down this ramp where the plane-cum-EHV (extra-human vehicle), that we had arrived on, was obviously inside the terminal that he had motioned to.  The flight attendants were in the terminal and were waiting for us to be refuelled before moving on.

The local guy then came around again.  This time, however, he launched into a verbal attack,

“You’re stupid.  You’re not coming with me and you’re insulting me.  Come on, you have to go with me.”

He then directly went across, away from me, as though if I were to approach he would attack.  However, he was moving as though in slow-motion.  Looking at him I thought,

“Oh god he’s going to come up and try to kick me.”

I could actually see it being played out – that is, the probability of this.  Seeing the scenario being played out, at one point, I was going to kick him in the balls or something.

Though when he went to do it, since he was moving in slow-motion, I quite quickly – not being native to his local physio-molecular astrophysics – moved out of the way.  As a result, he landed hard on the ground.

It was too bad for him that I was, for being extra-human on his world, possessed of super-swift ambulatory skills that outmatched his.  I then went and grabbed him.

With that, I spun his body around on itself – his body was able to fully spin around on itself because of the extra vertebrae spine.  Sure enough, he became corkscrewed.

I took his head and started banging it into the ground.  Soon, his face got bloody.  His unusually turned up, little retroussé nose got bloody.

*Though I find the retroussé look most unappealing, on this EH it was truly hideous.  It was not a nose like Earthly humans’ when retrousséd.

Though his eyes were not fear-based, however, the look of the archly retrousséd nose gave an almost frightful and even austere look to him and his EH kind.  They were not necessarily violent an extra-human species either.

There was no way of knowing, for another thing, whether for looking like a twenty-something Earthly human that he was not a centuries-old, extra-human local.  END.

I thought then, ‘My goodness, here I am in alien territory and I have committed a crime.  This may be an offence worthy of being sentenced to death.’

I knew that I had overstepped some diplomatic lines.  Immediately, we had to re-board the spacefaring craft and get out of there.

I grabbed Pandora and we began heading towards the spacecraft, at which point, holding her hand I willed myself awake – my intentions were to spirit us both out of there.

*The slowness and sweetness of moving in this spacefaring craft was incredible.  Being in interstellar space and seeing Orion’s horse head nebula was captivating.

The colours were very beautiful.  As these colours represented the explosion and birth of multiple billions of stars, they were intense beyond imagination.

You really had a sense of the liquid blackness of space – the cold starkness of it.  It was quite nice.  It was like moving through a very slow-moving, liquid dimensional sea.

I would like to add that when I awoke, more than two hours after I had fallen asleep, I still laid on my back.  All the crystals were still in place as they were when I fell asleep.

This is most unusual, for two hours of sleep.

Also, when I awoke, I was aware of my body being there… still and motionless.  I then had the sensation of starting to breathe again.

The sensation of breathing was one of discovery.  It was an exciting event.

To feel my body expanding and contracting with each breath inhaled and exhaled, it proved an excitingly interesting discover.  On awakening, it was quite simply one of the most thrilling moments of my life.

I had been so under, so deeply submerged up past the moist wet folds of sleep’s embrace, that my body had simply shut down to a shallow breath every now and again.

I had been cetaceous, in that sense, during the course of the two hours of sleep and deep spacefaring dreams.  While dreaming, ever so often as it were, I would surface for a breath.

Before I fell asleep, I was also meditating.  I had called on the white light.  I then saw a large sea of clear crystals that were of different sizes.

They were all pointing upwards from this valley.  Beneath the crystals was a pool of pure white light… it glowed.  I gravitated towards it.

This happened after I called on the pure white light to come and protect me.  I have never had that experience before.  It was rather nice.

I found the extra-human on his home world, somehow, just a bit too eager to have us come off on some diversionary excursion with him.  It had not been part of our itinerary.

Besides, who knows if his species or a fellow species were into enslaving Earthly humans?  Perhaps, they were even into eating Earthly humans or capturing them.

Who knows, perhaps, they kept Earthly humans for zoological studies?  For all you know, he merely wanted to simply sell us off to the local trafficker in Earthly human cargo.

No thanks, ‘Corky’ as in corkscrew-spined one.  END.

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Photo: Orion nebula.

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© 2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.