Self-portrait by Sir Anthony van Dyck
van der Pelster, Joop 12/7/43 ]O[ 29/8/2023 NLN/Montréal
Michael: The fragment who was Joop was a fifth level old artisan – second incarnation at this level – in the observation mode, with a goal of stagnation, a pragmatist, in the emotional part of intellectual centre.
This fragment had a Saturn/Lunar body type.
Joop’s primary chief feature was stubbornness with a weak secondary of self-deprecation.
Joop was sixth-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fourth in the second greater cadence. He is a member of entity one, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod/node 414 – cadre mate of both Merlin & Arvin’s.
Joop has a discarnate artisan essence twin whom he did know in childhood and an incarnate priest task companion, with whom no plans were made to meet in this lifetime.
This was a resting life for this fragment, whose three primary needs are: security, communion and exchange.
He was a sculptor in Russia – at the time of the 1917 revolution, took a stand with the communists and was killed in a riot in St. Petersburg. He chose not to be reborn during the Second World War, in Western Europe, but in an old soul country, rather than a mixed young/mature society.
At that time, the Soviet Government was very early-young soul repressive, while the general population was mid-cycle mature and even though he was only 30 when he died in that previous life, he chose not to be reborn in the Soviet Union and took a resting life in the Netherlands.
Arvin feels a connectedness with Joop because they are in the same cadre and Joop has a great deal of service in his casting, as does Arvin. Here is a priest-cast artisan who is a member of an entity one, so he has needs to serve both the higher ideal and the common good.
There is a great deal of the “Visionary” here, which is one of the seven aspects of the Artisan. He is also a “walker” in that he can pierce the veil between the planes at will, even though Joop did not call this phenomenon by name.
Joop and Arvin have known each other in many previous lives. They have been lovers of both sexes and of both hetero and homoerotic orientation. Joop has filled the mentor position in Arvin’s support group three times.
Perhaps the most notable life that this fragment had was in the late sixteenth century-early seventeenth century, when Joop was the Flemish portrait painter and depicter of religious themes, Anthony Van Dyck. Anthony was later knighted, and is known historically as, Sir Anthony Van Dyck.
He was a good friend, sometimes-lover and collaborator of Peter Paul Rubens. Both of these men were bisexual and lusty and enjoyed the company of both men and women, even though they pretended to be very good Catholic boys.
Interestingly enough, the fragment who was Peter Paul was in the immediate past life, the imminent American photographer, Ansel Adams; same great artistic ability, different medium.
Joop did have great ability to make his lovers feel loved and this is something that generally goes along with the latter part of the old soul cycle.
They are no longer so concerned about their own sexual pleasure, mainly because it is easier for them and rather commonplace but they do generally enjoy bringing others to the heights of ecstasy.
Every mature soul should have a late old soul lover at least once, just as the opposite is true. The mature soul brings to the sex act the passion and the fire, while the very old soul brings to it the skill and patience of so many lives.
All told, to date the soul which was incarnate as Joop has had 18 past lives with Arvin and 12 with his task companion who was recently Merlin.
One of those past-life associations was in late 16th century, early 17th century Belgium when Arvin, then female, was a lover and muse of painter, Otto van Veen’s.
*From incarnation to incarnation, there are always touchstones. For Joop this was validated when venturing to his Oakville home, there I discovered that Joop collected the tiniest and most ornate, mostly gold, old world frames like those favoured from the great masters of the Flemish school. For me, having been a muse of Otto van Veen’s and Sir Peter Paul Rubens, it was no surprise that I would prove a favourite of George Hawken’s. Interestingly enough, Joop’s numerology at his passing perfectly mirrors mine at my birth. 2.1.8 = 11.
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Buster, aged 11. Buster Is Now aged18.
Last weekend, as I had not in ages felt, I became splayed. I was not depressed – I am not given to being thusly indulgent – too old to give a damn, frankly. In any event, Buster was being unusually withdrawn. Late at night, I caught him a couple of times, looking spooked and looking off into the pyramid room, being wide-eyed and even taking cover a couple of times. On Saturday evening, August 26, 2023, I missed my 2200 call to Joop; then again, it was not a cause for concern. I had overslept and if need be Joop would call up. Since late last year, we had been speaking every weekend, by early June, it became nightly.
Harbord Collegiate Institute
Joop had cancer and was slowly ebbing away. Back in September 1977, I had just begun my final year at Harbord Collegiate Institute. The storied high school was where architect Frank Gehry also attended. I was then in grade 13, which no longer exists, and along with studies also actively pursued dance studies. There were a few classmates with whom I messed around, nothing serious. The only adult with whom I then interacted was an artist and true eccentric. Ours, though, was never a sexual relationship, which I rather valued. He was knowledgeable, a sculptor and lived on and off in New York City, the El Dorado to which we all gravitated.
Robarts Library, University of Toronto
One cool Wednesday afternoon, instead of walking home from school to our East York residence at 122 Mortimer Avenue, along Bloor Street and across the Bloor Street viaduct, I continued along Harbord and made it to University of Toronto’s Fort Book, its central library, Robarts Library. Before getting down to studies, I had been poring through copies of African Arts magazine; I was eager to start an African mask collection so research was essential. Just as I began leaving a couple of hours later, I emerged outside facing due east at the top of the steps, a plume of smoke drifted my way and looking over, I caught the eye of the smoker. Diminutive, he was readily recalled from a dream the week prior. He smiled, just as he had in that dream and we both made for each other. He offered his cigarette, I declined by forthrightly stating, “you know, if you want to kiss, all you have to do, is ask?” Twenty minutes later with the most spectacular twinkling blue eyes ever, we shared our first kiss in his Oldsmobile Cutlass in the parking lot at 1111 Broadview Avenue, less than ten minute walk from my home.
Soon, I would abandon Robarts for the drive out to Joop’s Oakville home, which he shared with dark & handsome, Niles Milford. They kept their swimming pool open for lots of frolicking fun well into October. There were a few threesomes but most of all, I had the most sublime moments of ecstasy when lovemaking with Joop. The first time we were intimate, we walked into the bathroom to shower together and he winked at me as I stood arrested and awestruck at seeing, for the first time, my aura; Joop’s aura was also visible. Clearly, it was not the first time that he had witnessed this. Every timer thereafter, I always saw my aura when Joop and I were intimate – it was always intimate rather than sex or fucking; there is simply no other way to describe what it was like being with Joop.
The Belvedere, Montréal
Soon, Niles & Joop were relocated to Montréal, living in tony TMR (Town of Mount Royal) by late winter 1978. For the rest of my life, each August, I received a birthday card from Joop. Our love was deep and abiding. No matter where we were, we always managed at least once per month to talk by phone. From that first phone call, we had the most intense phone sex. Every time, we came simultaneously and few were the times when I saw my aura afterwards on taking to the bathroom. Though they never met and never spoke, one thing always fascinated me; Merlin & Joop sounded exactly alike on the phone. This was even more so evident with Merlin’s passing in November, 1989. A month later, December 1989, Niles died of cancer; Joop and I then had each other, preventing the other from falling apart.
Copper Pyramid in Green Bedroom
Sensing that the end was nigh, I recharged my trusty crystals and burnt beeswax candles through my art-filled home whilst meditating and sleeping in the pyramid. As the energy of the pyramid is considerable, I never sleep longer than four hours at a time, the dream activity therein is intense and any longer duration proves exhausting. Saturday, Sunday and Monday, I slept more than 7 hours each day, which is unheard of for me. I was splayed and feeling dislocated; I knew well what was about to unfold. Sunday night, we talked for just under five minutes in our daily communion. On Monday, he did not answer, which had previously occurred. Again, on Tuesday, he did not respond; he did say that he was sleeping longer and dropping off well before 2200. I thought to suggest that we speak, going forward, changing the time of our rendezvous to 2100. I wrote an email and suggested we chat in the daytime on Wednesday, if not, I would speak later.
The phone finally answered; however, it was Joop’s executor. Joop had been discovered seven hours earlier. Instantaneously, the dross that had enervated me, evaporated. My longest enduring friendship, love affair was over. The one lover/friend with whom I had never once had a falling out; on the cusp of 46 years, after months of cocooning, Joop unfolded his wings and took flight, becoming refocussed elsewhere. Sweet and blissful dreams my love; the most intimate lucid dreams, we shall yet share.
After having a good cry, over two days, I slipped into six- inch Bally, black patent leather pumps, plopped in my red-tailed butt plug – I plan on going as Prinz Wilhelm von Pegged und Fisted for Halloween celebrations with a faux Irish Guards tunic. For the next several hours, West Indian to the core, I played the previous compilation of the Mighty Sparrow’s music from my Calypso-sodden childhood in the Caribbean, thoroughly enjoying myself whilst celebrating Joop’s magical, beautiful life.
Damn right! Life’s no dress rehearsal, shake arse at racist boors whilst laughing loudest!
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Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.
Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul. 