David Normal

Absolutely fantastic, detailed and beautiful artwork by David Normal. I'd use one of his amazing paintings here but I haven't contacted him so don't have permission. (Yet, hint :) But you can visit his site: David Normal and see for yourself.

Thanks to Lesley at The Debris Field for the link.

Professed UFO Abductee Brings His Story and His Artwork to Balance Salon | The Jersey City Independent

Professed UFO Abductee Brings His Story and His Artwork to Balance Salon | The Jersey City Independent

Old Poems and Images

I've been going through some of my poetry and creative writing with the idea of e-zines, or chapbooks, or something, not sure yet where I'm going with this. I noticed that some of theses early poems from the 1980s have recurring images of orbs, night skies, and feelings of disconnection. In re-reading them, I realized many of these were written around the time I saw the orange orb. In fact, this poem refers to an orb, although it's a sliver orb, not orange. The imagery is interesting: moon women, orbs, shadows, and the end, sweet jesus, "capturing my frozen eyes." ?! What was that about? I also noticed that I wrote a lot of these kinds of poems during the late summer and the fall, which is the time frame for our orb sighting. And in going back further, reading poems I wrote while living in L.A., the imagery of orbs and night and planets, etc. were present. As Jim and I know now, we had UFO related, and/or high strangeness events occur when we were living in L.A., before the orange orb sighting. And, of course, going back to our childhoods, independent of each other. Are there clues in these poems, signals from the subconscious? No doubt, lol.

unconnected with moon women

a silver orb waits silently in a
musty corner on a wooden shelf,
hidden by sharp shadows like Chinese meat cleavers poised
on thick pegs above labeled spice jars, corked and racked, 
full of the herbs of mid-wives, now forgotten.

on the windowsill, tart purple grapes, hot and shriveled
grapefruit and pomegranate exposing their soft pink and secret glistening red waiting to be eaten.

unconnected with moon women i wait,
a single artichoke on a a scalloped plate, my tips half chewed, strewn about the cream white edges

the sliver orb shifts forward slightly in the night, and
one sliver gleams bone white 

capturing my frozen eyes.

~ 1982

Al Jamming on a Peaceful November Sunday...

I love Alfred's music; here's a clip of Alfred playing his gutair, lovely

Art of Nate Wragg

Just discovered a blog new to me, via I Love the Yeti blog: artist Nate Wragg, who does wonderful retro type (to my eye) illustrations of things Yeti, and more. . . check it out.

Poem For the Halloween Season

Recently I've been writing poetry and fiction again, it feels good. I'm not sure where this poem came from or exactly what it's about, but here it is. It has an eerie Halloween supernatural feel to it, so in time for the witching season, and all that's spooky in the night, here it is:

 Blue Lights

unexpected, blue lights appear
in this isolation, and through
the thin cracks in the rough wood,
glowing mists invite, even while repelling

a cold silence makes itself known, waiting
we hear its breathing

dreams, night walking, forgetfulness
only slivers of mists and light beams remain

jarring realities intrude, mundane violences, abrupt commands
we don’t understand, we don’t remember
but sense invisible connections anyhow

we believe there’ll be a reveal in the retelling, no matter
how fragmented

memory has a sentience all its own

~ regan lee, october 2010

[Photograph by Regan Lee]

Art on C2C

This artist shares his view of a gray which looks a bit reptilian as well, on Coast to Coast.