Happy New Age !!

The time has come - three Mayan wheels have come together full circle ending the long calendar and a 26,000 year cycle has been completed.

Happy New Age !

The end of shock lit, copycats, boring repetitive unimaginative inside the box stories.  The beginning of true science, searching, creativity, kindness, beauty, true art....and truth.  Why?  We are doomed together unless we start on the path we know is right and good.  Earth is in crisis and we can turn it around...but we have to use the highest creativity of every single person - each purpose in life should be attuned to the world around us because we are all individuals with something unique and powerful to contribute.

What can you do?  I don't mean standing on a soapbox with more outrageous attention seeking crap than the last person on that soapbox.  I want art.  I want us to ride the breeze like eagles with all seeing eyes and dive like dolphins with sonar perception.  It's all so possible right now. 

STAR WATER  - the beginning of new age supernatural art in books.  Seriously...and truthfully.
  

Sorcery of astrology - the eclipse

Hey all, here's some info from me to share with apprentice sorcerers.  Not saying I have an agreement with the dark forces or anything but it's a lot of research I've done, much thinking outside the box, and linking one thing to another - using imagination, dreams and all the info I can lay my hands on for a long time.

The solar eclipse is November 13th.  Sun and moon are in Scorpio.  This is a very powerful combination.  The premiere of  "Breaking Dawn 2" happens to fall at this time.  Was an astrologer consulted I wonder?  Why is this placement of planets a powerful influence in the cosmos?  The energy of Scorpio is dark and Plutonian, meaning ruled by Pluto. It's an 8th house matter - this house rules sex, regeneration, business, legacies, crises, things hidden.  Perfect for a premiere movie about vampires.

This solar eclipse should be life altering in a positive way for me - as my birthchart Scorpio is on the ascendant, which means at sunrise on the day of my birth, this house ruler was breaking dawn.  Since the moon blocks the sun in an eclipse, the sun will not break dawn for me.  My moon will block the sun and rule with Scorpio.  My birthchart moon is in Aries, in the 5th house of creativity.

Brings to mind a famous line in "Romeo and Juliet"

But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! -
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already pale and sick with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Enough about me...I just want to describe a bit of this occult info... but for more mysteries my book "Star Water" will have to be represented by a very imaginative and curious publisher, one who will see this next big book series on our horizon!

The Runes and Samhain

In case you think I may be just a person trying to promote a book, that this book is not different from others, allow me to share a lesson in "Supernature 101".  Something I've observed and found to be helpful in trying to understand what everyone wants to understand - that is 'the big picture'.

The alphabet is based on runes.  These runic symbols hold keys to archaic magic.  Words now are not what they were ages ago.  Words were magical, each and every letter, symbol had profound meaning into infinity. Now we punch the keyboard, maybe 6 or 10 letters each second, depending on how fast we type them.  Ages ago each symbol was carefully drawn, then later each letter was carefully drawn and much thought went into every one.  The AlphaBet...Alpha...Beta...the letters had a hierarchy - literally 'a high arc', an order, an insight into origins of existence, clues to our imagery.

We have great responsibility with words.  They have caused much trouble on Earth, or they can do much good.  Their meaning originally was not just to communicate what we thought, or what we saw.  The meaning of words is not even to communicate in that way.  Words, letters illustrate a picture in ways that are forgotten now, we have lost the meanings.  There are hints.

Musicians, some of them, are closer to the meaning of speech, reading, and writing.  They grasp a lofty concept of a chorus, of repetition, because repetition and chorus is in nature...but we don't understand the chords.  Sometimes music strikes a chord within us.  We recognize something obscure...a popular song may song silly but it's popular for a reason.  The creator has struck a chord.

With authors, we've lost a lot of meaning.  Words.  Be careful how we use them, for really we know not what they mean and there is a huge effect on society by using words.

Samhain, or Halloween.  It has become a mockery, really.  It's worse now than the old days because we just dress up or try to act like we have some knowledge of what's going on during that ancient sacred time.  Samhain is a window to the soul, a clue to death and the beyond.  Why have we made this a time for scaring people?  There's enough in everyday life to scare everyone without dressing in costumes we have no clue about...and I'm not excluding myself.  I'd love to know more about this window to the soul, the Samhain...but like everything, people try to pursue something like copycats!  I'll light a candle my way.

Almost October book trailer

My book begins 'Almost April' and now here we are heading into the Autumn.  My creation in prose 'Star Water' is the next noteworthy thing, I know it because we're looking for reasons and answers in this crucial time on Earth - not that I have the answers but the secret is to ask the right questions.  In fact - in Arthurian times that was the secret of the Holy Grail, to ask the right questions.  I had it up to here with fake magic and people who don't have a clue about what supernature is lol!  If the books in Alexandria hadn't been burned centuries ago we would have understood our world and environment a lot better!  Here is an another trailer from Chapter 8 - "Rides" -

Owen was absorbing this family history.  I could tell by his alert expression he was interested.
           “Cool,” he simply stated while Paul seemed lost in youthful memories.  “You’re still living off the land, Paul.”

            Paul broke out in a brief laugh, wrinkles creasing his face and lifting it.  “You got that right, bro!”

            “Are you ready to ride, Leena?” The warlock moved toward the bridles.

            “Yeah!  But I’m not very experienced, really.  I can’t sit a trot without a lot of air between me and the saddle.  I’m putting in a request for your gentlest horse, please Paul.”

            “Okay, that would be Chief.  He is sweet as sugar, aren’t you babe?  Sweet as sugar,” he repeated in a babyish voice as he gently touched the white blaze on his chestnut horse’s forehead.

            I was glad these animals were obviously so well loved and cared for by this eccentric and unusual hippie horse whisperer.  The animals’ coats shone with good health.

            “Chief is tall,” I noted. “That’s a long ways down.  Are you sure?  What about the smaller one?” I pointed at the coffee colored bay mare.

            “Koko?  She may be small but she can be skittish, and it’s Springtime.  All the horses are feeling fresh.  If you’re partial to KoKo I’ll saddle her for you.  But the black isn’t an option.  I woudn’t let you on him – he’s very touchy.  That’s Mandrake and he’s mine, not easy for anyone except me.  And the grey is Sir Galahad – Owen always rides him.”

            “Let’s draw a straw for Koko and Chief,” I suggested.  “No favoritism.  Let the fates decide.”

            “Alright, I’ll be the straw bearer.  Ha!  straw bearer, not strawberry!” My boyfriend joked as he turned his back to us and plucked blades of long grass from beside the fence post.  He came back and faced me.  “Longer straw is Chief.  Pick one”

            I studied two equal lengths of tufted grass in his closed fist and chose one on the left side.  He turned his palm upward and revealed my choice.  Long straw.

            “Chief!” The leggy chestnut horse acknowledged my voice.  His ears went forward.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Owen give thumbs up to Paul.

     “What’s that for?” I asked.                                            
            “What?” The warlock’s expression was innocent.

            “Nothing.  Let’s get the saddles.  This is going to be awesome!” I was excited to ride.  I followed the guys into the dim old barn.  Zeke ran ahead of us, his heavy shining sable coat shimmering with every step.  A pleasant mixed scent of hay, horses and leather filled my nostrils.  My gents each hoisted ornate stitched saddles over their shoulders and we went back outside to the pasture gate.  I helped by holding the bridles and handed them over to the guys.

            They easily placed bridles on Chief and the muscular thick necked, white maned dapple grey that seemed happy to be with Owen.  The horse nudged him and whinnied softly.

            “Sir Galahad, are you ready?” the sweet sorcerer murmured.

            “Hey Owen – sorry for not having one of those pancakes you English guys put on a horse’s back,” Paul stated as he winked at me.

            “If you’re referring to our English saddles, Paul, I’ll have you know it’s pretty darn hard to jump with these Western things.  If the horse clears the obstacle you have the saddlehorn knock the air out of your stomach.”

            “Well, we ain’t doing any jumping today, pardner,” I said in my best cowgirl accent.

            Owen turned to me and pursed his lips as he tightened a cinch belt under the grey’s belly.  “Hey pardner, we ain’t doin’ any little thang you don’t want.”

            He sounded hilarious trying to mimic a cowboy voice.  I burst out laughing.  Paul just grinned and shook his head.

            There were butterflies fluttering inside of me as we got ready to ride.

            “Wait – something for the saddlebags.” Owen quickly jogged to his Jeep and came back with a canvas package.  “A picnic.” He smiled and packed the satchel behind his horse’s saddle.

            “Sweet!” I was rather nervous about getting on the horse but there was no way I wanted to show it…something about animals sensing fear.  With my left foot lifted up high to meet a stirrup, I waved off help from my boyfriend.  In a somewhat awkward maneuver I was sitting in my saddle, looking down at what seemed to be a great distance to grassy ground.

            “Way to go!  You’ll be fine, Leena.” The warlock sat astride Sir Galahad in one easy movement.          

            “Enjoy the ride!” Paul swung the gate open partially.

            “Thanks,” we echoed as we ambled past him, aiming for a path among huge ponderosa pine trees at the end of his yard.

            I was beginning to feel comfortable at this slow pace.  Sir Galahad’s wavy white tail was a few feet in front of Chief.  We almost reached the end of the yard when a sound like a motor’s distant rumbling came from the sky.  The steady thumping drone grew louder and closer with each step our horses took.  Zeke began to bark menacingly above the steadily increasing hum.

            I peered over my shoulder at Paul and Zeke standing where we had left them near the gate.  Paul was waving at us – a pushing motion, like he was telling us to get into the forest right away.

            Quickly I turned my head around to see a concerned expression cloud my sorcerer’s handsome face.  Confused, I stared back in the direction of the gate as my horse continued stepping lightly forward into a secluded grove.

            “Come on, Leena,” Owen urged.

            Unable to tear my eyes away from the scene, I still looked at Paul as trees became a canopy above us. 

            “What is that noise?” I almost yelled, alarmed and rather scared.  Chief didn’t seem to be nervous.  He still followed Sir Galahad and soon we would be out of range of the view behind us.  But just before our path turned I pulled on my reins. There was no way this disturbance was going to be ignored by me, no matter what the warlock wanted me to do.

            “Stop.  I see a helicopter!” I yelled. 

            In a far corner of Paul’s fenced meadow a whirlwind was playing havoc with tall grass below, tossing and flattening the slender stalks in all directions.  Staying close their guardian, his two remaining horses were agitated, trotting back and forth along the fence, tossing their heads.  Zeke stood close by.

            Descending from above the violently waving grass, a black helicopter was landing like a giant bumblebee onto a nest.  Chief suddenly moved ahead.  I swiveled my head to see why we were moving and was startled by the resolute expression hardening my sorcerer’s angular features.  His eyes flashed as he gripped the rein close to my horse’s mouth and he pulled us forward to follow him and Galahad.

            “Leena, follow me.  We have to get out of view…now!” 

            Stunned by his demand and confused by the unfolding scene behind us I didn’t resist.

            “I don’t want them to see us.” He turned in his saddle and stared, his sage colored eyes shooting several sparks right through me.  “Let’s ride, babe!  Hurry!”

            These metallic fireworks were a signal of his intensity and there was no arguing.  It was like being struck by needles and a surge of hot energy rushed through me.

            He let go of my rein and lightly thumped his heels a couple of times against Galahad’s body.  They were off at a fast trot.  Owen was obviously a very experienced rider, easy and smooth.  Chief followed without my urging and I was trying hard not to bounce off the saddle.  Meanwhile I held onto the reins and the saddlehorn and kept my heels down.  Thankfully the boot heels kept my feet from sliding through the stirrups.

            Within a few paces there was a sort of rhythm to my horse’s movement but I couldn’t quite find a way to time the steps, to lessen the jolt.  We reached a straight stretch on the forest path cushioned with last year’s fallen pine needles.  At least if I fell, the ground wouldn’t be like cement.

            Owen’s horse started to gallop and within a pace or two, I felt Chief change stride.  A memory flashed in front of me…my sister, Crystal and me ….a flat desert at sunset with a pink red horizon and pink sand below us….Crystal and I on mustangs from the ranch…galloping back to their barn before our father had to pay for an extra hour.  Those were the early days…when we were brave.

            Courage flooded through my veins and pumped into my heart.  Galloping was easier than trotting.  I could do it.  The feeling of freedom was thrilling as I closely followed my leader.  I crouched down low, wind whipping my hair back.

            Our horses’ hooves broke up clumps of dirt, leaving tracks and making a heavy thudding sound with every stride while we crossed a clearing beside a small indigo pond.  Mallard ducks splashed up out of the water in a flock, honking as they rose in the noon hour sun directly above us.

Good things of day

"Good things of day begin to droop and drowse
Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse."

"Let's make us medicine of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief."

"What's done cannot be undone."

And one of my favorites

"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."  

These are all quotes from Shakespeare's play "Macbeth" ...or I should say attributed to Shakespeare when possibly all the plays were written by an anonymous nobleman who could not attach his name to the scripts.  Why?  Politics.  See the recent movie "Anonymous" for the true story.

We are on the brink of a great change in consciousness...we have to be - because the world cannot survive this assault by our so called "progress".

Star Water    Star Water   Star Water....I will help show people what I've learned from my hour upon this stage thus far, full of sound and love, not fury and signifying nothing.

Another book trailer for you!

Hello & Happy 4th of July...oops I just about put $ of July cuz it's the same key capitalized...omg!  Get it? Capitalized...the current world is about capitalization anyway...word association is intuitive and leads to discoveries.  My book can help a lot of young girls discover the goddess within - a very empowering virtue.  Women should be mysterious and wise, loved and respected by men.  Back to basics in a golden age.  But...to demonstrate here's a sample from the chapter called 'Spell It' from my book 'Star Water'.

Katrine was nothing like I had imagined from the sound of her voice.  She seemed to be around the same age as her companion, she had streaked hair light and black, long and parted in the middle.  Her clothing was similar to Byron’s except instead of a vest she wore a sweater which hugged her skinny body.

But the startling factor was their faces and a type of weird aura visible around their bodies.  The color of their facial skin was almost a deathly sallow tinge and same with a type of light around them.  Sickly almost – not a pleasant color at all.

The Mycroft warlock looked amazing next to them.  He was wearing just a basic shirt and jeans, lithe as a cat, broad shouldered standing with arms crossed facing his visitors.  His energy field was visible.  I could see those silver sparks flying not from his eyes, but jumping from his body in arcs of light, one or two at a time.

“No I don’t fear you at all.  Your energy is not strong and I want you to leave my property and get out of town.  I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.  Right now.  Go. I’m giving you a chance to leave peacefully.”

In one motion Byron reached into his pocket and lunged forward.  Katrine stood with something in her hand.  At the same time Owen uncrossed his arms and there was a sound like a huge sheet of metal being struck by a thousand steel pellets.  A flash of florescent purple light exploded, lighting up the house and then a smoky haze showering metal ashes obscured the deck from my view.  The explosion vibrated with a high pitched tone and Katrine’s scream.  There was a scent like pine tree needles mixed with burning wires.  Vapors trailed in glossy curves.

Fain began to bark.  I tried to hold his muzzle and then had to let go because he was freaking out but I gripped his long leash and wound it around my hand.  Through the smoke I saw Katrine and Byron running down the steps of the outside deck.  They ran across the property, swatting at their clothes, toward Mycrofts’ dock.  They covered their faces with shirts pulled up in an attempt to block the smoke.

I finally saw a small speedboat as they raced, coughing, to the water’s edge, letting go of their shirt masks.  Unfastening a rope from the dock they climbed in, revved up the loud motor, turned on headlights and took off for parts unknown.  When their boat was almost out of sight and everything became quiet again I summoned up my courage.  I climbed down to stand in the light of Mycrofts’ yard.

Stephenie is genius

Stephenie Meyer has done so much for so many people - not only the Twilight series books which are awesome & fabulous but look at all the people she's helped & employed!  Kristen Stewart is now the highest paid actress in the U.S....deservedly so imo.  She's very honest & different in her skills - and the perfect Bella.  And what about Robert Pattinson?  Omg what a talent!  Twilight was the difference of course.  

Actually Stephenie Meyer changed the world.  I wouldn't have written Star Water if I had not read the Twilight series.  Stephenie is a modern writer for modern times...brilliant.  Every era changes, faster and faster.  What was good writing in Elizabethan times would not go over now...but it's great to have a background and knowledge of all the classics.  I am a student of literature & I appreciate how Ms Meyer is too, and how she wrote with a classic background in Lit but completely nailed the way to write today!

I should keep up my blogs more but I've been busy on my second book and trying to 'encourage' people to look at my first book, Star Water.  I've not yet learned how to cast a spell to get people to read it LOL!!  Seriously spellcraft is an art and held in high regard in ancient times for good reason.  I explore this in my books.

I'm wishing Stephenie would write more and keep in touch a bit more frequently...but she has family and she's already done so much.  I can't help it - she's such a wonderful talent & I fear she'll stop!  Help us, Stephenie Meyer...u rocked us!

We want the truth

People wonder why some books make it big and others don't.  Same with movies and all artistic endeavors really.  Is art supposed to be a best seller?  Imo, no historically usually art is not a best seller in its own era, but it can be.  How lovely for the creator of the art when he or she hits the pulse of a country, or nails what the world needs at the same time as the piece is created.  Life is so much more comfortable when the artist is not starving...but also sometimes comfort takes the edge off and creativity is lost.  It's a trade off.

I want to tell the truth.  I dislike working at something I don't believe in to keep afloat, especially if I'm only doing it to make someone else rich and the work is not enhancing my life... my art is really my life.  I want to tell the truth.  I have a story of the supernatural and how it ties into everyday life so very very much but we've forgotten over centuries of neglect.  I have a story to tell, and when I get feedback from this story it could evolve into a society of people who search for the truth through advanced knowledge of the past.  There is so much to share when we all get together.  Let's make it happen, please!

Star Water - book trailer (excerpt)

Good evening my lovely readers!  Thanks for checking my blogger.  I thought a good idea would be to blog a part of my novel showing the supernatural attraction of Merleena & Owen!  I don't care for the phrase 'book excerpt' - it sounds too stuffy.  I like the idea of a 'book trailer' like a movie trailer.  Here's part of Chapter Eleven - called Eleventh Hour.  Owen and Merleena have met for tea in a bakery.  He has told Merleena he's leaving for awhile - to do a gig with his band.

We ate our scones and sipped tea.

            “What do you see?” he suddenly asked.

            “What do you mean?” I placed my hot cup on its saucer.

            “Sorcery,” he blew the word to me in an exhaled whisper, “is about seeing.  Have you thought of the word ‘seer’?  People tend to disregard the obvious.”

            “There’s a theory I read.  If you don’t know what something is, you can’t see it,” I replied.

            “Very good.” He sat upright, interested.  “Rather abstract, but intriguing.”

            “Alright.  I notice this rain is making things shiny and beautiful, washing everything.  Oh yeah, and I saw white omens before I came through this door.  White paper tossed in the wind, white door.”

            “Right on.” He raised his cup, acknowledging my statement with a smile.  Two silver rings glistened on his right hand.  “Good omens.  Could signify a lot of things.  It’s up to you to decipher material symbols and just enjoy the beauty.  Like - white paper moving could be a message on the way.  Which way was it going – north, south?   There’s a clue.  Then again you can choose to disregard the white omens.  Then they’ll mean nothing.”        

            “All these double meanings.  Isn’t anything in sorcery effortless?” I took a bite of my scone.

            “You have to let it flow.  The craft is not about struggle,” he said matter-of-factly.

            I slid a cat eye glance to him.  “Is the craft easy for you?”

            “Sometimes.  Right now I’m staying on the path, trying to find the best way.  Loving you is easy.  Sweetheart, loving you makes everything seem easier.”

            We left the café over an hour later when Renata was cleaning pastry cabinets and removing a few remaining items from shelves.  We would have stayed longer, but she was shutting her place down for the day obviously, although she said there was no hurry.

            A cold draft instantly enveloped Owen and I as we walked arm in arm to my car.  Too many thoughts were on my mind.  Although my intention was to be mature, I was having a hard time. 

            For one thing, rain in our valley meant snow on mountain passes.  I couldn’t help but caution my boyfriend as I knew he would be traveling on that highway to Vancouver.  He tried to comfort me by saying winter tires on the Jeep were very reliable.  Even a warlock could spin out of control on icy roads, I thought to myself.

            But I didn’t want any of these unsightly scenarios circulating in my head.  I had to think positive.  Another picture replaced the first one in my imagination.  Maybe the second scene wasn’t as scary in some ways but it bothered me.  An image of StoneHinge playing the gig in Vancouver… my boy angel looking so gorgeous onstage with lots of girls in skimpy tight clothing, dancing in front of the band, right below his feet.

            That image didn’t please me either so I imagined a third possibility – the Blacklords in a gang, outnumbering my warlock or who knows what they would be capable of?

            Suddenly I was shivering and not just from effects of cold rain pelting down on us as we stood beside my car.  He put his arms around my shoulders, in a motion both comforting and sensual and I clung to him.  My arms, warm under his jacket, encircled his waist.  A huge lump formed in my throat.

            Two weeks.  Anything could happen in two weeks, especially with text messaging as the only option of communication.  There would be no tender spoken words to treasure, day after day.

            I bravely raised my face to meet his silver penetrating eyes, more metallic in the rain.  He wasn’t just a boy.  What had I gotten myself into?  A waiting game of tension and wondering? 

            No, it wasn’t going to be like that.  I would fill my days while he was gone.  Catch up on stuff I’d been meaning to do, like…I couldn’t think of anything.  All I could see was Owen, looking straight into me at that moment.  His lips were hot against mine.  They seared away the lump in my throat and heat raced through my body.  Again, like always, I wanted more.  He was my light colored angel, my dark narcotic obsession, lord of the occult.

            I gasped briefly for air, my eyes closing and head back, reeling in his embrace. Quickly like the lightning bolt flashing above us, my lips found his mouth again as electricity surged through our joined bodies.  Thunder cracked loudly not a second later, loud as an amplifier at a rock concert.  It shook us.

            I drew back, completely unsure if lightning had struck very close or if my warlock had performed magic.

            “Oh my god, did you do that on purpose?” I was a bit delirious recovering from his charged embrace.

            “Are you referring to our kiss or the lightning?” he mused.

            “Both,” I suddenly realized.  “When we’re holding each other, when we kiss – I never want to stop.”

            “You think I do?” He peered at me, his eyelashes damp.  He pushed a wet strand of hair from his face.  “I don’t think we have to stop.  I want all of you.”

            “Out here in the rain?” I half smiled, flirting.

            “No, not out here.” His intense voice sliced through air.  “But I want you so much.  I don’t think I had anything to do with the lightning and thunder.  Who knows?  Your energy field is strong.  Maybe we’re at the right place at the right time.”

            I stared incredulously.  He was serious, standing like a dream, beautiful and mesmerizing….and leaving me too soon.

        

Continuing first chapter

Thanks, I've had several hits on this site in the past few days - awesome!  I don't mind if you don't comment but if you want to, that's great too.  Here's more of Chapter One titled Boy Angel.  Merleena is already becoming obsessed with Owen and she's not even met him.

I deleted the rest of this post as well because I'm in the process of editing the book for publication!

Boy Angel

I want to share an amazing experience of love and learning.  I met a beautiful boy a few years ago - we were teenagers.  He opened up a new world to me - the world every girl...or every woman...or everyone should be aware of.  It's a world where we understand a bit more why we are here and how everything is both science and supernature.  My life has never been the same.  Some of the story is like a vision of how far we can go if we use our imagination...and how there is hope for the future if we rely on secret wisdom of the past. The first chapter is called Boy Angel.  Here's part of it.  Let me know if you want to see more.

Chapter 1 – Boy Angel

Almost April.  The day was a picture postcard but my life was like an abstract painting thrown onto a canvas by a crazy artist.  Fain, a sleek dark greyhound walked slowly beside me in our orchard.  White sun and thick drifting clouds competed in a game of shadows.  A sweet breeze met us with faint perfume of wild violets.  My green hoodie was warm enough, just barely warm enough. I checked the pockets – cellphone in the right, piece of paper in the left.

Always, this grove of trees had been so comforting when I visited my grandparents every summer.  It was like druids could have held meetings beneath a canopy of branches, so peaceful and enchanting was the setting.  On this Spring day I stopped and watched my dog snuffle at places in last year’s faded, tall grass – but then he raised his head and stood motionless.

“What?” I spoke quietly.

I deleted most of this chapter as I'm editing it - don't want to post something that is no longer in the book!