Equinox of the gods 09/23/2019

The Genius Loci

Equinox of the gods 09/23/2019

An account of being accosted by familiar and known interdimensional beings that reside on one of many of the magical hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, in Western North Carolina.  An unexpected visit by Nature Spirits, Hidden Folk, The Fae and instantly upon request The Genius Loci of this Place flanked by two Nunnehei as tall as the trees. 

Without warning, or my intention, no conjure, nor summoning them, they came.  A sudden appearance of the various races of Hidden Folk of this Place…  One of the many Sacred Grounds known to the Ancient Native American Tribe, the Cherokee.  

I braced for it, the impact of vapor-like seemingly self-luminous beings or spirits that I’m too familiar with here.  It’s not daily but weekly occurrence and frankly I’ve got used to it, and maybe I should be a bit more concerned.  Still not sure what these phantom like vapor clouds are, but the interdimensional beings that come out of them seem alright.  Heck ice notice the white smoke rolling off my body so much thought I was about to spontaneously human combust!  I’m not too sure but think the land may have something to do with this but to what extent, not there yet however I’ve came a long way about ley lines spirit lines, Fairy lines, geopathic stress and and basically Earth geomagnetic field lines that have been known historically as places of high strangeness.  Where I live between two large creek beds, belonging to the same body of water as it approaches and passes parallel to my east facing property line.  Then the creek takes a sharp left bend as it continues it’s flow away from my property parallel to the flow downstream.  I live on top of steep ridge at the tip of the bend where below the creek appears to perform a moat-like function as it wraps around the land on three sides.  There’s steep cliffs on sides or gorges where the water has ground its way through solid granite bedrock rich with a matrix of Crystal Quartz veins and likely solid Quartz at the core.

It’s hard to describe it’s a dangerous landscape for small children as well as adults who get lost at night misled by the Will’OWisps light or fright.  Some follow it others run, either way leads a downfall, maybe you could say I live on a mountain pan handle or sort of like a peninsula situated a few hundred feet above the banks of a big creek  located in the mountains of rural Boondocks County, North Carolina.  Basically it’s not ideal human habitat, but absolutely best habitat for the Fae with the running waters, hard granite, caves, cliffs, and rocky outcroppings.  It appeared to be vacant pristine mountain property when I purchased it.  I had no idea how popular it was for interdimensional people. And how many of these different sorts actually live in and around here in and out of our dimensions, and unknown to most human kind.

Here we go again I thought, as my body involuntarily began tucking elbows, head and chin inwards, like a standing fetal position it tensed itself for the impending collision of Spirit and three-dimensional Matter.  With thousandths of a second remaining before impact, in the timelessness of my mind’s sacred space of pure consciousness, thoughts of what is about to happen, what’s this all about, why now at this time, what have I done this time race through the mind.  The split-second reflection one gets right before something unexpected happens that will end or change a life forever.  Like the fleeting seconds leading up to an unavoidable head-on collision between two vehicles driving on a highway.  Those life-threatening experiences where time seems to slow down in what seems like slow motion, the last remaining few microseconds left in the unfolding of catastrophic events and even death.

As usual, the blow is subtle yet sends the cold chill from the bottom of my feet up through my spine and out the top of my head.  As the etheric dust began to clear from the merging two states of nature; the physical and non—physical I immediately became aware of the Cherokee Little People known as the Yunwi Tsundi in native tongue were appearing before my eyes materializing in full color and detailed translucent almost holographic form.  A strikingly attractive Native American woman wearing a beaded buckskin dress seemingly taller than the others appearing on the scene caught my eye as she stood on a slope above leading down to the flat grade where I stood.  I asked her did I do something that upset your people and apologized in advance if I’d done something wrong to offend or broken any of their Laws.  She whispered softly to my mind don’t worry everything is okay as I could make out her arm raising with her index finger pointing me to look towards the creek behind me. 

Turning around to look in the direction she was pointing I was taken back a bit at the numbers of beings that had amassed between me and the creek in the blink of an eye as a thick curtain of ether vapor they rode in on dissipated leaving, a three foot tall Little Indian dressed as a hunter or warrior wearing nothing but a feather and a light-colored buckskin loincloth that contrasted against his Earth toned deep brown skin approached me in a single smooth motion almost kneeling, his head bowed facing the ground as he reached his hand up outstretch for mine.  He spoke to my mind, “please take my hand”.  Without thinking I reached out and touched his outstretched hand and could feel some subtle tug which I found myself resisting because of the direction he was headed.  By this time others would make some gesture that I felt were like an usher seating me in a pew at church.  I could make out smiling facial expressions of some the gathered which relieved me but still paused, it dawned on me where this might be going.  He moved ahead towards the direction of the creek without me as I stood there and seemed to vanish into a wafting cloud of foggy vapor.  As I lowered my hand I noticed too that my own hand, arm, and body was smoking too, a phenomenon that I’ve been able to perceive in vision with my eyes that I dubbed “white smoke” after not finding any information on what it is exactly.  Search engines today are pretty efficient for accessing knowledge, but for the past year and a half, I’d been seeing it wafting off of my own body mostly late at night.  However, almost always I have to induce a trance to see these gentle winds, known as the Etheric Body.  While growing up as a child I’d always seen fuzzy energy particle blobs floating, faces and forms of animals, people and monsters.  However, up until this time, I didn’t know where the ability to “see” the “white smoke” had come from or what could have caused me to start seeing it.  In the weeks following this experience, it suddenly dawned on me.  It was the Cherokee Little People!  As now I refer to this ability as “The Gift from the Cherokee Little People”.  In my first encounter with them about two years earlier in a small cave entrance behind my home had left me no choice but to believe or to think there’s a good percentage this is happening and this is all real.  The experience I’d had on that day will forever go down as one of the most profound experiences in my life.  Meeting the Cherokee Little People (CLP) became one of those pivotal moments in life where one is touched by real magic rendering me in perpetual awe and curiosity ever since.  It’s the sort of alchemically that transforms the mundane reality of ordinary life into something unbelievably extraordinary and sacred.  Since that fateful day, the experiences that come from having the gift of second sight keep coming and seem to try and outdo the ones that proceeded it, each leaving me in a state of stunned disbelief giving way to the exhilaration and grateful joyous celebratory mood that comes when meeting new and exciting people.  It has given and continues to give my life a unique refreshing quality of joyful wonder a deeper sense of gratitude.  A gift without form, weight, monetary value or of no real use in the world.  Even though it took me a long time to realize I’d received something anything other than a prank from some trickster spirits, I knew it was an ability that I’d had growing up although in lesser strength and fewer occurrences.  Ecstatic rapture comes to mind as the way I feel when the some of the mysteries of Nature are revealed giving a peek behind her veil where even deeper mysteries welcome and await the initiate, the seeker, like the Fool and the Magician of the Tarot began the new journey through the twenty-two Major Arcana.

I still chuckle to myself as I recall some of the facial expressions and physical motions they were making as they urged me to go along.  More than likely had the offer presented itself last year to enter into the large portal, in a rock cliff in a bend of the creek pretty sure I’d tried without missing a beat but because I wasn’t in the headspace and not too receptive to communing with them lately.  I’d began having doubts about their real intentions and felt a bit betrayed about a week leading up to tonight’s powwow.    

Unassuming and hidden Portal behind the wall of green vegetation.  The large boulder in center of photo marks the threshold or stepping stone for coming out of or into the doorway.  I’ve seen some of the inhabitants emerge from the door, walk about and even witnessed some crawl under and into the crevices in a crablike motion.

Felt I’d put everything on the line for them since having many Q&A sessions where I’d channeled their wants, needs, and reasons behind them and they requested mine in order to accomplish this great work.  One of mine was to offer protection where needed at least long enough for me to provide and share what they’d taught me over the past two years.  At the very least they could have stopped or prevented some of these events in my life I felt even if they didn’t have a hand in it.  I’d asked them many times did they do this or that and always denied doing any harm.  Looking back I now see how some of these seemingly bad times had to happen in order to lead me to the point in my life where from the ashes of the reality that had been forever jettisoned into the abyss of time making way for a new chapter in the book of my life, a better version of myself now walking the path that leads to the soul’s highest purpose for being here.  I found more time and enthusiasm now that I’m doing the kind of work that I love doing. 

Another fact that likely put the brakes on going where they were urging me to go was that I knew where they were wanting me to go.  They were taking me to a portal that had been shown to me by the CLP last Summer.  Due to recent hardships I’d endured since stepping into my new role as a modern working for ancient employers, often I’d daydream about trying to enter it to escape the world that mine had turned into.  Ever since childhood felt as if I was a visitor and not a resident of Earth, but lately I’ve felt I didn’t belong here any longer.  Most everyone I met were still wearing blinders or asleep.  Even though I consider this human life a precious experience interlaced with both good and bad times, and the bad all too often serves to make one a better person.  I still wanted out of this system of human life but not by death necessarily, but by entering into one of the many portals around here revealed to me by the CLP.  They were inviting me to come with them through a portal in the outside bend of the creek in a wall of rock-cut away by millions of years of water flowing patiently grinding its way through this little gorge the creek flanked on both sides by steep rocky outcroppings and cliffs that I call my back yard.    The portal revealed to me over a year ago, was the opposite side of the creek located at a spot where the path of a powerful ley line runs underfoot that I was standing during tonight’s encounter.  Different points along this line have been places where I’d experienced some of the most vivid and powerful encounters including the one this night that was unfolding before my eyes in the dim darkness of late twilight and star light, I was shown the rock portal Creek side while scrying the water sitting in river sand.

Not knowing what to do or say since deciding not to try going with them it dawned on me ask them to speak to the Master Spirit of this place.  Something I’d ready recently and thought I’d try it one of these nights, that’s it I thought!  Ask them can I meet or speak with the Master Spirit of the Land, I’d learn in the days and weeks following that this magnificent being is well known and called the Guardian Spirit of Place, the Genius Loci.  It seemed more logical to hear it directly from the most powerful spirit of the land around here, if in fact I had their approval to build a small cabin by the creek on which are their sacred grounds.  Having asked them many tmes in the past over and over are you sure and getting same answers of “Yes” some doubts remained.  I’d thought of doing this, contacting the master of the land before to get supreme approval and eliminate doubts,  but couldn’t muster the will to push myself to do much due to stress and what seemed a lower vibration resulting from a recent series of mishaps that were tapering off a bit but still ongoing.  My thinking was that I’d been misled, wasn’t communicating as clearly as I’d thought so felt I needed some reassurance from the Genius Loci if I wasn’t on track, was I hated or being tricked, did they want me out of there.  If not then I really needed permission and some reassurance my plans to build an Earth Lodge ceremonial center, bathroom with shower stall and a small cabin to live in while I finished getting the place ready to welcome like-minded folks over to share methods and techniques I’d learned during the times of my initial workings.  No sooner as I’d finished my request to meet the Genius Loci a large mass of thick fog rapidly rolled in within seconds turning the dark forested landscape around the creek bank into a dimly luminescent wall of white vapors that ebbed and flowed sort of pulsating and while connecting with my own vapors wafting off my body and combining with theirs, radically changing shapes as it reached the height of the treetops and hoovered there to my left in front of where I’d stood.  I looked up watching the misty fog reach its destination where from the formless changing clouds began to form large very unique looking face of what appeared to be an elderly woman of ancient age and wisdom.  She began to make an appearance from the curtain of mist, very clearly and stayed during my introduction and reason for asking to meet.  This face was a large as the tops of the trees and had the countenance of power and majesty, an ancient force from long ago that still inhabits these lands.  Seems like it could have the power of life and death over man, yet seemed benevolent. 

Another photo of the “Portal” showing a Rainbow or rainbow colored prisms, an anomaly that happens on these energy lines down here. Even I use different camera or smart phone camera, same rainbow like prisms will be present in photo taken on or near these lines.

The wall of fog was now beginning to dissipate leaving only the face near the treetops remaining and what seemed to be two tall beings on either side of the face formed from the mist.  When it completely cleared out I could see what over the past year I’d come to call the Nunnehei, two of them flanking both sides of this majestic being looking down at me.  They were neatly dressed in what appeared to be traditional Cherokee styled native American buckskin pants with beaded designs of flowering vines that went up along the sides.  And as always, their looks the dead giveaway to what I was looking at, they’re exceptionally beautifully handsome Native Americans seemed to be male yet with faces only a beautiful female could have.  They answered my questions in unison with the Genius Loci by motions with their heads nodding up and down or side to side sometimes using their arms to emphasize or make sure I understood their body language.  At this point it was beginning to be overwhelming as the reality of what was unfolding was creeping into my psyche. 

At some point between here and the termination of my time with the Genius Loci, a large figured thick muscular looking body of a darker material approached us.  As it neared me it like the CLP warrior who’d offered me his hand, in one sweeping motion the hulking figure knelt on one knee before me very close to where I was sitting and reached his hand out at which time I don’t recall because the mere sight of this caused a cold chill like a lightening bolt, struck rising up from the ground up through my spine to top of my skull that seemed to cause me to momentarily blackout or lose my place.  It wasn’t out of fear I always get this sensation when spirits impact me or get too close but never with this much power.  I knew instantly what I was looking at and smiled in the dark, regained myself and induced mild trance so as to meet this eight-foot tall something giant that was uncloaking before my eyes.  When my eyes became adjusted to second sight his face which by now like old times was inches from mine except this time our initial meeting was with a smile and not the usual gatekeeper grimace used to frighten away those who may try entering their realms that may not be quite ready.  I could make out his huge head where the eyebrows, cheeks, chin area and lower jaw were outlined in this dimly lit whitish colored etheric substance.  A face to face with Tsukaloo / Kukuclede known to Cherokee.  Hairy Forest Giants, Big Elder Brothers, a race of people, not spirits.  Until tonight I’d only seen only their faces, except for a female that would come to my house.  Typically I’d only see their faces staring downstream creek bank or edge of the forest in complete darkness.  They’d approach me in the scrying chair in the wee hours in trance but more like dozing off in a quasi sleep- hypnagogic state.   Usually, I’d be startled awakened by my foot jerking, footrest pushing down, and even shocked, zapped by a sudden electrical shocking like sensation.  Happened like this so many times that I looked forward to this kind of unusual but consistent meeting near creek between around 12:00 midnight and daybreak, usually more towards the end of the night right before daybreak.  I think these are actual Yeti Beings and exist in both states of the solid and etheric body.  people we pretty much call Bigfoot, or the Sasquatch. 

It was a relief to see those titans again especially with an upfront smile.  The most beautiful heartfelt smile one can experience.  Taking my attention away for just a few moments I looked back up to the face of the Master of the Land and it had disappeared now no longer visible but the two Nunnehei were still there motioning me to go towards the portal, I felt like an ant as the beautiful giants kindly gestured me to walk towards the Creek-side rock cliff that is the doorway into their world.  Okay, everything seems to be cool and relieved to know things were on track and that I was more than welcomed there, actually wanted me to join them as we inhabit place intersected between two-dimensional realms. 

While watching the visit unfold before me as my eyes begin the focusing motions to bring on quick trance, eyes wide open, unusual decent night vision.  As they adjust and focus for vision using second sight everything turns dark in my field of vision then I can see them and landscape again.  The friendly Giant was already up inches in front of my face as my vision returned in second sight mode.  I was so overwhelmed at seeing its body so close in detail, the ground chills came on I think for just being in Awe.  I had never seen their entire body like that, they were eight foot massive beings that took my breath away seeing one of them walk up from the creek bank towards me and drop to one knee in what appeared to be some prostration like the the CLP earlier had done.  What’s up with that, maybe I’ll never know but feel it’s the upmost honor to be shown respect and kindness from beings that have no reason or need to do so.  As a human being I’m part of the problem that they (Nature) suffer from.

I walked with them to the top of the sloping creek bank and stopped in front of where my tent had been and sat in a chair facing the portal.  I wasn’t in my usual night spirits ecstatically induced high, the sky-high vibe that comes as a result of such experience. 

Another photo of the portal rock taken on a different day. Again same digital camera artifacts occur with the rainbow prisms. Hidden behind a green wall of vegetation. the large boulder to left side overhanging over the water is the threshold for the portal described in this post

I bid them farewell and sent them my appreciation and gratitude for their concern, care and kindness they’d shown me that night as it seemed a low point in my life.  Instead I received a pat on the back and a shot in the arm to keep going and not give up.  They definitely have my back and clearly shown there are alternatives to living here if one truly desires liberation from human life cycles and death.  I may take them up on it one day who knows, and would the portal (the stone rock face) open up again if I came to it and rapped on it’s hidden door, honestly I think it would for the right reasons. 

Singing Earth – Sacred Dance of the Little People “Yunwi Tsunsdi”

This post is a non-fiction, actual encounter with the Cherokee Little People known as the Yunwi Tsundi that took place in the living room of my home. Unlike most of the encounters I’ve had with them outside in the forest especially near the creek bank, this appearance was a performance of music and dance. While they were so close I could have reached out and touched them, they seemed distant and far away at the same time. I could easily see the entire performance unfold in what seemed a tribe of many men and women dancing in a rapidly rotating circle counter clockwise. In the center of this whirlwind of dancers were four elder men wearing headresses of the following animals: Black Bear, White Tailed Deer, Crow and Wolf (Coyote). They were playing the music everyone was dancing to while rotating in a clockwise circular spin while playing. Each played an instrument that was clearly visible to me as they would pause their rotation a few moments while playing their musical instrument with a passion that was contagious and would later inspire like the Muses of Greek mythology, someone without musical talent like myself to go out and purchase the same kind of instruments they were playing; the drum, flute, shakers and rattles.

Like Potamides, a female water nymph of rivers and creeks also from Greek mythology known to bestow the gift of poetry and music to some mortals mostly men who gained her favor, the spirit of this big creek had touched me in similar ways. I’d began noticing a pattern of intense writing and speaking in poem like rhyming cadences. that happened a lot after spending time in down by the creek bank. Once aware of the phenomenon I actually tested and began writing poetry there and at my home after coming back that seemed effortless and really good quality ability for someone like me who never wrote any sort of poems. After I stumbled upon how Potamides from Greek mythology I recall how excited it made me feel as more and more myths and legends from antiquity around the world were actually real and interacting with me in these modern times. I recall having fun with it, like most magical experiences I’ve had here they were basically just really fun and kept me in a light playful mood. Just like what I’d read from historical books and accounts, I’d come back to my house and every form of communication would be in rhyme like poetry, after a while I learned to use it while it was affecting my communication. Typing emails to business clients, texts or even talking was in rhyme like cadence. Often with business correspondence I’d have to retype and become mindful to not turn my letters into poetry. However with some close friends or neighbors I’d reply or compose uninhibited and noticed it would flow and rhyme effortlessly. It was humorous thinking how my neighbor would react after reading my messages or replies that would always seem to come out as rhyming poetry or riddle-like. It made me laugh at myself of how ridiculous I must sound to them as I imagined their facial expression reading my message.

Knowing the effect the water had on me with poetry, I began bringing instruments down to creek and playing out in, and to Nature. Here outdoors, I found my teacher and an audience to play to. Even I’m sure in those early days of learning to play, my music wasn’t something anything would want to listen to, I found that playing to rocks, trees, mountains and water seemed to enliven these things in ways that would bring me closer into understanding of Animism. Things we don’t ordinarily think of being alive much less having intelligent consciousness similar to my own seemed to appreciate the acknowledgment, to having someone dedicate a song to and playing to them even though off key, out of time, and some mistakes they didn’t care at all.

They (Nature Spirits) reflected back this loving energy of aliveness that is hard to describe, this began a relationship with the land that I can only describe as falling in love with the land and All I shared it with excluding none. Over the course of time I’d learn all that was shared and get to know everything in ever increasing detail from the sand Fairies to the Forest Giants. The small and large from both the seen and hidden realms around these parts of this sacred landscape.

Within a month’s time from the vision of their performance that lit my fire, The Magic of that night began to bleed over into my everyday ordinary life, something that would continue happening here more and more as what seemed a way to confirm the visions, encounters and interactions with so many of these kinds of beings widely described by the Cherokee Indians to James Moody. When I asked for some sign of a visions validity or some far out answer to a query that I doubted, they without fail would setup events to happen the next day in my affairs that once began to happen almost like in slow motion these astrologically high odds against these seeming interrelated corresponding events by coincidence. Statistically speaking it was more likely I was really conducting intelligent interaction with these inter dimensional people, the odds being equal to winning the lottery approximately equal to the odds that I was just delusional having hallucinations. Without these “signs” I’d typically receive for validity checks, not sure how far I would have delved into this new life I was living as a “Seer”. I have many other examples of this phenomenon of having confirmation signs that left no doubt I was actually dealing with something out of this world.

No sooner had I got up and running with playing the instruments I’d seen played by the four musicians, the pelts or animal hides, the same kinds worn began dropping into my reality as if by magic. First I received the skins of two Black Bear, and a few days later two whitetail bucks with antlers, both from local hunters. A couple weeks later would bring a crow, whose final resting place was behind my home in the middle of the dirt road that goes down to the creek. Just laying their having dropped from the sky or trees above with no signs of injury, wounds, sickness or disease. While I often wondered what to make of these sacred animals coming to me in death corresponding to the experience I’d had just a few weeks earlier, the sense of magic was dissipating a bit as I realized there was one missing the Wolf or Coyote pelt worn by the rattle player didn’t show up along with the others. This left doubts that this was all just a coincidence and if they were in fact some gifts related to that encounter why would it stop here leaving this one animal out. (The fourth pelt, from a healthy female Coyote I found late at night within 1 year to the date +/1 about a week) She was still warm but cooling down laying there on the frozen road at the top of the last mountain I had to cross heading home one night. Felt I’d give her a a decent burial and keep the pelt for use for player of rattles. This cemented my mind to the building blocks of this new reality.

After accepting the bear hides, picking them up were so heavy and thick. I’d never skinned a black bear before and worried this may be out of scope. Despite having some doubts I was faced with the reality of having to flesh out the hides, the dirty work I didn’t look forward to. I could not let their remains be thrown away or left to rot. Getting back down to Earth and the reality of what kind of job I’d just signed up for, leaving me no option but to accept their remains give them a proper burial after keeping what I considered “gifts” or their pelts,wings, antlers and skins. Somehow it would be my responsibility to not only flesh out their hides and soft tan them but incorporate them in my own being while playing, composing and recording Native American style music similar to the song they’d played for me that night at my house. It was my duty to transmute their death into life by performing in and playing music in their honor, to somehow bring awareness to people the mystery and sacredness of All life, and to bring the mystery and majesty of each of these amazing animals like in the days of old when the Cherokee captivated audiences dancing and playing music to Nature, neighboring Clans and fellow tribesmen and women. I sang traditional Cherokee prayers and songs to their lifeless hides heavy soaked in coagulated blood and this blubber. The senseless killing of the majestic rulers of the mountains just for a few pounds of meat, would propel my emotions somewhere between rage and intense sorrow. I grew up hunting myself and could not condemn these guys for killing these bears, like in my case the heart once opened and becoming empathic, simply seeing things clearly as they really are will inspire a diehard hunter to hang up his guns for life. This is how I thought, I could help change to occur to assist in opening hearts and minds from playing some of the Bear songs and prayers sung by Cherokee and other tribes. Two prayer songs are shown in photos below. I read them aloud in company of locals who had kin who hunted bear and could feel the energy of tears in some of the women who’d came over to visit that evening. I thought wow, how powerful when upon finishing could also see their eyes reddened and glazed from welted tears. The story doesn’t end here about the bears, our connection runs deep and equally fascinating tale (but true) accompany this sharing about the musical abilities clothed in the skins of my forest brothers and sisters. I will write about this later in next post.

Pretty much all of my life I’ve been a music fan and enjoyed listening to the performances of various artists from a wide range of genres. At my age, about to begin the Sun Set in one’s life, the back stretch in my mid-fifties, never would thought that I would be a…the “musician” playing music that I would listen to or felt comfortable performing for others. The “Others”, oh yeah forgot to mention, my biggest fans! Nature Spirits, Elemental, Gnomes, Sylphs, Undines, Salamanders the Sun, the Water, Wind, Trees, plants, even bugs and of course all the beautiful rocks and sand.

The following in more or less tongue in cheek account of myself playing to these inter-dimensional beings in appreciation for bringing about this incredible inspiration that lit me on fire to begin learning to play these instruments wearing some of the pelts or headdresses I’d made since then.

I’d sometimes fantasize about doing a live performance to all that I’ve met over the past few months in a concert displaying my appreciation by playing what I’d been taught wearing the pelts I’d received. It was entertaining to myself and made me laugh at myself at such ridiculous ideas. I’d rehearse in my mind for a day that never came, at least not yet to the scale in my imagination that goes a little bit like this; Some come to hear me play out of tune and out of timing just for a few laughs I’m sure, watching me under a cathedral of stars perched upon an ancient boulder carved and smoothed by Water over great periods of time now situated beside the whitewater rapids like a stage platform, a natural outdoor arena a “Gorge”ous” gathering site with Grandstand seating reaching the upper most tops of the steep rocky cliff walls that were packed with unbelievable numbers of the dwellers of the back side of the veil Those brave Souls who intermingle here in the middle world via Water and Stone Portals. Seating getting scarce as they arrive in surprisingly large groups for tonight’s featured performance yours truly-Shaman trance beat band performance by their select local human “friend” and neighbor, sometimes comedian and brunt of mischievous pranks and trickster sort of not so funny (at least not for me) practical jokes they seem to love watching. But tonight is my big chance, I’m gonna show them I’m not their punching bag, that I am a talented artist much better left alone to produce pleasing notes to higher standards of Fae beings music appreciation reserved for most sophisticated Fae ears.

Hope I will have repackaged myself as a popular nature rock star I thought to myself and get out of the role of the only one around getting tricks played on me. But I knew in most cases why I was looking for a set of car keys I’d just laid down only to turn my head and find them missing. The nature of these sort of beings is erally something else. They are on one hand highly civilied and cultured even more so than most folks I know, however have an almost primal reaction for forgeting some etiquette, or offending one even ever so slightly. One minute very kind, smiling everything is cook then like turn on a dime, flip their lid, sort of like a wild animal startled or penned they’d react to things they don’t like that croosed them. One in particular that I’m guilty myself of and accumulating too many infractions is a no-no that is discursiveness, mindlessness, not being grounded, focused in the present moment which they feel gives them leadway to “teach” me to take my mind off subject, to slow down, breath slower and most of all not blow my lid at loosing my keys after fifteen minutes of looking.

Instead, tonight I will present to them all, a new improved version of myself (or at least a work in progress) a one of a kind, one-man show inspired by the all time favorite band, everybody’s favorite…”The Yunwi Tsundi four member Shaman jam band”… Actually I have to thank them for giving me a break, a chance to cut my teeth musically among so many discerning Fae beings. I can hear them now, “who!?!…the pale faced wannabe Cherokee is gonna make his debut after having only one years experience? what!?… playing shamanic native American groove music him, yeah right bring some popcorn and some small rocks old stale fruit to throw at him, this ought to be good at least for a few laughs”.

A true prodigy musical rags to riches story. Before being gifted with the talent and inspiration to collaborate with the mythical and legendary Cherokee Little People Four Man Shaman Band the only musical instruments this can’t-keep-a-beat Moon eyed white devil could play was a pair of sticks to a ta ta tee tee ta in first grade school music class. Now a part-time addition and no doubt comic accent to an otherwise seething, serious beat that makes one bob a head and tap a foot. A repetitive, hypnotic pleasant beat that’ll put ya in a trance and have you trippin in the azure bluish light of the Underworld before you know what hit ya! You’ll slipshot into the other side of the Veil so fast you’ll be wondering what happened. The Gaijin Hakujin will attempt to play all instruments himself…he is the backup drummer, flutist, shakers and rattles man for all time favorite s Nature Jam band the Yunwi Tsundi, the Cherokee Little People Music Fae Fest.

Yes I was living the good life, a comedian and a stone rock star a rising celebrity among The hidden folk, Seating themselves from the waters side all the way up along the old Appalachian canyon walls of disintegrating stone, the majority of arriving music fans of the other side of the Veil, a Spirit procession that uses the properties of water as a portal or shortcut inland like a cross between a Japanese bullet train and a teleportation machine. All awhile I’m trying like a multi armed Hindu Deity attempting to play in the darkness before nocturnal creatures our two, four, six, eight, legged friends and neighbors, during the wee hours when the Spirits fly in their Etheric Clouds, like families headed for a picnic in the park or dinner at the famous all you can eat buffet after Sunday church service begins filling up the place as they pour in to get best picnic spots and seating.

Despite our diverse Cosmic essences bodies of high vibrational blinding light down to some of the lowest denser critters like yours truly, yep an Ambassador of the Human three dimensional realm beings, gaseous walled membrane flesh and blood bodied beings, I proudly represent all from the third dimensional realms. All of us, both the seen and unseen, is in some way, degree or another all intertwined, interconnected parts of something, a whole. The whole of this vast living planet ecosphere we call home. Mother of all~!… Gaia. The more I connect in clean and clear open hearted Love for her and my fellow Earthlings, brothers and sisters, flora and fauna… I’m at last beginning to feel my connection with Mom, healing old traumas and wounds of childhood and now have become clearly aware of the Mother of structure, form, crystallization, of all living, all dead things and Spirit Father limitlessness love with the seething energies of Fire Life force Plasma concealed in cool white vapors of Ether. We all meet in the bossom of Gaia, Mother Earth, Our common thread we all share, that which reared us up, nurtured, fed and in our case as humans (clothed us).

I hug the trees as a make my way to the creek to a carved stone stage, and the dryads jump out of their trees to facetiously scream like fans do for my autograph and for a groupie-like rendezvous with me after concert performance ends and do what tree nymph groupies do or in this case tree nymphs aka Dryads are the master crafts-women, highly skilled among other things in making all varieties of wood, soft and hard wood. As I tune the flute and tighten the drum head cords I hear shouting voices requesting my first song , the latest hit called the “circumambulation of thunder circle” a tune which basically describes the first night They, the Cherokee Little people came to my place and did their Forest Spirits-hidden Peoples #1 hit titled “Spirit Chaser” . Like a nature themed MTV music video. Two circles of dancers and players spinning in opposite directions, an inner circle spinning clockwise; the players four ancient medicine men. And an outer circle of dancers spinning and dancing wider shins, or counterclockwise comprised of two dozen or so villagers set the stage that could have been broadcast on an eighties era prime time MTV debut for some British band and no one would have noticed the difference.

In my living room the night they appeared and made their debut first time show in hundreds of years to one of the children of men!…No, not of their own kind but among the most disliked two legged to ever roam the surface of Earth, the Moon Eyed White devil. Did I hear just hear one call me a white devil!? I thought. “How will this hairless, hybrid, the redheaded stepchild of Mother Earth, her “other” two leggeds, pull off playing with one band member, a solo performer?” “He’ll never come close” Only our kind plays quality seasoned celestial sounds of we know and appreciate”, I thought I heard some of them saying among themselves.

That amazing evening they played for me in my home set the standard for the type of music genre they prefer and more so why. The inner circle players total of four elders medicine men. Outward facing back to back, each adorned from head to toe, their animal spirit totem expressed in their dance and music style. One by one would stop their circumambulation de sol, playing their best without missing a beat, with all their soul, would dance and play just for me the most groovy-eargasm tune and beat I think I’ve ever heard. A one-time show as far as I know so absorbed it all in my seating, sofa chair in VIP first row in the living room of all places. Their driving clockwise rotation was bringing down deities from the higher god realms of the upper world.

This however was not my first rodeo with these most esteemed musicians; friends and neighbors. Before this grand unforgettable night of Fae Native American Style Music, we had met dozens of times in the densely canopied Summer foliage cover, in near complete darkness of the Pisgah National forest, my back yard, creek side…dancing to JBL Bluetooth speaker blaring really good Professor Trance albums. I wish there had been some way of recording at least one of those powwows. I went from not being able to carry a tune but loved music to carrying instruments that I would play together into the forest at night or around twilight. Of course, ideally it would have been nice or better to take someone with me but there was never any soul, company or guests willing to experience this new way to party with my new friends. And honestly for the life of me, to this day still can’t wrap my mind around and understand who wouldn’t want to be out here with us hanging out with music, dance and smoking tobacco. Maybe it’s because I’m the sort of person who jumps in before thinking, a foolhardy person he said, according to the good Rabbi with a look of contempt mentioning the word Aries, that I’d found on Youtube. Maybe it’s true but I’d become aware of this and tried toning it down a notch or two and to think before impulsively doing something. I would jump at the opportunity to go meet these most interesting and amazing beings I’d think to myself. If someone invited me, I’d be first in line to try it had I been given a chance or an invitation such as I’ve extended to many folks. Where are people like this, am I the only one, maybe a bit crazy even!? Over the years, I’ve had dozens of people here interested in connecting and working with these inter dimensional beings however most would prefer not to go out and connect with them together with me…even more so no way by themselves. I never understood that, maybe never will. So I do what I do typically alone by myself, however being alone by ones self in these old forests late at night when nocturnal predators prowl and lost souls, the dead make their way through these parts may make some folks think twice. After all what if these “so-called friends and good neighbors are just imaginary friends then I would truly be alone yes, but never lonely. As it turns out fortunately it’s like having flesh and blood friends and allies waiting for me or knowing that when I call, or summon them in my usual loud honorific Japanese (because it sounds Native American) “Ooh Shizen no ki Wa, Anatasama shitsurei shimasu desuga, Moshi tobacco Wo Suushitain to ongaku de Odorooka!?!, Watakushi ha, Anatasama no tomodachi, Esteban to Moshimasu ga, Dozo yoroshiku Onegaishimasu, Asoubo!!”at some of these gatherings is beyond words and rivals orgasmic pleasures of the flesh.

It’s an unreal ecstasy tinged feeling of joy mixed with some tensity of the infant stage of panic or fear, sort of like the feeling one gets boarding a roller coaster, but in this case most always fear is replaced by love, panic by true peace, trusting love and joy seldom felt all at once, and seldom among my fellow human folds. It’s really weird but I have rolled like this since early childhood, an Original Social Distancer from way back, like an OG, Or in this Case OSD. It was a slant towards a solo lifestyle in nature early on in life and her juicy creations instead of the drab house of cards built by man in a reality to me a kin to a something as temporal as a dream. As a boy I very much recall the passage of time, and how it took my favorite pets over the years friends coming and going and most of all the loss of beloved grand parents. So it isn’t a surprise I ended up out here in the boonies, but here, in this case I don’t think that I never saw this coming, that I’d be in a relationship sort of like a Taibhsear (one who sees spirits of nature, the dead and the Fae) in such a tight close bond with these incredible beings. I’m still running around in the woods alone at my age like I’d do anytime let loose as a small boy old enough to walk. Somethings don’t change. That kid was still inside me, just as curious and playful as ever. New types of friendships made with the transition of the Aeon of Pisces that gives room to nurture and grow relations between people and the many assorted otherworldly people now happening in the birth of the new Aeon of Aquarius. Surely I’m not the only one out here having these sort of mind-blowing interactions with these Myths! Where are the “others” where is my tribe of fellow Faery Seers?

This is the truth, I was “normal” when I came here! This is the part of my story that’s so hard to describe to anyone. Kind of like trying to describe an orgasm to someone who’s never experienced it before, nearly impossible to explain this, what I do here to others. Yeah so for now it’s pretty much impossible. So it leaves me mostly on a solo-venture, by myself in doing this sort of workings with the Spirit (energetic vibrational frequency Etheric beings) World for the most part. Admittedly I’ll have to say, that sometimes it gets to me at times, like I feel very alone with my otherworldly neighbors and friends that I often find myself asking this question am I a ghost myself living in one of my light bodies unaware of my physical death in the middle world!? So far no, I’m still here in the flesh at time of this blog post. In those moments of uncertainty of my status, I have to breath hot air on my wrist and a little pinch to remind myself nope, I’m still alive among the human-animal realms in Middle World. Anyways I’m glad to be here and can’t imagine myself being anywhere but here in Western North Carolina deep in the Appalachian mountains that I call home.

Okay can someone steer the author back to the subject, the crux of the story that I’m sure many a reader with little time can withstand the divergent tangents, for this I offer my apologies and a carrot that these digressions strung together will make sense in totality of a story fit for entertaining a King well maybe if my writing skills are up to par! After or what appeared to be more of a vision of a dance and music sung/ chanted and played by these most extraordinary inter-dimensional people up until the evening of this very inspirational gathering that would forever mark a change in the path of my life from someone who has never played any musical instruments. To becoming one, a musical artist blessed by Potomides herself the spirit of water the bestower of the gift of poem, song and wordsmith upon those who frequent her banks spending time there letting her waters caress the mind, cleansing wash as doubt worry and fears flushed out float downstream leaveing peace and calm. She maybe sees in this one someone who respects her, and her curvy body of flowing water as an equal. Someone like many guests I’ve had here, enjoy scouting her banks and depths for any litter or scraps of garbage, in an ongoing effort to keep our Rivers, creeks and streams clean and safe for life to one day occupy. Maybe she thinks I’d become the guy would come along a write songs about how about lets all stop polluting the water we drink, you know it’s how they work, very give and take. I would not dare consider myself as one ordained and deemed worthy to receive such gifts however I can attest and confirm for the record hanging around water will make a man become a poet even if he doesn’t know it. More accurately saying what a person like me would be called besides a musician, a talented musician is humbly referred to as maybe a musician in training because I have a hard time accepting the fact that I’m actually becoming or have become dare I say, pretty good enough to enjoy at least my own music and proud enough of myself to even write such on the matter.

How it began. It started one evening shortly after dark inside my home. This is nothing new for since I had been working with them down below my home along the banks of a big Creek any night that the weather was favorable you’d find me outside in the woods sometimes till break of dawn. I was out there mostly interacting in mind-speak (mental telepathy) with the mandatory celebratory circular style dancing. I also use the dancing to shake off the cold damp shivers being in a receptive mode of hypnogognic trance induces after twenty minutes or so of non-doing non thinking state of reception and high awareness. They seemed to know when I needed to get up and get blood pumping throughout my body, activity, fire, seemingly amused how sometimes I’d dance so hard I’d bout break a sweat..other times I very much enjoy dancing and especially learning from them as they were at some point each night teaching me different types of dances and what why they’re used for. Because I’m a one at a timer Claire, I can see but not hear, Hear but not see, and so on, they would use gestures like forming an “X” with their forearms to mean stop, or not correct, or some hand gestures and signalling as well. So the night that they appeared in my home they seem smaller and more distant more so than they typically appear in an average two and a half to three foot tall usual selves, short but proportional very Native American inter-dimensional beings. Mostly I found them to be very attractive and very Native American, however I’ve got glimpses of their faces up close when smoking tobacco and some of their faces almost take my breath away for a moment as what I can only best describe as obviously off, very elfish. It’s those moments I remind myself this is the real deal, take a slow deep breath, smile and treat them as equals to those whose features seem more normal to me. When I’m out in the woods just the Little People usually getting together with some offering of tobacco and honey cakes, some dancing and hey it couldn’t get any better than this I’ve caught myself thinking at times.

In regards to dancing that seems to be something they like most Fae, they enjoy, no they LOVE it but not only that, it’s a technique used by their kind to travel up or down the Axis Mundi between worlds, let’s say it’s their Fae-powered teleportation apparatus. Instead of wires and gadgets, they merely dance, laugh and enjoy each other circling dancing their way between vibrational frequencies of being, kind of like FM radio stations one would dial in on or tune in to a favorite station. Here in the Middle World we’d be in the middle of the dials spectrum or range of limits for some three dimensional action with all life on Earth or they can easily raise vibes more to catapult their dancing group into the vast heavens of the upper World, the God Realms. I learned this from them and use dance and musical rapture to slingshot my body’s vibrational energy from the usual thick, heavy dross of Middle World life into something way more exciting in the Lower World, Upper World or the fringe boundaries between our middle world with the intersecting upper and lower regions of this spherical matrix. I must for myself in order to raise my bodies vibrational frequency get happy feet and muster up as much love from my heart that loves with a clean and clear open adoration of All and purity like the golden heart of a child.  Its not that easy and I have to muster up quite a bit of effort to make it happen. I learned earlier that same year that I must maintain a higher vibration than I normally exist in unfortunately such as one would in base consciousness, example would be the dross of the seemingly “normal” dull day which is in fact, anything….I repeat anything but normal this so-called experience of life and universe.. so I try not falling back into dark gloomy outlook.

Listening to good music and dancing was just but one of many of the techniques I’d devised for myself after learning it from them. The ole faithful way of getting”there” when other techniques failed to launch my vibrational frequency into the higher stratospheres of gods and angels. It’s for sure an energy, the kind required to commune and interact with these magical people. And as with all simple keep it simple stupid (KISS) ways of hacking life, most are abandoned because they’re unbelievable. Intelligent people scoff at the idea that merely breathing slower for five minutes can obliterate a migraine, calm nerves, lower blood pressure and so on, and only to find them paying money hand over fist at doctors for petroleum pills by the purveyors of stolen plant wisdom replaced, imitated synthesized snake oil big pharma that has a magic bullet for whatever your complaint, you name it that basically does nothing but teases the symptoms of pain, suffering and discomfort out like an ever thinning but never breaking teasing out a metal wire. A tether back to try more or other pills, invasive operations or surgeries that are for profit, unnecessary and not fit for a farm animal to have to undergo such measures as people in this example will to to such extremes when a free, holistic, natural usually plant based cures and medicines that are here for our use. This is the specialty of the “Little People”, one of their main areas that the shaman/medicine man would seek them out for were which plants to use for this disease or symptom of discomfort suffered by their fellow tribesmen. However in modern times, brainyacks of all strata of intelligent retardation would never think of giving something so simple a shot at fixing their aliment much less giving an open mind which more so than not is a common denomentaor factor as to why people don’t seek folk cures in self healing. the patient will use it, at best just treats the adverse symptom for a spell only to have it return spend more money for profit pain and suffering. Even scientist in a lab would scoff at the idea that dancing in circles is a better vehicle for inter-dimensional travels than building some multi-million dollar teleportation machine. A good example is if you think about it, big tech, corporations for the past century and longer have been blasting our pineal glands with many types of quiet weapons for such silent wars that seem to target the minds of men and women, removing forever any chance of using the god-given communications device we’re born with, that when healthy and tuned properly communicates faster than the speed of light, spans light years in seconds, doesn’t need wires or antenna towers, or payment plans. They’ve taken this ability from us and sold it back to us for example as the new improved iPhone666, etc. An inorganic copy of the real deal. Junk trinkets traded for gold.

I think a lot of the interrelations I’ve had over the years with the Fae is their contempt at being robbed, lied to and cheated by these types of people. Now perhaps regular people, men and women from all walks kept in perpetual mental retardation without opportunity for growth and ascension like normal life has. Not sure about you, but I didn’t come here to serve at a constant kindergarten level adult existence, and further more certainly didn’t come here to become a slave consumer cog in the gears that float the airships of the demigods, the 1% that float around up there upon the backs of the rest of us 99%ers who live lives of poverty, strife, restriction, old-age, sickness and death. We aren’t guinea pigs to test weapons or soft-kill de-pop foods and consumables on, or are we as I seem to be the only one complaining about it. Okay this could be considered an authentic digressing diatribe that is not so related to subject of music. There is more to reveal here on these sort of topics but will keep tighter guidelines on topic of the post.

One more time, on a Friday evening in my living room I had just sat down and upon noticing the typical signs of their presence such intense sparks or light pinpoint flashes out of my peripheral vision just as my etheric smoke wafting up from my body while it vibrates rapidly and more thickly denser and intense as if my body may burst into flames at any second like spontaneous human combustion! They too have a etheric body in which they appear to travel to and from their underworld abodes.  As they arrive within proximity of myself I notice that my own body’s Ether either is pulsating, thick dense white plumes bellowing upwards while pulsating to some unknown tune or frequency basically matching theirs doing the same the point where mutually our etheric smoke merges, intermingles, and this is nothing short of pure ecstatic joy! It is very hard to describe with just words in fact likely it’s impossible. For anyone who’s familiar with this sort of thing maybe it would be easier to swallow soon as all the smoke clears then they’d be seen in full view, there standing in place of the white clouds or smoke -like vapors they rode into town on now take on form. Appearing like a colored hologram version of their selves very real for the most part. A body doesn’t matter, it’s the soul or spiritual essence that guides the container or body it is riding in on or attached to. As such I could carry on an intelligent conversation with a fleck of pulsating energy the size of an ant and have a more real sensation of actually talking to someone or something more real than most people these days. Then again my pool of people is thin and few living out here like some social distancing hermit extraordinaire but what few I have in my inner circle are as real as it gets and like gold, are valuable and forever rare.

Manifesting in the above photo shows a rather full bodied large “man” standing in my driveway as the smoke begins to clear. And by smoke I mean its etheric body or spirit… or more clearly descriptive adjective “white smoke” or white vapors white streaks appearing out of thin air is what differentiates ether from fog or mist. Ether is the backbone of form! It is the stuff our bodies use to build cells, tissues, bones, flesh and blood. I’ve read somewhere some indigenous tribes called it the vapor of blood. Zoom in on the photo above as there is quite a gathering amassing of assorted individuals traveling with the big guy in the foreground.
They Arrive in the Usual “Traditional Ways” Ether or in Spirit. Shown a being coming in for landing as two larger ones wait squatting down below it awaiting it’s descent into their strong arms. I fondly call it “White Smoke” cause that’s what it looks like and since what seemed to be some degree of censoring the subject matter, took over a year of internet searching to positively identify it as the Etheric Body, Ether, or Spirit, the Crown or Corona at the Pinnacle or top uppermost point of the pentagram five pointed star. The lower four points corresponding to the elements in reverse order, Fire, Air, Water and Earth. Don’t reckon I’ll never figure out the need to censor such topics like pineal gland (even my spellchecker outs it as a legit word with no suggestions, lol) and Ether. But it’s okay, think I’m beginning to have some ideas such as it gives those in the know a level up to expand their minds into untold countless intersecting realms where information (which is power) can be accessed and given freely for the taking. Until the day comes when this is common knowledge for all (and that day is coming) I call it White Smoke and know more as I learn more via experience and interacting with it. Notice the vertical struts and supports squarely set around the decending Queen, also there is a track like platform along the entire bottom or right above the top of ground of some type of material appearing from the White Smoke!

Getting back to this story, on that Friday night I was on the sofa in my living room meditating in a trance and then it happened something catching my eye brought my attention over slightly to the right of where I was sitting and what I saw would inspire me the very next day to go out and buy a drum, a flute, shakers and rattles. I may have had only two arms and not much time however I was able to teach myself each instrument and how to play them individually and together to make music similar to the sounds I’d heard that night. I can almost play all simultaneously but the flute just makes it near impossible. It didn’t take long to figure that out, how-to make music myself. I got rid of the velcro straps, strings, springs, and foot pedals to investing in a loop recorder. Now I was beginning to make real music that surprised my own ears at times. The night of the great Cherokee Little People live concert was just about as unbelievably super juicy of an paranormal experience at that time that I feel I’d ever had. I have noticed and become very amused at what seems to be the way that this experiential knowledge of working with these hidden people of the forest comes and seems to outdo the one experience prior.   Almost as if there’s some sort of competition going on to try and outdo in magnitude the crazy unbelievable surealness of each subsequent experience. In other words just when I say to myself in the moment that these sort of experiences is unfolding “boy, this one really takes the cake”, sure as a sunrise the next one typically will outdo in shock and awe factor, off the charts amazing encounter than the one previous or before it.  So often I ponder how can they do this, there’s no way possible to get anymore amazingly extraordinary but they will find a way to out do previous ones.  

This experience was no different, the night that I became so in-spirited that I set out to lean how to play native american instruments, song and chants ever since.  There in the middle of my living room floor atop a rounded persian rug were what appeared to be a whirl wind cyclone spinning in place and two very tall Nunnehei seated on either side of me as if to shatter the unfolding vision by way of self doubt I asked them, ” What’s up with just the upper half of your body, couldn’t fit it inside my modest home? It didn’t make sense and when an anomaly occurs like this it can send a vision into obliteration so I was compelled to ask them. The one to my right spoke and said he is in fact complete, not missing any body parts assured me he was sitting cross-legged on the dirt of the basement below the living room floor. A quick calculation guesstimate confirmed this distance and his height would in fact his upper torso would likely appear this way to me his beautiful face and jet black hair nearly touching the ceiling while his lower torso and legs permeate the floor as if there was no floor or home atop the Sidhe while seated cross-legged. He told me he was quite comfortable as if he mistook my asking as my concern for his seating arrangement and comfort. More than likely being facetiously fun lighthearted pleasant yet in stone faced seriousness only the Red Man could pull off.

I think to myself, what in the world?” Then I see with clarity as third eye rods and cones began moving to the vibrational frequencies of ultraviolet light spectrums powerful enough to pass through my thick skulll and still be energetically strong enough to get them bouncing. Then an overlay, an image of the extraordinary transposed over the two usual suspects projected field of vision, that is, the usual two eyes that state back at me in a mirror…and wallah beautiful clairvoyance! Lovely clairvoyance kicks in and I see now the outward parameter of this counter clockwise tasmanian devil-like spinning motion traditionaly known as a banishing motion to evict and repel evil spirits or lower vibratory beings. The accompanying tribe was full blaze spin widdershins keepin the bad out long enough so as to allow the four players spinning clock wise to draw in benevolent beings, gods, and angels, helper ancestors, etc. before me yet distant while the other central core like spoke of a wheel kept rolling in a clockwise spin while dancing and playing.  It was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen in my life even casting a shadow over memories of blue oyster cult concerts I’d attended growing up which compared to this gig, wouldn’t hold a light to in comparison.  The music was the grooviest beat and rhythm I’d heard in my life.  I felt I was living in pre-settlement America just them and myself enjoying some time together and feeling like one of their own as they’d pause and somehow get up close in my face with their intensity as each played those instruments like a Maestro.  I really appreciate their presence and the time they give to do stuff like this together, who needs people when you got these “Good Neighbors!” I’m being factitious, I love people equally as much as anything else on this planet.
This central core was composed of four players, musicians who after playing intensely to make a point they’re playing but serious about the music and dance. Together is was a tightly choreographed well oiled one unit of sound and movement totally otherworldly yet very Natively Earthy at the same time.

Each doned an animal pelt of equally small proportions. Worn over their head as a headress showing their Animal Spirit or Totem. The Drummer spotted a black bear headress with eagle and turkey feathers. The Flute player sported outstretched Raven or crow wings with central quartz crystal held at middle eye with crow’s feet. The shakers player who kept a driving beat or pace to the hypnotizing composition wore a whitetail bucks pelt over his face with about 8 point antlers along with what seemed to be turkey feathers and finally the fourth player of the scratchy hard driving rattles left little doubt as the only one who even so much as gave a hint of a smile but moreso the sky grin of a trickster adorned with a coyote pelt with horned antlers and eagle feathers with tassels. Silver coned tin bells of various lengths and sizes made a very Faery like cadence steady, heavy stomps highlighted with glittery bell sounds as they danced around in the central circle playing America’s original rock-‘n’-roll! If I were to stop here most viewed or readers would be perfectly content and would agree that it’s a once in a lifetime chance to be a part of this sacred union. However I will finish this story the way it officially ended or was concluded at least in my mind and tie in the additional information on the bears for another related blog post.

The next day I awoke and began shopping around for Native American instruments more specifically like the ones I’d seen that night. In short time I had each one at my hands the drums, Flute and rattles and shakers. Now, there’s nothing special about this. Still this can be concluded as a guy with a wild imagination concocting a story from hallucinations inside my head. However with one Moon or month of this encounter, having purchased instruments and making some degree of racket, much to the dismay of inhabitants of the woods around my place there came like oftentimes something of great importance is like this is backed up or supported by the usually dull (comparatively speaking) happenings of ordinary daily life. In this case a distant neighbors brings two black bear skins freshly killed and cleaned. I asked him what they usually do with the hides and all, throw em away he replied, we don’t keep them.

It broke my heart to see these two mountain giants killed for a few pounds of meat, it seemed so senseless and for the first time an animal loosing it’s life in such a way for meat was murder or equal to the loss of a human life, such a waste of such a majestic being of solid thick 600 lbs of bone and muscle with kevlar skin covering a layer of three to four inch thick whale blubber for warmth. Oh and does the thread wind it’s way through the tale, a true account by the way in my daily life from this multilayered gift of magical injection into my day to day “normal” life that just keeps on unfolding and giving it’s mystery of mysteries magick. I will come back to my bear brother and sister bears later before closing this post. So I took the skins and thoughts of the huge job that lay before me of fleshing them out in preparation of two soft-tanned bear cloaks nearly seized me from action at the scope and enormity of the work I was about to undertake. Hey this is what one of the players wore, what a coincidence I recall thinking. Then two days later same hunter and his wife stop by and ask me do I want these two feet hides and antlers, they were like the bears fresh kills and skinned for meat. They’d thrown the beautiful antlers and hides away for scavengers and worms to consume. And I thought, wow what a coincidence, just like the buck antlered headress worn by rattles player. Okay congratulations, you’re starting to get an idea or see how the esoteric affairs bleeds into the exoteric affairs of daily life are you not? I recall thinking this is a bizarre coincidence,and now the whitetail bucks!? Well it didn’t end there.

It saddened me to see one of these majestic tricksters permanently grounded like this. I’ve had good times feeding them year after year here at my place and have got to known some of their families, even one I call “grandpa” a white headed crow from age. This one was in all appearances healthy and showed no signs of bullets, lead shot, arrow, internal injuries, nothing, weird. Nevertheless I gave him/her a proper burial with the respect this unusually gifted in second sight sacred big bird of Oden and Priests-Magicians and sages throughout time have revered as the top Avian Tricksters! This little guy could tell volumes of Ether, Spirits and the underlying Matrix and it’s inhabitants of both seen and unseen beings and worlds nested within worlds.

A week or so later all still within one Moon, a black object lying in the middle of the dirt road that leads to the creek behind my place had ensnared my curiosity. Instantly I recognized that “blackness” and was sure it was a crow, but what in the world is a crow just sitting there, is it sick or dead. As I approached it became obvious, it was dead and apparently fell from a tree above or the sky to this spot where it’s body rests at my feet. Now this is an omen and beyond coincidence. As such I went to collect things for a burial and ceremony. I asked the forest Spirits was it okay to to take it’s wings and feet for use in a sacred headdress like I’d seen. My clear quartz crystal plummet told me what I already knew, that yes this dear Crow this lovely being of the Airs gave me it’s body as a gift. I carefully washed it and prepared a wrapping of roses from my garden before removing it’s wings, something I was a bit squeamish about doing. After a very thorough amateur autopsy and thorough inspection I could find no wounds, injury, apparent disease nor old age. It was odd but in light of the interconnected ongoing string of coincidences it was no surprise to me. I really love all animals that live around here but got a soft spot in my heart for the crow’s and always feed them scrapes or good leftover whenever I have them. Now I had the materials to make the flute players headdress which leaves one more. By this time I didn’t want anymore as the dead bodies were beginning to pile up. I had taken on tremendous responsibility by accepting these remains as to let the rot, spoil or slip into disentigration would not be wise so scrambling I went to Lowe’s and bought a small chest freezer. I waited till the month turned into the next for the fourth animal to fall from heaven into my lap the way the others did. Month after month came and went and it didn’t happen and as with most things, even the magically incredible gets allocated to collecting dust atop the bins and shelving like everyday things and I’d not given any further thought to a fourth surprise dead animal offering to complete , I didn’t know it at the time, but my future new bands concert attire. Transmuting the senseless murder of these precious beings and the theft of ripping their meat from their poor bones for meat when farm raised (which is simply replacing the suffering, transferring it to some other poor creature whose flesh is stolen daily in amounts totally billions of harmed souls. I don’t recall ever hearing no one ask them is it okay to take a bit or all of their flesh, much lesser even so much as a thank you. I occasionally still eat meat when the opportunity presents itself however my heart is softening faster than my stomach’s hunger pangs waves roll into the shores of emptiness.

Testing out my bear brother’s skin as it surrounds me, can’t say it helped my flute playing skills but felt I had a stronger connection to the underworld and to my own subconsciousness. I wore or put on his hide here by the waters he knew in life as a cub with mama and his siblings. I have a Cherokee song about Bears I will post at end of this blog post.
Playing some flute recordings with bear brother. However the Crow Headdress makes flute playing lighter and easier, I’ve learned new ways to play the Native American Flute while doming the Crow’s wings while even in death gently and protectively covers my crown or head’s Corona whist holding firmly a clear quartz crystal over my third eye area of forehead which helps gain clearer second sight by amplifying and helping to receive vibrational frequencies absorbed into my forehead through the skull (see photo below).
Most unique and powerful animal totem that of my beloved Crow brothers and Sisters. That which will bestow upon the wearer of it’s sacred air ascending winged feather the same above view, sky view like second sight we as grounded two leggeds miss out on unless we have a airplane or helicopter. Long range vision into the big picture, into the future even and keen abilities of seeing lower vibrational creatures that give the tell tell advances notifications of a future kill or some misfortune that will befall a person or animal that will result in it becoming dinner for the always hungry human animal realms and kingdoms a bottom up hierarchical tiered scheme of orderly feeding-scavenging, removal and cleanup of the dead and rotting remains of life. These guys help with the dirty work of waste elimination of earth a primary role of the Planet Saturn, ruler of our Solar System. Hey, it’s a tough job but somebody’s gotta do it!
Have to admit, like the player in the Little People’s spinning whirling band that evening who wore the bears pelt and played drums, the drum seemed to “fit” the vibe of the Black Bear Cloak I wore which despite being small-medium was very thick and heavy. I read that DeSoto in his early raids, rapes and thievery upon the Native America’s first peoples in one account the chief exited the mound temple standing nearly 9-10 foot tall in proportion to his height was thick massive girth not like today’s tall and very thin basket ball players. In the account written by one of his men, was given the largest of the conquistadors horses and still his feet dragged the ground. This King or Leader is described wearing at least two very large black bear cloaks as his shoulders and his arms emerged were adorned by the open mouths of two large black bears sewn together with even more bear hides to make an encompassing wrap around cold weather cloak or coat. I can imagine that and it makes me shudder and think. It makes me wonder. I was a little hyped up with the regalia and drum playing, yeah I can see myself as a shaman once up a time, even now perhaps.
Yona – the Cherokee word for Bear and a Prayer they used. I used it the night I saged and cleansed the hides before fleshing them out to dispel the lower spirits already at work in their feeding fest. I will write an account of some of the evening I spent fleshing them out and the strange occurrences that happened while I was doing the dirty work. Wow..!!!
A little creek-side warm up Shamanic drumming session played in honor and dedication to anything or anyone around me seen or unseen who likes it. It’s amazing what playing your heart out to please trees, rocks, dirt and water will do, what kind of effects follow such levels of giving (that is as long as they like my drumming solo skills) Woods be coming alive like you aint never seen before, at least for me it is this way. I give em my best performance. In the photo you can see spring loaded hoof rattles, bells and foot pedal shaker. If SHTF sooner than later maybe I could etch out a living as a busker in the down town area of inner cities playing a one man band, but prefer the foot-pedal controlled dubber or loop recorder.

Fast forward for brevatity one year later to within a week of the “dead animal Moon” from the previous year finds me driving home late, early a.am across a iced over road what do I see as a round the curve, a beautiful but dead female freshly killed Coyote. I slowed down and pulled off the shoulder where it was safe and walked over to her. I felt sorry for her and her pack most likey missing her, a beautiful healthy not yet momma but large juvenile adult. As I always do I had a word, said my piece and asked permission to take her pelt and give her a decent burial, promising like the others to use their hides to transmute their senseless deaths into something positive and affect change in a way conducive to their future generations and to Nature as a whole, something that at that point I was becoming painfully aware needed some tender loving care and swift attention. The planet, the great Mother was dying, at the hands of her ahrrent, reviled by most inhabitants, living beings of water air, and land both four legged and the other two leggeds traditionanaly have not been too well thought of Gaia’s unusual “redheaded-stepchildren”, the sons and daughters of men, wearing the skins of all their other brothers and sisters. Dancing in darkness, unaware clothed in the skins of so many fellow Earthlings our beloved Fauna, animals, dancing the cosmic dance of creation and destruction, humankind steps into the scene, the rest is history. I wear their skin in somber remembrance and sincere reverence for these precious beings, their lives taken sooner than scheduled in such brutal profane ways imaginable. Yet with alchemy this madness can be transmuted… turning lead into gold.

Playing to Nature during the day, a few hours before the Twilight comes.
Offerings and blessings to my Crow Friend, Rest in Peace my Silver Winged Clever Angel! Strange how this one came, not by the hand of a human, just fell outta sky. I know this bird well and it serves its own kind by assisting me by giving or sharing it’s secrets as a prized Animal Totem. As with bear brother, I will transmute it’s untimely demise into something to bring better living qualities to it’s kind.
This Cherokee Bear Song made me weep immediately upon reciting it during preparations for officially spiritually cleansing their remains and their spirits clinging to what’s left of their sudden deaths, ways of letting them down gently and freeing them forever of rebirth in bear clan unless they choose to do so. There are according to James Moody, also Cherokee formulas for human to become a black bear if one so chooses to do so. These spells or formulas ain’t for entertainment and yours truly may one day walk into the sunset a black bear to enjoy summer breezes on mountain top mulberry patches. Even now just reading this song brings me a certain sadness that works to bring upon me a strong awareness of these gentle giants of the Mountain summits, the high places of these ancient Appalachian Mountains. I’m well aware black bears can become predators of man, however from my own experience, encounters absent of fear and panic from the human will reflect the peaceful and gentleness of one of these mountain giants.

If you made it this far, congratulations you made it through my many ramblings and digressions. Like admitting to being a musician the obvious I’m not a real writer should be self evident, but hey I’m trying. As for my first live show in Nature, it actually was well received. I got a standing ovation as a sudden gust of wind shot upward sweeping up leaves and limbs in the updraft commotion! My tipi located nearby lifted momentarily from it’s footing, like a rocket preparing to blast off it moved but didn’t ascend to celestial heavens over head. If I can figure out how to upload video clips I’ll include some music videos for this site relevant to it’s theme and content.

This whole post here took me all day mostly back to back hours nearly ten hours of typing and some minor editing formatting. Thanks WordPress for making the website stuff virtually transparent so edits were effortless.