Okay, I can only say this story will go in and out of time a bit. It starts last summer and where it ends remains to be seen.
Last August, I painted some art works “intuitively” and without subject, simply setting my mind clear, putting paint to paper and watching what unfolded. This was exciting for me, seeing form pop up without expectation, especially since my ability to see forms clearly with eyes closed (clairvoyance) had nearly faded after I had seen something that I’d rather not have known. To discover this new way of “seeing” via paint was a thrill.
I found that words accompanied the paintings, almost always as they were nearing completion. (In this painting, “See Toray.”) I was uncertain of what they meant, but sensed meaning nonetheless. And clearly I could “see” a “sea” or body of water in this painting, so seemed to fit.
“Toray” reminded me of “torus”— I’d been fascinated by torsion and natural geologic energy vortices as employed in energy systems, reading volumes on scientists like Nikola Tesla and the Austrian Viktor Schauberger from February through March prior to the painting. (And Shauberger is all about natural energy. He suggests fish swimming upstream jump into energy vortices created by the turbulent river itself, like unseen elevators that propel them stealthly to their elevated destination.)
After the painting, I set it aside to not force interpretation from my own mind. If I’d learned anything about these clairs of mine, it’s that they work best when I allow the information to find me, not the other way around. I simply set it aside in anticipation of how serendipitously I’d get my answers. After all, “Sardinia” had spoken in a painting a week before, and within a week we received our copy of National Geographic’s Traveler with “ITALY: A Dream Drive on the Sardinian Coast” boldly on the cover. Still no obvious “answers” but a breadcrumb nonetheless… I’m down for a drive along the Emerald Coast.
But I’ll try to stay on track. Those of you who’ve wanted a peek at my breadcrumb experiences can likely endure. 
So last week, eight months after I painted See Toray, I stumbled across some breadcrumbs while doing an unrelated search online. My notes as jotted in my journal:
4.16.10 update: Torquay found via online search on artist promo, reminds me of Toray” words that came to me while painting a landscape overlooking water (intuited landscape) with a big spiral pattern open cistern type circle. Here’s what one Google search result showed:
“Torquay (pronounced /tɔrˈkiː/) is a town in the unitary authority area of Torbay and ceremonial county of Devon, England on the west of the bay. The town’s economy was initially based upon fishing and agriculture as in the case of Brixham across Torbay, but in the early 19th century the town began to develop into a fashionable seaside resort, initially frequented by members of the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars while the Royal Navy anchored in the bay and later by the crème de la crème of Victorian society as the town’s fame spread. Renowned for its healthful climate, the town earned the nickname of the English Riviera and favourable comparisons to Montpellier.
…
Torquay’s name originates in it being the quay of the ancient village of Torre. In turn, Torre takes its name from the tor, the extensively quarried remains of which can be seen by the town’s Tor Hill Road.[4]“
OH MY GOD, I just clicked on the “Tor” reference and found it a site of ruins. SERIOUSLY, I CANNOT MAKE THIS STUFF UP! I love it, this is like some sort of unguided remote viewing or past life recall or what, but effing serendipity of some sort. Exhilarating! Okay, now I have to find the painting from last year, then I’ll look at different photos of the ruins. I’ve got to blog this… it’s so surreal.
And so here I am, blogging this, LOL. Here’s one photo from Devon region of England, this one Castle Rock, which features the Valley of Rocks below:
More from my journal:
“Wow, there’s even an opening there. I remember leaving a blank like a doorway only thinking it seemed out of place. Did I paint over that? It’s not as obvious in the painting, but I remember it because the positioning I intuited seemed odd, felt like a doorway but the scale seemed odd.”
I further discovered that “Torre” is Spanish for “tower” and that torres are often found along coastlines, as in Spain, Sardinia, and yes, the British Isle, remnants from Spanish occupants of centuries ago.
Now, the above photo is not of a torre in that sense. The one at left is, and located along the southern coast of Sardinia. The height is too tall to match my painting and the elevation above the sea is off, but I love the circular form and rough texture of these towers. I think I’ll include one in a future painting, one I actually plan to paint. (Would be delightful in a landscape with orbs.)
Castle Rock seemed most compelling, and I searched a bit for lore or history on the place, finding this from Picturesque England (L. Valentine, 1893):
“The North Walk – the more picturesque of the two roads that lead to the famous Valley of Rocks – is one of the finest cliff walks in England. It was made by a Mr. Sanford in 1817. After walking along it for the distance of about half a mile, a great, rugged, and fantastically jagged tor appears on the left. It is the celebrated Ragged Jack with his companions. There is a legend attached to these tors. It is said that some Druids were dancing here on a Sunday, and making impious revelry, when Satan suddenly appeared in the midst of them and turned them into stone. We must suppose that Ragged Jack was an Archdruid – but what had Druids to do with Sunday? Very shortly after passing Ragged Jack, the Castle Rock comes into sight, and on rounding the last turn of the cliff walk we see before us the whole of the wonderful Valley of Rocks, with the Castle Rock on one side and the Devil’s Cheese Ring on the other. It was in the Cheese Ring that Mother Meldrum lived when John Ridd sought her in “Lorna Doone.” We will give “John Ridd’s” description of it: “This valley, or ‘goyal’ as we term it, being small for a valley, lies to the east of Linton, about a mile from the town, perhaps, and away towards Ley Manor.”
Well that’s a bit weird and creepy. “Ley” is mentioned, and ley lines are alignments of “natural and artificial features” across a geographical area, a term coined by Alfred Watkins in the early 20th century. I’d been researching those last year and had read there may be some type of magnetism or supernatural force associated with ley alignments. And throughout history, the devil was often blamed for natural forces that were not yet understood by humanity, which comes to mind as I ponder Valentine’s description of the place.
I also found another beautiful photo of Castle Rock in Devon, below, from Paul Forsdick’s Flickr photostream:
So what does it mean? Are these sacred points where vortices of energy naturally exist, perhaps ancient Druid energetic healing centers utilizing earth-based “medicine?” Is it built or naturally eroded rock, and does that even matter for this interpretation?
I’ll let you know when the next coincidental breadcrumb comes my way. For now, I HAVE spent much time pondering it and am weary, knowing the universe will present all the answers to me eventually, even as I want the answers RIGHT NOW.
I am truly developing patience through the emergence of these visions. And it is good.
On a related note, I’ve been painting and prepping for the upcoming art walk in downtown Battle Creek, my first ever public display of my fine art, a much different beast than my graphic design work. If you’re in the area, come check us out at Spring Into The Arts.
Enjoy the remainder of April!
