A personal memory of hidden realities in time and space
by Jon Rappoport
March 15, 2018
There is investigation from which hidden realities and elite figures will emerge—just as discovering what powers a home can lead to finding the far-flung generators of power for a whole metropolis.
But then there are investigations of another kind, which turn up strange connections among events—as if time and space make sudden detours.
These latter oddities are uncovered by personal reflection.
In the summer of 1962, young and crazy, with very few funds, at (very) loose ends, I gave up my apartment and traveled to Cape Cod. I spent a few weeks there and met a painter who was living in a small studio. He generously gave me a place to sleep on his floor.
I had a friend who was working as a waiter in a restaurant. Every night, just before sunset, I would go to the back door of the place, and he would come out and hand me a plate piled high with fresh lobster and salad. I would take it down the dock, sit, and eat my meal for the day.
I had already decided I wanted to paint, so the artist and I had long conversations in his studio late at night. These talks oxygenated my blood and set my brain on fire. I was as certain as certain could be that I was (somehow) going to paint.
THE DAY I returned to New York, still very short on money, and without a place to live (young and very crazy), my first stop was the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I had been there for long afternoons of looking and pondering over the past year.
NEVER had I been to the Museum restaurant—but this day, I decided to go in and have a cup of coffee. As I sat down, I noticed a man coming over to my table. He was a painter who worked in a small gallery downtown. We’d spoken a number of times there.
He sat down. Within a minute or so, he told me his problem. THAT DAY, in a few hours, he was going on vacation, to the Cape, with his girlfriend, to the town I’d just come back from. He had a studio off 5th Avenue. He’d been trying to lease it for the rest of the summer, but he’d failed. Did I knew anyone who was looking for a temporary place to live?
Well, I said—my mind ignited by a blow torch—I was looking—but I had very little cash.
How much could you pay, he asked.
I named a ridiculous figure.
He shrugged and said he was mainly looking for someone who would live in the studio and take care of it until September. I could write there and—I told him I was starting to paint and he said he had “materials” I could use.
I reached in my pocket and gave him the first month’s rent, and he grinned and handed me the keys.
An hour later, I walked into his second-floor studio on 19th Street, a few doors down from 5th Avenue (three blocks away from where I had lived for the first five years of my life). The studio was about 60 feet long and 20 feet wide. There was a small bed on a platform, a kitchenette, and a bathroom.
There was a writing desk. There were two easels, perhaps 20 blank canvases, a few hundred sheets of water color paper, a hundred or so tubes of acrylic paint, and a few dozen brushes.
Christmas on Earth, good will to all.
Two days later, a friend showed up in Washington Square Park and paid me back a loan I’d given him a year earlier.
In retrospect, trying to calculate the odds of those events smoothly transpiring…there were no odds. What occurred was, to me, impossible but true.
And after a summer of painting (sometimes all day and into the night), my life was never the same again. Painting was inventing reality. Life was inventing reality.
I had seen my mountain and gone to the top of it.
It was as if reality had whispered in my ear, “YOUR DESIRE IS OVERFLOWING. GOOD. You want to bend me, you want to change me. Good. I’m bored with being what I am. I’ll cut you a slice of good fortune. Don’t be cautious. Go all out…”
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)
Jon Rappoport
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.
FREAKIN’ AWESOME! Reblogging to sister site Success Inspirers World ????
Great autobiography Jon!
Speaking from experience – I know painting can have a deep transformative impact on the Individual’s psyche. The element of passion will certainly fuel that potential. I was in the Art course at Rudolf Steiner College – however my real passion is dance!
As I write this now and become aware of how great a hurdle I have set before me in my ultimate dream/fantasy of being: “The Lord of The Dance” I realize I could also simply go to the park and dance there!
Thank you for sharing from your depth as it has evoked mine as well!
Being “The Lord of The Dance” in the park would actually be to LIVE YOUR DREAM.
Do, as Jon says reality (the Universe) told him: …Go All Out. Rudolph will be proud!
Wildcards… THAT’S what I’m talking about!
“… These talks oxygenated my blood and set my brain on fire. I was as certain as certain could be that I was (somehow) going to paint….”
(*that’s* being in “YES!” mode; we can also be in yes mode with a negative belief/fear, with equally strong feelings, which also activates a response from the natural forces = we’re seeing a lot of it in the news)
“If you wish to understand the Universe, think in terms of energy, vibration, and frequency”
~ Nikola Tesla
“Everything is energy and that’s all there is to it. Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that reality. It can be no other way. This is not philosophy. This is physics.”
~Albert Einstein
“The difference between Sorcery and Wizardry: ‘Sorcery’ is wilding energy for one’s own gain at the expense of others ((dark/low frequency)). ‘Wizardry’ is wielding energy for the good of all at the expense of none” ((light/high frequency)).
~Joe Marshalla ~ ((mine))
All anyone ever does here on Earth, living their Human experience, is move energy around; nothing else ever. Everything is energy -thoughts, feelings, material objects – and all we ever do is move these things around, wield energy/ies – high or low frequencies-of-choice -toward one direction or another for one reason/intention or another.
The main question: am I expending/weilding my life force energy in (support of) Sorcery or Wizardry??? This puts a somewhat new perspective on “Each of us is either part of the problem or part of the solution”. Sorcerers dupe unwitting Humans – who would otherwise be Wizardly- into wielding their personal life-force energies for the agenda of the Sorcers… it’s the most basic contest between dark & light playing out (the very reason for all the physical & intellectual contamination in our world implemented by the ‘powers-that-shouldn’t-be’ =flooding the environment(s) with low frequencies = lowering our personal biological frequencies/destabilizing/disempowering our abilities to wield higher frequency energy/ies as *we* would choose). Only now, the contest truly comes down to an inner one in these intense times… now it’s down to necessity of making the conscious choice within each Human Being. Continue to support them/ buy what they’re selling, or create our own/buy from & support those who are creating what is wanted??? Continue to allow imposed low frequencies to dominate us, or to choose & allow only high frequencies to dominate us?
“When health is absent, wisdom cannot reveal itself, art cannot manifest, strength cannot fight, wealth becomes useless, and intelligence cannot be applied.”
~Herophilus
Our task is simply to decline/refuse to allow ourselves to be duped/manipulated/used/abused – to wake up and increase the light energy we each wield and decide to wield in a more appropriate direction. Dark is evaporated by light; dark is only the absence of light = dark has no substance of it’s own. Sorcery is manipulative (vaccines are safe/ effective/necessary, germs will kill you without vaccinations = fear/low frequency consciousness); Wizardry is creative (Natural Immunity Communities; building robust immune systems & appropriately educating children/citizens = empowerment/high frequency consciousness, i.e. http://healthimpactnews.com/2018/natural-immunity-community-creates-vaccine-free-zone-for-childcare-and-home-schooling-in-response-to-australias-mandatory-vaccine-policies/
Thanks Jon for sharing your perfect example of alignment with what IS wanted, absence of fear/resistance, and acquiescence by the Natural Forces with an exquisitely perfect in-kind response = Wildcards; that’s Wizardry, and the Universal forces are in support of Wizardry by offering up what we see as ‘ Wildcards’. Truth be told, the Berlin wall came down – Wildcard – because so many people were aligned with that – Wizardry works on grand-scale & in/by collective consciousness too. Enough of us positively expecting the bottom of the rotting-trash-can-that-is-pHARMa falling out from under them brings it about sooner – oh that Wildcard is coming.
I’d spend more time here with you if there were more essays like this (I do understand Sorcery needs to be exposed, I do; shining the light of awareness on them is a necessary part of identifying what IS wanted), just sayin’ – positive instruction like this is also necessary. I’m glad you recently gave us the site of your partner… she’s doing Wizardry beautifully. We’ll never have peace by giving most of our energies/attention to (fearing/fighting) the warmongers & eugenicists – acting from inner peace in small & big ways is what brings it about. I take issue with the author of the article I linked on one key point: Natural Immunity Communities *are not fighting back*… they are peacefully creating solutions to the problems of Human abuse imposed by the eugenics-agenda Sorcers. Vaccinationism is just one example, albeit a foundational one; permaculture is another foundational one… clean food through facilitating Nature’s tendency toward abundance.
“We cannot command Nature except by obeying Her.”
~ Francis Bacon
“Deep within every one of us lies a natural understanding of good and evil. That is why one man can tell the truth convincingly…but it takes the entire apparatus of the state to peddle a lie, and propagate that lie to new generations.”
~Gandhi
Freedom is never given voluntarily by the oppressor. It must be demanded by the oppressed.
~ Martin Luther King
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world. Indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.”
~ Margaret Mead
Over the top, absolutely over the top — when you are in the middle of magic. It so clear, and there is an understanding that you are witnessing perfection unfold in front of you.
Nostalgic today, huh..?
I have a similar story — I wouldn’t want to steal any of your thunder –maybe, I might mention it…oh ok, if you’re gonna twist my arm. I’ll tell it to you lol — the short version.
I was eighteen — I had always been interested in art, painting, I had scribbled and was always prone to the creative, to doodling when contemplating. Or making my own things. The artist was waiting for permission, or some sign I think to progress– when I look back now. Maybe for another artist to give me permission, or a confirmation.
An artist telling you that you are an artist as well, is a big thing to a young person.
I had been travelling around with two other fools like myself — Jack Black and Damon White, we were the same age — in a fucked up old 1965 Chevy van, that was in a constant state of repair. It was heaven.
They were budding musicians and quite good, they both played guitar, and were teaching me to play. I would play percussion on an old sound box, or bongos, tin cans — I played harmonica and the side panel of the truck. we had some great jam sessions that went on for hours around campfires at night. We met other kids, girls, and partied and played at bush parties, and then moved on.
I would write poetry and Jack would turn it into music. We all got along like brothers.
We travelled across Canada in that Chevy van — worked when we could — filled that van with gas, loaded up some food and moved on to the next adventure…got arrested a number of times for being vagrants — we committed no crimes we were good kids. We got out of jail — worked dishwashing or something to get the van out of impound and moved on again…
We were coming from eastern Canada to the west, entering British Columbia, in and around the summer of 1975 — Damon was from BC, it was his home province, and he said we could stay at his father’s place back in the mountains a bit.
His father had a big house in the trees, nestled away from a small town nearby. Damon said his father was cool and wouldn’t mind if we stayed, his father was living as a single man…divorced.
We arrive and got introduced to his dad — dad agreed we could stay — one rule; clean up after yourself, and try to be helpful. If you’re gonna eat; do some work around the place for it. It was simple — we stayed a few weeks.
The guys (Jack and Damon) would go off exploring, or go to town looking for chicks or weed, but I took an interest in his — Damon’s father — he was a painter. A very good one. He had the painted figure down pat.
He painted the book covers for Harlequin romance novels. Big things on three by four-foot canvas. That was his bread and butter. Then he had his own stuff he worked on when wasn’t painting book covers.
I would watch him from his open door to his beautiful studio — big windows with a northern lights; high ceilings and brushes and paints, and colored paint spots on the floor. Cornucopia of items and what-not everywhere. Old velvet period dresses and clothing, hats, swords, items of every kind. Bent twisted tubes of paint, buckets with brushes and water and paint stained cloths. And a couple of large floor easels — those big old University easels, you can’t find them anymore. Tables with all kinds of objects — it was like walking around in a room-size version of someone’s junk drawer.
I was hooked immediately, I wanted to be him, he looked like a god at that easel. Painting away, involved in his own created universes. I knew he knew I was watching, and tried hard to not bother him just simple observe. I didn’t speak. He spun gold of the end that brush.
I would watch for a period, and wander off, and then come back and watch again. He turned to me abruptly and said, “Come in and take a seat — if I speak to you then you can speak, otherwise shush.”
I watched him paint, it was like listening to fine music, or watching an epic movie on the screen — he seemed like some fictional character out off book, rather than a real life man. I would watch his process. Finally he would talk, and we spoke about the obvious — I was greatly interested in what he was doing and desired it myself. I had no real purpose in life up until that point. But I was on fire now.
We talked about process, as he painted –and then he would go quiet for a long period and then pick up again where he left off. Sometimes he would stop, get up move to another place in room and look back at what he doing or start something else. Sometimes talking sometimes not. He stopped at one point on his latest work — something he was finishing because of a timeline — he was painting on a large canvas for a up-coming novel, and looked at it for a few moments, and then moved off to a cupboard, reached in and got out a new sketch pad and a box of twelve school HB pencils, he handed them to me and said — pointing — “There’s a sharpener over there in the corner, draw!”.
I became self-conscious and said “I don’t know how to draw..” he said, ” Yeah ya do, you just don’t know it yet.”
We stayed for that prolonged period at his house, he was very generous, but strict and disciplined — we gassed up and prepared the van. Damon’s father gave Damon some money, and off we went to Vancouver.
I fritzed around in insanity and craziness of a life for another ten years, before coming to the realization of what he said to me. That period of time made a great impression on me.
At rock bottom, a friend took me in off the street, and loved me — and I started to draw and paint watercolors and create. And then sell them in little galleries, for a modest price. And the prices and fame grew, and I moved to 3500 sq/ft studio with ten foot walls and ‘A’ galleries. And that summer from long ago, comes back many times and has drove me on like I was running on jet fuel.
I have been painting ever since — well, except for a few dead spots, holes I would fall into for a while, and dig myself back out off..
And on that note I will go to my studio now.
It the time of day to start to paint.
Since I was born, I have always been fascinated with peoples faces. Every face was so different from another and I wondered why?
So, in my early years, I started painting portraits. This is when I realized that faces reveals a person’s character and his soul., That helped me a lot to choose my friends. all of my life,
And I gained painting skills doing it. So I chose to go to art school and specialise in interior designing. for 3 years. I also started painting all sorts of different things and had success doing it, but I was reluctant to sell them, so of course I could not live doing that. I needed money and a job
.At that time, I was also studying astrology. this is when I met one man who owned a yellow journal called in French: Allo Police. They were reporting all sorts of crimes. He said would you like to write weakly astrology charts of famous criminals and explain their minds through astrology. I said sure, how does it pay.. They paid a lot, and I did it for a year. I did a chart about Albert De Salvo, Lee Harvey Oswald, Reverend Jim Jones, Al Capone, John Delinger, Henry Lee Lucas, etc.It was fun, but I must admit that I relied more on the faces of the criminals, than there astrology charts
..lol
After that, a friend of mine who worked for a television network ask me if I would like to work to create ambiance for special programming. I immediately said yes and I worked there for a year,
But, I soon switch and worked for Architect firms and later on for engineers. firms.
I liked the ambiance, working with men, I was always the only female there. I was treated like a princess. In fact, I always got along better with men than with women. I was a draftsman or should I say a draft women, if this is a word in English. It was a very creative job,
I was always giving advice to Architec and they liked my ideas they thought I had vision. I even gave advice to engineers even if I knew nothing about engineering and they would take my advice, not all of the times but often.
I am proud to say that I had found a solution for the never ending problem we had here in Quebec with the Montreal’s Olympic Stadium roof, , but they did not go with my solution.
But, now they have finally fixed the problem of the roof with the same solution that I had given them decades back.
So My life has been very creative and I enjoyed every moments of it. Now that I am much older, I though of writing a Soap Opera, about corrupted governments. But, it is a lot of work and I do not feel I want to spend my energy on it. So, I will relax and enjoy one day at a time. But I am thinking of going back to painting again.