Wednesday, November 9

My childhood chum Patrice is here for nine days, from California - we haven’t seen each other since we were twelve years old or so; then she was called Patsy.  A remarkable person and a remarkable relationship.  Now that she is here, I find it hard to believe she has not always been in my life, on some level of being ...   Still: the physical reality of her visit is quite wonderful, and I am immensely grateful for it.

Thursday, November 10

Patrice and I were sitting at the downstairs kitchen table talking about many things earlier tonight - when suddenly she asked if I had candles somewhere.  She said she was distinctly aware of the scent of candles.  I asked if the aroma was of roses; she thought for a moment and said, yes it was like roses and growing stronger.  I told her it was most likely Our Lady, Our Heavenly Mother, and began to tell her of the supernatural fragrances we had in meditation class some years ago.  Patrice looked at me and said she didn’t know if she believed in such things; she then said that the scent was disappearing.  I said that was because of her lack of belief.  My friend said, “But I want to believe it”- and a few moments later she looked at me with wonder and said that the scent of roses had returned and was stronger, becoming very strong - almost like a cheap perfume.  I answered that yes, that was the fragrance we had associated with Our Lady in those meditation classes, so strong that I sometimes asked if someone in class was wearing perfume.  After a while Patrice turned to me again and said: “Oh my ...  I saw a psychic a few weeks ago, and she told me that I would smell roses, and that it meant that my mother was there ...”   Of course, my friend Patrice thought the psychic meant the fragrance of roses meant the presence of her earthly mother who had died some years ago - but it was really the perfume of Our Lady, Our Blessed Mother, that the psychic was referring to.   I then told Patrice that at times the supernatural fragrances even followed us to Windgarth House, our house on the lake.  Those supernatural fragrances began when we first studied the poems of the Desert Fathers in class, and they continued for over a year.  Even now some of us receive whiffs, as did my beautiful friend Patrice tonight.  It is still a mystery to me why suddenly the Gift of these supernatural fragrances began and continue, but I am certainly deeply grateful for them.  What was unusual tonight is that I was not aware of the scent of roses, not even for a moment.  Apparently tonight’s Heavenly Signal was solely for my friend Patrice.

Friday, November 11

Earlier today I had asked  Monica and Nancy to help me plant spring daffodil and tulip bulbs in the gardens tomorrow.  Monica called to say they were not free tomorrow afternoon, and I asked if they could come over tonight, so I could show them the bulbs and how to plant them.  They came right over from next door; Patrice was downstairs, and we were all talking, when suddenly I had a whiff of a  supernatural fruitlike scent.  Patrice said she also had a whiff; after a few moments both Monica and Nancy said the same.  Then we all began to experience the fragrance of roses, alternating with the fruitlike scent.  Both Monica and Nancy are my meditators, but they joined on after the supernatural fragrances had ceased in classes - so this was a new experience for them.  Tonight the fragrances were weaker and more fleeting than last night - but definitely there.  And tonight we all were aware of not only roses, but also of the fruitlike scent.  At one point Patrice looked at the clock and exclaimed in surprise that the supernatural scents had started at the same time last night, 10:30; they had stopped by eleven p.m.  At one point tonight Patrice and I were aware of the scents, but we had to wave towards Nancy and Monica before they could smell them.  As in the past, it seems to depend where you are standing in the room; these fragrances are physical - and localized.  Nancy said she did not want to leave, the fragrances were so special she did not want them to end.  The supernatural scents ceased a little before eleven, just as they had last night.

Patrice came upstairs as I was typing this Journal entry and said: “What a special night.”  And so it was.

Midnight

Alone, at the kitchen table, Clarissa the cat my only incarnate company.  A 10x12 inch colour photograph of the statue of Our Lady in Medjugorje and a smaller painting of Christ are propped up against the white ceramic vase filled with dried flowers, in their usual place on the table - and where these supernatural fragrances have begun these last few nights.  I gaze at the photograph and smaller painting of Our Lord  now, and say some inner prayers for the world and for all those on my healing list.   

Outside, a gentle, round moon, thin, fragile, like a Communion wafer, moving against the clouds, illumined by the distant, invisible sun ...  


Saturday, November 12

Patrice and I waited downstairs for the scents at 10:30 - and she was aware of the scent of citrus.  I had a brief whiff of roses.

Monday, November 14

Patrice has left for California, I was still asleep when she left this morning.  A few e-mails from Diana: she is slowly reinstating herself in Dallas, both at home and at the Art Institute where she teaches.  I assume she has not yet had time to work on We Meet in Dreams, and so for the moment I myself have a chance to catch up on other work. Today grey skies and a bit of rain, after many days of sun and warmth and white clouds and blue sky ....  
                                    
Wednesday, November 16

Today very grey, rainy, mysterious, mystical ... a bit of mist in the distance.  Tonight an e-mail from Patrice: “I smelled the roses again, two, maybe three times today. It was brief, sudden and out of nowhere. WOW!!! I thought I smelled it on the plane yesterday, also.”  I wrote her back to say that I also had experienced a brief whiff of roses here and there, a few short greetings from Our Lady, fleeting Glimpses into a truer Reality and an Eternal Realm.    
See the New Book Cover Here !!   Finishing the Cover for the New Book We Meet in Dreams: A Mystic’s Journal: INCLUDE COVER   take out 2nd to last para except on Buzzle

Thursday, November 24

We went to our friends’ house in the country for Thanksgiving dinner tonight; a big, rambling old wooden house with porches and gables stuck on here and there, painted white, surrounded by woods.  The only lights were from inside the house as we drove up; no lamp lights on that humble road.  We were late and they had already started eating dinner, probably thirty or forty people, all seated at a long thin table stretching across the narrow living/dining room.  We could see them through the windows as we walked up to the house ...  Wood everywhere: the floors, the staircase, the moldings.  An old-fashioned kitchen with cedar cabinets.  The guests were mainly people we did not know, nor did they seem to know each other: Chinese Cornell students, a young Cornell professor and his wife and sister; artists from Ithaca; a fellow from Trinidad; a German fellow and his wife; I barely met half of them, but more enjoyed watching and listening to the din of happy voices in the many accents and intonations and inflections settling around me.  It was a feast, dishes piled high with all sorts of foods and desserts, homemade pies, wines, nuts, homemade bread.  At the end the fellow from Trinidad stood up and announced it was the best Thanksgiving he had ever experienced, and asked us all to applaud our hosts - which we did.

When I returned home, an e-mail from Diana: she has begun work on the book covers.

Tuesday, November 29

Over sixty degrees again today - which is very unusual for Ithaca in late November.  Jf and I went to the post office and then to Stewart Park.  The ducks were milling around in the water near the shore, and calling to each other - here and there a duck flew in from a great distance to join them.  My feeling was that they would be leaving Ithaca today.  Generally when the birds all clump together and call to each other in that way, it means they are ready to change locales for the winter.  About a hundred geese were collected together on one of the lawns near the shore.

Some e-mails from Diana when I arrived home - she has been working steadily on the front cover of We Meet in Dreams.  She is not entirely happy  with the idea I gave her to work with for the cover: a farmhouse under a starry sky, with a few trees.  For one, the trees are taking forever for her to outline in Photoshop; for another she feels the cover design does not contain any archtype related to dreaming.   In response, I took some photos of doors and windows tonight; my thought being that she could superimpose one of the images on the night sky, on an angle possibly, fading into the sky - and the starry sky seen through the superimposed window.  Sent them off to Diana.  She wrote back that she was almost finished with the cover and asked me not to send any more photographs.  Possibly she can use one of the images for the back cover. The idea of this book is that these special dreams that I discuss in the book are windows or doorways into other realms ...

Wednesday, November 30

Diana e-mailed me some experimental front covers today: we had started with the idea of a house, a tree or two - and the night sky.   Diana took photographs of houses and trees while she was here in Ithaca, and her first cover attempt was of two farmhouses and a few trees under a night sky.  In her second version she had added the nearly transparent faces of two people turned towards each other, superimposed on the night sky, above the farm houses - which I very much like.  One person is speaking, the other listening; looking at the cover again, the angles of the faces and the angles of the houses mirror each other, creating an invisible x that connects them all ...  I am not sure she thought this through consciously, I think I will ask her if she planned it.  The addition of the superimposed faces truly brings meaning to the cover, reflects the message of the book ...  Wrote her back and told her how pleased I was with her ideas for the cover.

Diana wants to subtract some of the meadow and add more sky, but I am encouraging her to leave the visual proportions the way they are.  The wildflowers in the meadow look somewhat like stars, something she had not consciously been aware of or planned - I, of course, was delighted.  Interestingly enough, the colors and tints she chose for the cover were the same as those I had inwardly imagined, pictured.  The same happened with the cover of Visits With Angels.  Either Diana is reading my mind, or my clairvoyance is showing me the covers before she creates them.

Fortunately for me, Diana is at peace with the cover design now that she has added the two dreamers.

Thursday, December 1

A beautiful, sunny day; leaves scurrying everywhere.  JF and I did some errands, and when I returned home there was an e-mail from Diana: “ Very interesting about the houses and faces mirroring their houses, making an "x" directional line as you said.  I was operating on instinct. When I first placed the faces, they were flipped – in other words, the face on the left was on the right – but it didn't look balanced to me so I changed their positions. My feeling was that the full face (on the left) needed to face in the direction that the book cover opens. As soon as I shifted the position, it looked balanced.”

I was not surprised that her arrangement of the houses and faces was instinctual - true creativity most often is spontaneous, unthought.  What was curious to me is that when I first studied the cover, I knew she had reversed the images ...  

Diana is now giving some thought to the design for the back cover; she also mentioned possibly making subtle changes and improvements to the front cover.  I am immensely pleased with what she has accomplished.  As far as I am concerned - the front cover is finished.

Now we have to write the blurb for the back cover.  Sent her a few ideas.


Wednesday, December 6  

The blurb for the back of the book is coming along nicely.  Diana sent me three paragraphs and I made some changes and sent it back to her.  I still need to think about it further.

Earlier today I went to Buzzle’s website, and the poll results for the Journal entry on the supernatural fragrances (November 8-16, 2011) was deeply touching.   Actually, I do not really have words for what I am feeling.  My awe and Gratitude to Our Lady and the other Divine Beings who sent the fragrances - are beyond words.  As of today, over 2,000 people have read the Journal entry.  Seventy-eight people took the poll.  36% of those who took the poll said they experienced the scent of roses as they read the article; 8 % said they experienced the fragrance of roses after they read the article; 13% said they experienced the fragrance of roses and other supernatural scents after reading the article.

I still am without words.

Thursday, December 7

Diana and I are still working on the blurb for the back of the book, changing a word here, a word there.  

Friday, December 8

Went to the Jango website to see new comments and reviews of my music; received one of my favorite music reviews of all time, from Istanbul Turkey, Wednesday November 23 2011 02:04 AM:

“ In a cold Istanbul morning, the warmth of the music gives great energy ”

Here a cool, clear night, in the high thirties.  It has been so warm until now that the petunias and roses are still blooming at Windgarth.  

One of my meditators helped me to restring the Christmas lights in the front windows here in town last week.  Rearranged the little scenes on the sills and the top frames of the bottom windows: little Christmas trees, painted wooden nutcracker soldiers, a little bright red wagon, a small Santa seated at a table reading his Christmas list, carolers; other ornaments strung on bright strings and strands of holiday garlands; an angel by herself, holding a lit, slowly moving, candle in the westernmost window.  The downstairs north-facing windows are right on the sidewalk, so many people look into them ...

Diana sent me the back cover of We Meet in Dreams today, and I think it is perfect.  The wording we ended up with for the description fits nicely and I think reads well.  It starts with:  A book for anyone who wants to look more deeply into the true nature of their dreams.
 

I wrote that sentence, but as with the other books, Diana wrote the rest of the book description and then I changed a few words here and there; then we sent it back and forth, making changes, until we both agreed it was done.  For whatever reason, the blurb for the back cover is just not a task I can easily do.  Writing a book is easy.  The description is not.

I gave a print out of the back cover for my aide Samantha to read; she said it was very good and left the reader wanting to know more.  Samantha was sitting at the kitchen table in her usual chair, taking a break from cooking our Christmas dinner - my grandmother’s recipe for Swiss steak, a sort of European stew, simmering in a very big heavy pot on the stove.  The kitchen was warm from all the cooking, in spite of the colder weather, the aroma slowly and steadily filling the entire  house, reminding me of Christmases past.  Samantha is from the South, and calls me “Miss Laurie” ...

Someone on the Buzzle.com website wrote in to say that the photo on our kitchen table was not Our Lady of Medjugorje, but rather Our Lady of Fatima.  The reader who wrote in seemed very firm about it, so I assume she is correct.  However, I cannot change my Buzzle entries in any way, it is not allowed.  All I can do is put the correction here, in this Journal entry.  (I will change it on other sites, however.)

As I sit here I can see the lights strung in the window at the bottom of the stairs, like stars ...

Saturday, December 17

Today we had our annual Christmas party, from 3 to 7 p.m.  JF came early and set up her handmade jewelry on our transformed kitchen table; as in past years she covered it in black velvet, set up lights and hung or draped her beautiful jewelry over driftwood and various racks of all shapes and sizes.  JD and I played four hand music on the piano: a transcription by Mme Rimsky-Korsakov of Tschaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, a transcription of Fingal’s Cave by Felix Mendellsohn, Mozart, von Suppe ...  At times the house was happily crammed with people; some guests brought brightly wrapped presents, others brought pastries to add to what we had put out for everyone, seemingly endless platters full of pastries, cheeses and crackers of various sorts.  To have so many friends all in one place, on a cold day with a sugaring of snow outside, with warmth and lights within - was just a joyous occasion all around.  A friend dying of cancer came, looking very frail and transparent; the mother of a beautiful young man who had killed himself this past year also came, as did all the problems we all face in a lifetime, the suffering somehow dissolved in the Brightness of the music and food and warmth and love that filled the house, excited voices blending in with the music, sometimes soaring above it, sometimes quiet, listening ...  Altogether a lovely, memorable party ...