“We Are Gods" Composed by Harry Lightfoot - For AudioMachine. 2017 Franco
The Eternal Path of The Witch and the Soldier - Forever Entangled through Time and Space
"An Immortal Love" - I painted in 1974. Year I was discharged from the Army.
One side: Gracefully smooth and curvaceous. Other side: Hard-edged and Sharp.
Starting at 6:23 - The Violins, Donna Darkwolf and I would dance and energetic
and vigorous tango-waltz to this on occasion. Some "tricky steps".
Like mountain goats on a precipice... It gets FAST!
Well. If a goat can do it - maybe you should learn...
Donna Darkwolf and I have done this voyage TWICE!. Once in another Life Time. And again in this Life Time.
We are destined to do it AGAIN. We have no choice. We have Our Duty. Bound to serve each other!
Having fantasized about a woman such as Donna in many of my paintings, seen her in my dreams, and finally having found her
was an answer to my wish for one such as her.
Ours was a passionate, exhilarating, stimulating and exciting adventurous love affair that, lasted all through our marriage.
I have had several love affairs and two marriages.
But I have never felt complete Immersive adulation. Absolute adoration.
Not until I discovered Donna Darkwolf.
Then I discovered what ‘worship’ alluded to, in Love.
We were not merely "loving" each other. We were "IN Love" with each other.
Losing Donna - I felt my whole Soul sucked out of my body.
All The Light gone out from my Life forever.
I have discovered that losing your one true love is not something you get over.
The Loss stays with you for forever.
Like losing a limb.
However, in compiling this Book of the Life of Donna and I - Donna had written to me: "Tell a Beautiful Story with your Life" -
I realized that it is impossible to tell my Story, without telling Donna's story.
Because, as she said: "We are forever entangled - across Time and Space. Each a half of One Soul".
I have done so - as suggested. As the words in this book are testament to.
And I have come to realise, in the telling, that there are not Two Lives here. Just One.
This Book has been My Voyage into The Light.
Somewhere Donna and I will repeat it, all over again.
‘Death’ is not permanent. It is just the Universes way of re-cycling Souls.
The fact that we live in a society where many people believe in re-incarnation, stems from ‘something’.
That ‘something’ is The Persistence of Memory.
All the research that has been conducted on people, as children, and then later as adults – regarding their claims of remembering things and events from a previous life, has come up with some remarkable findings.
My own research into this has helped me to understand some of my earliest childhood memories and dreams & nightmares.
The following account is to demonstrate what I know and believe to be
true of my own personal experience of reincarnation.
This is an account of my memories - and not something I could imagine or make up.
Imagination has some grounding in 'knowledge' - and for a five year old or ten year old boy, it is pretty difficult to imagine some things, without some knowledge.
The first time I saw the pyramids of Egypt was in my father’s 3-D view finder, when I was about five years old.
Before this I ‘knew’ of their existence – as a 'memory' without knowing what it was that I ‘knew’, or was 'remembering.
Seeing the images for the first time left me breathless, for I had finally discovered what it was that I had envisioned in my earliest recollections of my dreams.
I had dreamed of impossibe things - and here were actual photographs.
Of course my statements that I knew these pyramids from before were mostly ignored by my father.
Women, however, are more intuitive than men. And my mother took a keen interest in what it was I was ‘remembering’.
My mother was fairly amazed by my descriptions of Egypt. For although currently, Egypt is mostly desert, I remember there being a lot of water.
In 1960, I went to see “Cleopatra’s Daughter” with my parents. The costumes, though over-embellished – was not surprising to me.
But the one thing that got me was Debra Paget's Patrician nose. I just knew I was looking at a Queen.
When I finally got to Egypt in 2018, to cast Donna’s Ashes on the sands of the Great Pyramids North Face, I felt moments of déjà vu. I felt as if I had returned home.
I was keenly interested in all the surrounding loose rocks and stones.
With flat surfaces and precise edges – making the whole area appear to be an untidied work-site.
These are of lime stone, or sand stone.
The stones however are rounded. Spheroidal. Such as you would find on a river bed, or beach.
Ground into this shape by the action of water. These rocks are granitic.
I have always entertained the notion that Egypt must have been under water in its pre-historic history –
and that all the sand across the Sahara and Middle-East was under ocean. As the many whale skeletons in the desert attest to.
As well as many of the limestone rocks containing marine fossils, most of which are fully intact and preserved in the walls of the structures
But that is thousands of years before the time I lived there. In my time
the level of the River Nile was much higher than today.
This is borne out by the fact that each Causeway from each of the pyramids slopes downward, and just ends!
I cannot entertain the notion that a People that could practice all the engineering skill they did, would just build a road into the sand.
Being there at the Pyramids reminded me of how I had always had a ‘preference’ for fairly hot weather. And I was quite at home with the dry heat.
With the advent of the internet, I was able to discover that Egypt had indeed been wetter than now.
I have no recollection of dying - so I must have gotten quite old.
Unlike my next recollection. Probably because it is 'so far away' in Time.
About 3000 years ago. Because the Khufu's Great Pyramid existed in my life-time.
The following is provided to demonstrate my proof of 'memory of death'.
Here are things I have an illogical phobia toward:
1940’s fashion; men’s flannel pants with turn-ups, straw boater hats.
Here are things I have a strange fascination with:
Old World War 2 black and white documentary or news footage, World War 2 bombers and air-men, women’s open-toed shoes, girls with black hair.
Scenes of life in Paris during WW 2. Paris cafes.
Here are things I have an illogical dislike of, or repulsion toward:
Rolling wheat fields with a single farm-house. Farm barns. Old farm implements.
Here is a recurring dream I had from the time I was about seven, to when I was nine or ten.
Seeing a fire roll toward me – and engulf me. From which I would wake up. Afraid and sweating
Then a ‘memory’ began emerging.
About living on a farm somewhere in Iowa. (never ever seen Iowa), Joining the Air Force (which might account for my signing up for the Air Force),
and getting shipped off to England, (a country I love), where women’s open-toed shoes, men’s flannel pants with turn-ups and straw boater hats were the fashion.
My Life ended over Germany, or France, in a Lancaster bomber. (you will
discover!) Shot through and going down in a trail of flames in 1944 or
Seven or eight years before I was born in 1952
This is why, I surmise, these Memories are 'fresher'.
This "emerging Memory" began when I was given my first 'complex' plastic model aircraft, for my 10th Birthday
An Avro Lancaster Mk 1 by "MATCHBOX". Which I immediately 'recognised'. I had never seen a picture of it before then.
The aircraft existed only in my boy-hood dreams.
I had had plenty of fighter planes: American, German, Britsh and Japanese
The since seven, the only Christmas and Birthday presents I got from my parents were plastic model kits.
So that I would keep my hands off my father's plastic model kits.
I remember being disturbed by the illustration of the Lancaster bomber on this BIG box.
Even now I recall the simultaneous joy and horror, the morbid fascination I felt as the aircraft was nearing completion, as if it were today!
It was then that the Memory of the "nightmare fire dream" re-surfaced.
Avro Lancaster was a British four-prop strategic bomber used by the R.A.F.
as the principal heavy bomber during the latter half of WWII.
Later on, upon reaching high school at age thirteen - one of the revolting
horrors I was subjected to was the following:
On sports days, when we were doing inter-school competitions we had to turn out in BOATER-HATS and grey FLANNEL TROUSERS with TURN-UPS!
These sports events always prompted the re-surfacing revulsion of the "nightmare fire dream".
Without Mind, Time would not exist
For the Universe has no use for Time, as we know it
Sure, Time 'exists' in some manner.
It takes Time for stars to be born, and to die. It takes Time for galaxies to rotate.
But it is not important to the Universe, for the Universe functions without the consideration of Time.
Time may 'pass' - as we imagine it to do so.
However I think that Time is merely Eternity. An infinite 'moment'.
Inconceivable. Incomprehensible. Unmeasurable.
Time just IS!
For us who live in Time and through Time, fast or slowly, our very existence depends upon Time.
Because we know that we have so little of it.
Time is lost in Memory.
For the truth is that we are only here for a short while.
Prisoners of Time.
The Time we humans created.
And we know that we only get one chance at all of this.
Once Spirit has slipped free of the surly bonds of Time, the chains of
Mundane Existence, Spirit is free of this dead husk. To wander for a while.
And since there is no Time in Eternity... what that 'while' is, is unknowable.
However, imagine if some of the researched and verified accounts of reincarnation bear it this:
This could/may happen. The longer Spirit is kept waiting at the Reception Desk at the 'Here-After Hilton', the more Memory fades.
The shorter the wait to check-in, the more likely the newly reincarnated Spirit will still retain some of its previous Memory.
I know this, because the approx 3300 year gap is blurry - yet the seven year gap is as crystal clear as it was when I woke up to it it sixty two years ago.
This is why I believe I have travelled this way twice before.
And believe I will do so again.
And in doing so - I will find Donna Darkwolf again.
The girl / woman / Heroine with Black Hair.
The majority of women featured in my paintings have black hair. And a Patrician nose.
And she dances through my Life. Vigorous. Lively. Unstoppable.
Exactly as My Donna.
And the one thing about my déjà vu with Donna – was that we 'felt' we knew one another from a previous life.
This was not 'attraction'. This was Affinity. In Bio-Chemistry terms: "the degree to which one substance tends to combine with another".
Either in ancient Egypt, or in Paris in the early 1940’s.
We know we shared common moments and events.
And lived through them again.
Much like knowing how to ride a bicycle, the steps of a dance.
Or - How to play the violin.
The TRICK -
Is that when you get the notes RIGHT...
DO NOT DROP THE VIOLIN!
It is THIS, which gave rise to my: “Migod! It’s You!”, surprised outburst – when Donna had walked up to me at a party, and said:
“Aahh! You found me!”, as if I was MEANT to be meeting with her there, by some pre-arranged agreement.
Her bright smile. Her Blazing Blue, penetrating gaze. She was NO stranger to me.
I knew exactly what I was looking at, when I was looking at Donna.
Because I have looked at it in all my Life-Times.
I wrote this to my Donna - 24 February 2017 - her last Birthday:
"LOVE is the passion which endureth,
Which neither time nor absence cureth;
Which nought of earthly change can sever:
Love is the light which shines Forever.
It's chain of gold — what hand can break it?
It's deathless hold — what force can shake it?
Mere passion aught of Earth may sever,
But Souls that Love, Love on Forever".
Mary Anne Lamb
And here I am 46 years later... telling the story of The ImmortaL Love of the Witch and The Soldier.
The Bella Donna Strega. The Darkwolf. My Shiny Wife -
My Only Love, and Beautiful Friend. My Hero!
1 June - 2021.
Two paintings I did in about 1978/79.
A couple travelling on a strange planet.
Voyagers in The Undiscovered Country. Under another sky.