The Visitors

Category: Painting
Location: Eugene, Oregon
Date: about 1990


I never saw anything like this of course but the image just came to me one day, asking to be painted. I had fun doing it. I was just getting into the whole UFO abduction/alien realm, and it was after my experiences with the "orange orb" and missing time. It's acrylic painted on masonite (the rough side) and measures about 24" x 30"

"Giant Crab From Space" Adventures in the Trance State

Date: June 12, 2009
Location: Eugene, Oregon
Category: dreams, trance, meditation, astral plane, symbols


Link to Alien Seeker News of space visions dancing in my head during a light trance state: Giant Crab From Space: Adventures in a Trance State.

Shared Experiences, Connections

Category: Craft, desert sightings, nighttime sightings, shared experiences
Location: California, Arizona
Date: 1950s, 1980s

I have an article at UFO Digest right now that discusses the connections I and my husband have regarding the UFO phenomena, our childhood experiences, etc. "Like You, You Probably Were Abducted . . ."

Speaking of connections among people that know each other, or families. . . my uncle and his family had a sighting in the California desert in the 1950s, not sure of the exact date. Typical, almost: night, alone out there in the middle of nowhere, huge light comes from out of nowhere, follows them, hangs out for awhile above their car, then zooms off. My husband's cousins, along with a group of friends, had a similar experience in the Arizona desert, at night, with a green beam of light coming down from the craft to the surface of the desert floor. Believe me, if you know this individual, he does not elaborate or make things up; very straight as an arrow kind of person.

Alien Ant Watercolor

This was originally posted on my The Orange Orb blog in June of 2008.


Untitled, watercolor 1979? by James Rich


This painting is a watercolor Jim did many years ago, when we were first together. I remember when he painted it. It's a small watercolor on paper; about 18" by 18". He was going through his old portfolios last night and found it.

I told him it was an "interesting painting" and that it reminded me of an alien; some kind of alien painting. He said he had no idea what was going on when he painted that; what he was thinking or why he painted it. No recollection of the inspiration or what he was trying to do.

He asked me what I meant by "alien painting" I said, well, it immediately, for some reason, just screamed alien and spaceship at me. I have the impression the ant is female, very large, "alien," and is holding something, some sort of tablet. Jim looked at it and said he saw what I meant. I reminded Jim of all the giant insect alien stories; usually praying mantis type creatures, or giant grasshopper type beings some speak about in connection with UFO encounters. After he looked at it he said it reminded him of a female being as well; probably because of the way it's sitting and the long robe or whatever it is it/she is wearing.

It was at that time that Jim and I were experiencing a lot of unusual UFO events, including an episode of missing time. I had my "Geisha Woman Alien" dream during that time frame.

Speaking of alien insectoid beings, in a bit of synchronicity I was listening to George Noory last night on C2C. (By the way, say what you will about him, and I have, he is a goof ball in many ways, but he was defending the medical marijuana use law in California, so good for him) and he and a caller were sharing praying mantis stories. Not in the context of aliens or UFOs however, more mundane than that. And earlier today I read Richard Thomas Room 101 column on Binnall of America, where he writes about Ghosts, Aliens, Yeti and the Late Great Nigel Kneale British "father" of sci fi television and movies. Which inspired me to post something on my blog Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch with this image:

I'm deathly, pathologically afraid of insects. I had some chilling experiences as a child -- I won't go there, far too personal and wrapped up in family dysfunction abuse horrors -- but at the same time, I don't like to see people just stomp on insects for no reason. (There was also a weird event in Crescent City, California, involving a Japanese beetle, alcoholic abusers though not to me, hmm, a theme here I see, and I kid you not, a real life scene with "Deliverance" type redneck hillbillies, complete with shotguns and a truck full of pitbulls. But I digress.) (And there was another thing with a bumble bee when I was a kid, and my sister as well, I found out years later, that has to do with missing time and high strangeness.)I'll certainly go out of my way to kill bugs in the house, depending on what kind; wasps, etc. Others I take outside. Well, okay, I try to get Jim to take them outside, but the point is, I don't like killing things if I can help it.

Well, that all took a weird turn, I see. As disjointed as all this might seem, one thing stands out: a conflicting relationship with insects. I like some of them, they're pretty, many are harmless, etc. Others I am fearful of to the point of vomiting. People with encounters with giant insectiod alien beings report both terrifying experiences, as well as ones of learning, wisdom and beauty. Why this contrast? Are our mundane encounters a relfection, on a symbolic level, of these experiences?

"Night Visitor" Painting of a Childhood Memory

Night Visitor, Regan Lee 1990
acrylic on Masonite

This is a painting I did several years ago. At that time, I was trying to paint images of beings/visitors from my childhood. The ones I tried to do of the "aliens" that floated me out the door always ended up like stick figures, with inverted triangle/oval outlines for the face, but no features. I realized the other day I've made many paintings and drawings of figures, usually female forms, with these inverted triangle/oval faces, always featureless. I seem to place them alone in a room by a window revealing a night sky.

The painting shown here is a little underexposed, but it's the only image I have right now; the painting is big and heavy (painted on a large thick piece of Masonite) and packed away somewhere. I just started painting it; I remember feeling compelled and it just all came out very quickly; this large "Night Visitor" and at the time, the full title was "Night Visitor on Sherbourne Street" (even though the name was actually Sherbourne Drive but I thought Street sounded better.) That was the house I lived in in Los Angeles between the ages of six to about fourteen, and the house where the fuzzy puppet wolves and beings that floated me out the door came.

As to this being in the painting, I never saw anything like this, but I remember the feeling. . . it's as if the image came up from my subconscious in a very vivid and strong way and represents something that has a connection to all this.

Silver Spinning UFO

Category: UFO sighting, missing time, screen memory
Location: Lorane Highway, outside of Eugene, Oregon
Date: late 1980s


This is a photo of the field where Jim and I saw a silver, spinning, hovering UFO. This photo was taken a few weeks ago; the sightings occured in the late 1980s, but, considering the changes in tree lines, etc. it's still pretty accurate. In fact, while we were standing there, discussing the sighting and taking pictures, we both got very anxious.

The UFO was a dull silver color; it was very low and hovering, spinning or rotating in place. A white beam of light was coming down onto the field from the underside of the object. It was still light outside; late afternoon.

This sighting has a lot of high strangeness; missing time, screen memories or cover memories -- for example, to this day we still disagree about what the events were before and after the sighting -- and so on. The only thing we are absolutely in agreement about is the fact we saw this thing, remember it and the location, and remember commenting how very weird it was. We remember driving by, slowing down, wondering if we should stop and get out and look, and wanting to, but at the same time, being very adamant we should do no such thing. We kept driving.

The photo below is a bit silly; it's a Christmas tree ornament, and shinier than the UFO we saw. Also, the UFO we saw was more of a flattened oval, not a sphere. But you get the idea.

Multi-Layered Sleep Walking?

Category: dreams, astral plane, altered state, limbo, missing time
Location: Los Angeles, California
Date: 1965

This incident happened when I was eleven. I woke up for school, got dressed, ate,never once realizing how weird it was no one else was up yet. I go into my mother's bedroom, where she's still asleep. I woke her up to tell her it was time to go to school. She was both very irritated and surprised. She said to me "What are you talking about?! It's four o'clock in the morning!" I insisted it wasn't; I remember looking at the clock and seeing it as 8:30, but she had to tell me a few times the real time before a shift happened in my head, and then I saw that it was the real time.

I remember this very clearly; getting up, getting dressed by the heater. We set out our uniforms the night before in front of the heater, to stay warm while we dressed. Our house was a two bedroom, one bath house, with at least five people living in it, sometimes more, depending. (other relatives, etc.) I remember getting dressed and going about everything very matter of factly, never once thinking how weird it was that no one else was up.

Sleepwalkers don't remember their excursions. I'm not sure this was sleepwalking, since I didn't have a sleepwalking problem, and I remember the whole thing quite clearly, awake the whole time. Yet looking at the clock and seeing "my" time not the real time, not at all concerned no one else was up, etc.

One Hell of a Heavy Dream About Aliens

Category: Dream
Location: Eugene, Oregon
Date: February 2009

Last night I had a very intense and vivid dream; a lucid dream (waking up during the dream commenting that I had to be sure to write it down and tell it to others when I awoke) and I even woke up during the dream, went back to sleep, and continued the dream.

BEHIND THE SHED
I'm talking with my mother, who tells me she ran into the woman who lived next door to us when we were kids.(we lived in Los Angeles, time frame would be the early 1960s.) The woman "Mrs. Smith" told my mom she had reclaimed a patch of yard from behind our shed.

At first, I didn't know what mom was talking about. My mother was insistent: "Remember, you and grandma would go back there and do stuff, plant things." No, I didn't remember. It wouldn't make sense for us to go back there and "plant things" since it was dark and overgrown, and not much room.

(In real life, we did have a neighbor, we did have a long narrow shed that we rarely used or went in back of. There were some overgrown bushes completely covering a fence; a house in back of that, and Mrs. Smith's on one side, an alley or walkway on the other and the alley behind that.)

After a lot of pressing on my mother's part, I did remember. And I became unglued. For yes, I did remember: going back there with my grandmother all right. I remembered the abuse; the sexual abuse that went on back there.

I couldn't believe it. I was devastated. In the dream, I was crying, all these memories just came flooding in. I was screaming at my mother: "All these years, all these years! And why now, at this late age? Why now, after so much time, do I finally remember this horrible past?!"

I am just so ... angry, and sad. And yet somehow I'm not surprised. In the dream, I say that I have to tell others, and deal with this.

SPONTANEOUS DRAWINGS
A few days go by. My mom and I are in the house we grew up in (the one where, in "real life" she saw a UFO, and where I had my interactions with the "puppet wolves" and my "invisible aliens.") I tell her I have something extremely important to tell her -- to show her. I am agitated. Scared. I have a sense of urgency.

She asks me if it's about my grandmother, and what happened behind the shed. Yes, I say, but. . .

I remembered, a sort of dream within the dream that, yes, my grandmother and I did go behind the shed, but it wasn't abuse. She did not abuse me.

She and I had interactions with aliens. We'd go back there to meet with them.

Then I showed my mother drawings I made of what they looked like. Oddly enough, not of their faces -- it seems even in dreams I can't remember their faces -- but drawings of their hands, which were sort of claw like, semi-webbed hands, and their clothing, wide, red sleeves stopping just short of their wrists. I show her these drawings I've made, in colored pencil, that I've scanned into the computer. I'm scrolling through on the laptop, showing her drawing after drawing.

I am shocked that I remember this in such detail and it all comes back to me, after all these years, and in such a spontaneous way. I am not happy; this isn't a good thing and it's scary. I realize I have to tell people. In fact, in the dream I speak with one UFO researcher who tells me it's unusual to have "spontaneous recall" in such detail. He's surprised I remember this without being hypnotized.

I keep saying to my mother things like: "This shit really happened! It really happened! That's what was going on back there!"

I don't like this at all. Not at all.

Well, dreams are strange. Relating dreams are always tricky, for one thing, most people (at least in this culture) think they're boring, unless they're your own. And it's impossible to convey the emotional strength, the intensity of a dream. In this dream, the emotions were just overwhelming, along with the fear.

The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

Category: Dreams, shared experiences, entities
Location: Los Angeles, California
Date: 1950s - 1960s

This was originally published on Tim Binnall's Binnall of America website for my Trickster's Realm column, July, 2007.

The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

When I was a child, I’d intentionally wait for “them.” “They” didn’t come until I was ready; until I had gone through all the little steps. Going through the little steps, the delicious wait, and then the floating through the bedroom door, the hall door, the front door and outside and up into the starry sky, was a happy time.

I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.

I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.

Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.

Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.

The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.

Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)

I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.

Another synchronicity between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can't ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.

The Wolf as Totem
I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.

But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.

Puppet Symbolism and Invisibility
It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.

Invisible Aliens
In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I've had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.

There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, -- or us to protect ourselves -- as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.

(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)

Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?

I wonder if I’ll ever know.

Eerie Raccoon Moments

Category: Animals, screen memories, cover memories
Location: Eugene, Oregon
Date: 1980s
Is there anything to this memory of raccoons looking into our house, right at us, during the day?