"Atlantis Rising; The Awakening of an American Artist"
Introduction to Part Two: "Activation"
By John William Brown
There is this one night in particular that I'm continuously drawn back too. It was a time right after I returned to Boston from my first trip to Yosemite, California in late November of 1997. A snowy, January winter nite, and the "chance" conversations with a Mr. Dimarino in regards to the Solarian Legacy, the Hermetic's, and "spiral energies". Little did I know then, that what I thought I knew or was remembering that nite,.....was to soon come to pass.
"Where I have been does not exist in time any more. I like to be in the "now". When you are in the now, you are better prepared to learn from the past ............and see what is yet to come."
Dedicated to Mr. DiMarino
and the Angels-
Where ever and Who ever
you may be.
Journal Entry- January 20th, 1998
Earlier this evening I was sitting in the train station on a bench reading my book, "The Solarian Legacy" by Paul Von Ward. I had about a half hour before my train pulled into the station. I had been focused on the upcoming insights that I was currently having earlier in the day about the Hermetic Principles, the foundations or "bridge" that transforms all energy to the physical realm. I wanted to spend the time outlining and preparing for a possible workshop at some point in the future. Since I was absorbed in reading at the time, I never saw this gentleman appear next to me. I happened to look up as he was questioning me as to whether or not this place had a clock. As he proceeded to sit down, I pointed out the time on the train monitor that hung from the station's ceiling. He said he couldn't see it, so I told him it was 7:31. He told me he had a 8 o'clock to catch. I knew he was going to be on the Rockport train with me because that was the only train scheduled out at that time. He asked if they would announce it and I told him they probably would. I assumed that he did not often travel this route.
As he continued to speak, that 'feeling" crept in again. It's so familiar to me now that I recognize it instantly. My senses become very attuned, a kind of "knowing" is the best way I can describe it. As he sat down, he looked at me nonchalantly and asked what I was reading, as if he already knew. Either that or he was just making conversation. I then replied, "Solarian Legacy. " He said, "Ohhhhh, so you are into Solar, are you?" Just then a small rush of energy sort of swept through me, recognizable in it's frequency now, a familiar, distinct pattern. So identifiable now after constant fine tuning, I immediately take notice. I gave him a long stare where our eyes met. He was an older gentleman with a grey goatee, dark eyes, a long black trench coat and one of those french berets on top his head. He looked like a perfect stereotype of an European painter. I then closed my book, it was time to pay attention. With a coy smile, I responded, "Yes, I am into Solar." I then went on to describe this particular book. I told him that it is a brand new book just out on the market. I told him how I came across it through the Boston Globe retail store where publishers donate new books and they are then read by the newspapers critics. They then resell them at a very cheap cost and use the money for charity. I had found my new favorite book store. He nodded knowingly. I then asked him, with a slant of knowing expectation what his reply would be,"Are you into Solar?" He then said, "Ohhh yes, I am into Solar, and whats beneath it, what is all around it, up and down, and in between," he said with a smile. Along with a somewhat cocky attitude, yet a playful smile, he then went on to tell me he was a world renowned painter, from a very famous family. There was a slight pause and I replied that I too was an artist. "I know you are," he said. "I could tell, that's why I am talking to you now."
By now I knew exactly what was going on and attuned my senses the best I could, making like a tape recorder and reminding myself to remember all that is said. To listen, and ask all the right questions. I asked him what his name was and he went on for about 10 seconds rattling this very long name the sounds of something like, "I'm Di Marino San something, something,something, ....of the Sea". There must have been seven parts to his name that he so proudly exclaimed. He went on and told me that his family were great lawyers during the Renaissance and even told me of a book that was written on them. I was somewhat taken by his exquisite name and family history that I handed him the book I was reading and asked him to write down the name of the book he had mentioned about his family. He then took it and said, "Tell you what, I will do this for you instead. Where shall I do this, right here? " He then began to sketch on the back cover. As I leaned over ever so curious, he began drawing these small groups of circular, cylindrical shapes. He then grouped them together and connected them with contoured lines into a profile of a face, with what seemed to be a bird with wings on top and one below it. I loved it. Within a few minutes he was done. He then signed it 'Di Marino' with a genuine artistic flare. He then presented it to me and said, "Here you are, for you. When I die, you can buy yourself a brand new Mercedes with this." I accepted it with half a chuckle and he quickly shot a glare at me with a glean in his eye and exclaimed, "Yes! I'm serious,....you will be able too! " I then held out my hand saying thank you, shook his hand, then told him my name. I said it would be a lot easier to remember then his. He laughed and said, "but of course! " He then proceeded to sing "John Browns Body". We both laughed. "Like I have never heard that before," I retorted. We went on and talked some more. I wanted to remember everything that was being said. It all seemed so directly related to what was happening to me at this particular stage of my life, it was eerie. I just seemed to stare at him and all the sounds about us seemed to fade in the background. I held his sketch in my hands looking at it intently as he spoke. I caught myself half listening to him and half transfixed by the face that was now imprinted on the back cover of my book. The announcement for our train came over the loud speaker and with it immediately snapped me back to the "now". I told him that was our train. He seemed to be happy to hear "our train?" I said yes, but only one stop and asked him if we could have a chat till then. He gladly accepted and we got up to board the train.
He told me of his destiny in Gloucester, a rural, well to do coastal community on the north shore of Boston. I asked if he was raised there, and he said yes. He went on to tell me how he has done over eleven hundred drawings and over five hundred paintings. We entered the train and as we came upon our seats he told me how he could not sit going against the grain. He had to be in the seats that were facing the direction of the way we would be moving. I quipped, "So, you like to see where you are heading instead of where you have been, hey?" He smiled and said, "Oh yes, where I have been does not exist in time any more. I like to be in the now. When you are in the now, you are better prepared to learn from the past .......and see what is yet to come." We talked some more about how he was taken out to Route 128, the industrial belt of Massachusetts, and how they "used" him for studying lineage on the computer. He said he showed them how to obtain 'multi-dimensional' imaging. I said, "So, they studied you, huh? " He chuckled, "Oh yes, I taught them everything! I taught them theology and psychology, mathematics, science, and this and that, what more do they want? " he exclaimed. The conversation went on without a break. I was still amazed as he continued talking about all related subjects to what I have been currently working on. All the time, I noticed that I hadn't told him much about myself, never had the chance really. I then realized I didn't need to. Some how he already knew who I was. Somehow, I felt he knew more about me then I knew of myself, it was amazing. What he was saying seemed directly related to my studies of late. His comments and the way he spoke, the way he looked at me squarely in the eyes after mentioning something nonchalantly, seeing if I had been paying attention. The intent, knowing, so familiar, as if he could read my mind. He spoke, and I intently listened. He spoke as if it was very important that I listened. He kept saying, 'Now listen to me". I was thinking, as if the topics were not significant in of itself, but the timing, again, the timing of such an encounter. The correspondence. The synchronicity. This is what was astounding me. The correlations, when one insight, one random intertwining event, leads to another and they all relate. The intensity increased along with the focus. He continued on, not allowing for much of a break in the conversation. When there was one, he would turn away, then turn right back and say, "And let me tell you another thing." I would allow him, knowing well enough to just keep listening.
He spoke of so many things, so vast. In the middle of making a point about symbols, energy, and consciousness, he took back my book and opened to the drawing he had made earlier. With this he noticed the design on the front cover. It was Leonardo DaVinci's famous painting of the "Vitruvian Man". He said, "There, like this! DaVinci, one of my very first teachers! " He then turned to the back cover again. "You see these symbols?" I was so taken by his drawing of the mans profile, bird, and "cyclic spirals" that he created, that I never noticed that he inscribed four symbols right above where he had signed his name. A square, a circle, a spiral, and a triangle. He went on to elaborate, speaking of them in reference to mathematical equations and degree's. He pointed out that the square and the triangle are basic forms consisting of diagonal and straight lines, and their particular relationships to 'planes of consciousness'. He told me to pay attention to the diagonals, for they are very important. He then went on to the circle and explained the relationships on how that was universal and all encompassing. Then he came to the spiral and this struck me as ever so intensely. I have been studying lately, through several sources I may add, about the 'cyclical forces' of energy. He then put his hand on his forehead and said, "Right here, in the minds eye, this power chakra. Rub it, rub it until you see blue man, blue! When it turns white, follow the spiral of light. The now is the time of the mind." He went on, "Follow this spiral, this shape, this symbol," pointing again at the sketch on the book. "It is of utmost importance during this time of transition. Follow it up from the earth, through your body, and connect to the cosmos through your crown chakra. The soft spot on the back of your head." He then smiled and said, "The light, ohhhh the light! "
Suddenly, I felt a shift of understanding in regards to what I have been researching, what he was referring too, and all the lessons of late relating to the 'spiral forces', the connection of the earth and cosmos. I turned to him and added, "Unparalleled! " He agreed enthusiastically, "Stellar!" I said, "Yes, cosmic!" He said, "Divine. Do this, and you will attain Dharma..... Truth, and you will have access to the absolute. Follow it. Listen to it. Envision it! " The intent of his voice became highly charged, totally focused. He leaned over closer to me and looking straight into my eyes went on to say in the most aggressive, yet whispered, assuring way, "You", pointing his finger at my heart and pressing into my chest, "are on the right path. Don't let anyone", he then repeated, pressing into my chest with his finger once again, "ANYONE, tell you otherwise. And I think you" , he stopped himself right there and then corrected himself, "No, when you think, you are not sure. What I meant to say is this. I KNOW you will achieve your goals. Stay on this journey, do not dater, and you will set standards for future generations to follow. Just think of the people that you will help. I am here to assure you, to encourage you to go on. You have taken on the most noble of causes. It is a calling. It is a chosen path. I know how hard your path is. Be a warrior! Not a warrior that kills and destroys, but a fighter, one that endures.
Through your sacrifice, your pain, you will have what is yours, and no one will be able to take this from you. No one can take away your path,....your truth!. It is yours, and it will endure for all time."
I did not know what to say, I was completely astounded, numbed and paralyzed. I still can't find the words to describe the way I felt. We were looking into each others eyes and I could feel that he saw right through me. I had never even had the chance to mention anything about such a "journey", such a sacrifice, such pain, such a 'goal'? I never once mentioned anything about such a thing. How was he to know of any goals of mine? Simply because I was reading a particular book? How was he able to speak to me, to reach me in such a way as to make such profound and timely gestures? The Hermetics and the theory's of mat-energy were swirling about my mind in patterns of thriving spirals, penetrating a place in my heart. My eyes welled up and I had this lump in my throat. I managed to utter, "Thank you...Sir. " There was this permeation of knowing, so familiar now, so concentrated, so focused. I wanted to ask him who he really was, but I knew better. I have learned not to question certain things. Who he was, how he knew of such a journey, and even if there was one, was beyond me. Yet, it wasn't. I couldn't question this now. I could only listen,....absorb. It did not matter to me at the moment who he was, or why he was telling me this. It was what was being said that mattered the most. In the most profound ways, I was "re-membering" as if waking from a dream.
He turned away but for a moment, now sitting back more relaxed. After a glance out the window as to pinpoint were we were in the darkness, he then looked back with a smile and said, "You will be a good teacher someday, I can tell,...you will teach well". I could only shake my head, thinking to myself, but I haven't even said a word. I then smiled back and nodded.
In the distance I could hear the conductor open the compartment door as he does every nite approaching my stop and yelled out, "Chelsea,..Chelsea!". I could only again utter a thank you. We shook hands and he grabbed my fist like they did in the sixties and said, "I love you brother, you'll be alright." I said, "Thank you DiMarino. I love you too brother."
I put my book away, picked up my back-pack, and rose out of my seat. I took a few steps and turned around, still a smile as broad as could be on my face. Our eyes met once again and he smiled back and nodded in affirmation as if to say,..."go on". I walked down the length of the car as I then felt somewhat uneasy, a little eerie. I wanted to turn around again and take one more look back, as if to make sure he was still there indeed. I had an awful thought for just a moment that I may have imagined this entire conversation. I wanted to look behind me, but I didn't dare. I wanted to look at my book, but it was in my bag. A thought flashed through my mind of me sitting there on a train talking to some 'ghost" for the past half hour. I got to the end of the car and just smiled again, shaking my head as if to tell myself to cut it out, what a foolish thought. Yet, I still didn't dare turn. I stood facing the door. The train came to a stop, I got off and didn't turn around until the train had passed me by. I stood in the middle of the tracks, feeling the vibrations as the train pulled out. It then disappeared through the snow that had just begun to fall. Around the corner, under the bridge, ....out of sight and sound. My knees began to shake and a rush of compassion feel over me like a storm. I just stood there in the middle of these train tracks in the darkness with tears rolling down my face. I could not understand, but yet I did. I did not know why, but yet I knew. I did not know him, but yet I did. I turned to walk home, hurried inside, turned on my computer, and began to write.
The timing, the vibrations, the knowing, the expectancy. The recognition and the patterns. They all are increasing in transmissions as of late. I have recently asked for guidance and just earlier today I prayed. I prayed for Spirit not to give up on me, to not leave me here alone. To send me a sign for I was fearing that I have been drifting further away. I was struggling in the midst of a duality. Being pulled down, twisted and tested, drifting further from the oneness I was so attuned too not so long ago. Hanging on to the words that my teacher had told me, "Learn to live in a world, within a world. You are in this world,...but not of it".
Today I was sent an angel as a physical being. A gentle, encouraging, reassuring spirit. I am grateful. At very least, he is who he said he was, and someday I'll buy myself a new Mercedes! With that thought I then grabbed my bag and opened my book, and sure enough, it was still there. It was indeed.
End of Journal Entry
I "bumped" into Mr. DiMarino once again about a month later. Although not as intense, there was one significant detail that stands out from the second "chance" meeting. I began to tell him of the adventures and purpose of my first visit to California and how I hoped to return soon. I had taken out a photograph to show him of the area in which I was to visit. He took the photograph and held it up to his forehead, his 'third eye". After a second or two, he handed it back to me and quickly prompted, "It is done. All that you seek,..will be done".
A couple months later I was to return to California for ten days. Then once again six months later, spending almost a year on top of a mountain camp to experience the most intense interactions to date in the Sierra's, including an Easter Sunday I will never forget. What transpired ultimately takes on a much more encompassing significance with a trip to Joshua Tree, California one year later in April of 2000. In hindsight, so much that has been written in these journals has now been understood and come to pass through the most profound ways. The more that was realized, the further the story goes back in time. Perhaps lifetimes. Three years and forty thousand miles of traveling the country from New England to Florida, to Tennessee, to California and back again. Pages and pages of writing journals in tents, cabins, trailers, planes, buses and cars. Being told to keep hours and hours of audio, images, messages and insights for documentation. At times, being played out like a real life "Celestine Prophecy."
What was it all for, .....only time would tell.
Introduction to Part Three;
"Atlantis Rising; Return of the White Dove"
Preface;The SunSpirit Story
Part One"The Initiation"
Part Three; "Return of the White Dove"
August 13, 2018
Its been twenty years since I first wrote about Mr. DiMarino and my experience that snowy night in Boston in January of 1998. Most of what has happened in my life since has been shared on this web site, except for one important connection in which I have never shared in its entirety,...until now.
After spending a few years decompressing from my experiences shared in Atlantis Rising, I began my 're-integration" into mainstream society in April of 2004, eventually settling down in Newburyport Massachusetts.
It was here that shades of Mr. DiMarino began to reappear in my life. The 're-connection" first began in tales form the Spirit of Sedona in Amesbury via an 'apprentice" of a "Mr DiMarino". In April of 2006, I opened my current art business, the Spirit of Newburyport, at 49 Water Street. By then I had figured out that Mr John DiMarino, who's signature had been left all over Newburyport some twenty years earlier in a flourishing art career, unknowingly to me, was indeed the same individual I had first met in January of 1998.
A little more than a year after opening by current business, I met Mr. DiMarino once again at my gallery home in Newburyport (See Photo Below). It was here that my life began to come full circle in an awakening experience that is still being currently played out. There could not have been another city in this country that would have fulfilled this purpose as described in my latest manuscript; 'John Brown Returns; Newburyport Origins of the New World Order'.
The process originally accelerated in early 2006 with a social exhibit I first entitled Newburyport; An American Perspective. This 'social project" has now manifested itself ten years later with the evolution of the Artisans Revival.
If I had not experienced this story firsthand, I would not have believed it myself. This is John Di Marino on the left, photographed outside of 49 water Street on 'Cushing's Wharf" in Newburyport. The 'Center' of the United States of America. The second man in from the left is Eddie Gandolfo. He was on the train the second time I met Mr. Di Marino in 1998. I have just completed a video interview with Eddie a few months ago and can be seen on the Artisans Revival web site.
Awakening of an American Artist
Preface;The SunSpirit Story
Part One"The Initiation"
Part Three; "Return of the White Dove"
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