Preface to Atlantis Rising
By John William Brown
"God is in Control
We are Gods Army
Patriots in Control
In that order"
Nothing can stop what is coming
After returning to the City of Boston to live in the summer of 95', certain events started to happen that have changed my life drastically since. At the time I wasn't quite sure what was happening, but I knew something was going on in the cosmos, I could sense it. Something that I still have trouble describing, but knew something had changed, or was "about" to. There is one day in particular that stands out in my memory. I went down to this lake and hung out playing my guitar. During this bright, warm, sunny afternoon, these images started to filter through my head. They seemed to be more than "images," like a "vibration of essences" that emanated through the tones. Female essences, goddess' of sort, like that of angels. The time came to leave and I drove to pick up my girlfriend. I remember turning to her and telling her that something strange was happening to me. I remember adding, "It is big." That was all I could seem to say,...."It is big."
The name "SunSpirit" came to me about a year earlier, and I embraced it. It seemed like a "union" of sorts which served as some sort of connection to my past,... like that of a bridge, although I had no conscious recollection why at the time. I began to apply the principles of synchronicity and intuition in which I was also becoming aware of at the time. I also began to work with a computer to apply the concept of expressing these 'essences' that I was now experiencing more frequently. A little while later, I experienced an empowering vision. It contained the following message.
"Through a world wide communication system, the impressions of the ancient mysteries and the angelic messages of love and light will spread from one hand, one mind, one heart,...to another. These gifts contain activation's of sound, color, light and form that make up art, creativity and expression."
At the time, I still did not realize that the essence of this message contained a 'title' of sorts, but I was to learn about that interactive relationship that a person has with a certain image or concept that leaves an " energetic imprint", a signature of sorts, that is attuned to the 'divine consciousness". It is these activation's that act as "triggers" in awakenings. 'Attunements' to an "At-One-Ment" . I was later to become aware of this as the 'Universal Language of Light'. Then there was the internet and the possibility of reaching millions of people world wide. It is this 'relationship", this "spirituality" that most intrigued me, especially having had this particular vision.
Like a Pandora's box, once activated, there was no going back. The impulses became frequent, intense, and more defined. By the time the winter of 96' came I was spending days at a run with little sleep driven by these 'visions" of angels and unveiling legends of "ancient teachings." A family illness struck and my relationship fizzled while my own apartment went un-lived in for the better part of a year. I returned to my family to help in their care while I continued to work at home. It was a source of inspiration and healing that helped me to deal with what was happening all around me in ways that was difficult for anyone to understand, including myself. It was here that the angels began to work with me regarding 'intent to heal' in very intense ways.
During those long winter days and nites of late 95' and early 96', I began to develop the first designs, getting to know the digital applications and reading all that I could. Many hours and weeks were spent just on "feeling" my way through sketches and experimentation. I could not afford any formal training and just took it upon myself to learn everything I possibly could at home. This went on for months and then in the spring of 96' I designed my first web site. The line of art that I was producing fit perfectly for the medium. I found that for the first time an artist could produce themselves creatively and most importantly, do it independently and relatively cheap compared to conventional methods. Not only this, but to incorporate all the mediums that I had touched upon throughout my career as an artist-painting, writing, music- all of it, could now be incorporated into one singular media. Something I was never able to do before. This was a whole new world in which the medium itself became as unlimited as imagination.
I joined with Janine, a.k.a. "MoonEssence," also known as the gallery's "Goddess of Poem" in 1996 to put together a line of poetry to accompany the artwork. It was here that I was guided to incorporate the energetic imprints of 'the word'. MoonEssense was to become the vehicle for this. There was something of greater importance about this "creative/business adventure" that I was soon to discover in time. It was this joining of spirits between the "SunSpirit and Moonessence". An "invocation" of sorts, although not yet fully aware of it's implications. It is this concept of joining the Father Spirit/Mother Goddess, represented by the 'Sun and Moon', to create in the 'unifying spirit of oneness', that I was to spend the next four years re-discovering and expressing. I went on spending many months being inspired and guided by these 'angelic essences', at times their energies became overwhelming, driving me into periods of extreme isolation. I found it very difficult to explain to anyone what was happening to me out of fear of misunderstanding. In the winter of 97' the angelic visions culminated in the Gallery's "Angel Realms" collection. Then in July, the mythology renditions came through in full force resulting in the "Cosmic Mythology' series. It wasn't so much the images themselves, but what I was sensing and being guided to experience, share, and express 'through them". I was then told to leave my home behind and travel to California. At one point finding myself alongside a ridge in the California Sierra Mountains with no money, food, nor 'apparent reason' for being there. Seven trips cross country and a three year, forty thousand mile "pilgrimage" ensued. Awakenings upon awakenings. Pandora's box had been opened, and there was no closing it,... no going back. In time, the reasons became very clear. Needless to say, my life, nor the way I perceive life, has never been, nor will ever be the same again.
January 13, 2002
As I read this material in hindsight, as well as for editing, it is so obvious to me just how much I have changed. How everything has changed. I have learned so much. Yet, it's even more obvious to me just how much there is to yet to learn, for once you 'think' you know something, everything changes again. Even still, within the constant of change itself, there is the eternal 'Now". Perhaps this is the ultimate lesson to learn, for no matter how much one changes, or how far one travels, no matter where one goes, and no matter how much there is to learn,...there is always the "Now".
I have thought much about a "home" during my travels and the time since. For a Starseed, home always seems so far away. I don't believe there is a longing on Earth that can break a heart more. I can only find solace in the "Now". When I am in this certain space, I picture a huge bright blue sky with lots of white, cumulus clouds streaking from one horizon to the other. And in the center of the sky there is a one, solitary ray of light from the sun that parts the clouds and streams down to the ground. I stand in the center of this golden ray of light, and no matter how fast the clouds may past me by, I remain in this center of light. While the skies may grow darker and the ground moves beneath my feet in constant change, there is peace and stillness within this ray of light from the Great Central Sun........It is my home. My 'world within a world'.
In an ironic twist of fate, I have returned to the very room, the very space in which I first began to write almost five years ago. The focus of the documented journals that follow, beginning in June of 1997, was to become my invocation for passing through a threshold, re-awakening me to a multi-dimensional, intelligent, conscious universe in the most wondrous, magical and mystical ways. Over time, I came to learn of a term called, stichomancy. It is the practice of seeking metaphysical insight by reading a random passage from a book, the art of seeking spiritual guidance through the written word. So many times the written word did indeed guide me along, as you will see, like a voice in the darkness, enlightening the path like a beacon of light. And now, this path is to be shared, for I know how alone one can feel while traveling such a path as this. But we are never alone and nothing is without reason.
A few weeks ago I began to take my first steps towards public exhibits in an Art Gallery in Salem, Massachusetts. I have chosen a very long road to get there. Ironically, it's a town in which I first began exhibiting my artwork during outdoor, Saturday craft markets in a cobblestone 'Derby Square' over twenty years ago as a teenager just out of High School. Indeed it's been a long, winding road. A dream of sorts, the likes that would be difficult to explain. The exhibit is to be held at a place called 'Galant Gallery'. The owner tells me it's French interpretation is 'The Enduring Spirit'. Talk about coming full circle. Which leads me into a little story I feel that may have some relevance to the following material as a whole.
One may be well aware of the heritage regarding Salem, Massachusetts, it's history, as well as it's present day company of witches and pagans. If there is anyplace in America for a 'SunSpirit' to come home and roost, it is here. Yet, there I was, fresh out of school, naive and green in many ways, yet full of wide-eyed wonder. I had just finished taping my prints to the brick walls in this corner square, sitting back to take in this Saturday afternoon at the market. It was always a job and a half seeing that most the time I would travel with back packs, portfolio's and easels draped around my neck, half strangling myself. The best time of day was those few hours between unpacking everything before packing it all up again. Kicking back on a few cobblestones this one day in particular, I recall watching this very old woman approach, complete with a cane, a shawl, ..the works. No kidding, your typical Salem 'witch' walking right off the pages of a history book. She crossed my path and walked straight into my booth as I stood back to take her all in. I was waiting for her black cat to appear behind her. She never said a word, taking her time as she hobbled slowly from one picture to the next. She would get right up close, within inches, looking at each and every picture intently. Not once did she look or acknowledge me, as I just sat back and watched her ever so curious as to who she was. I wondered if she too was an artist, and yes, I have to admit, I did wonder if she was indeed a witch. She had this dark wooden cane, a black shawl she wore over her head and down her shoulders. She even had the black strapped boots. After about a half an hour of passing from one picture to the next, she arrived at the last one on the wall. I for sure was not going to let her pass without at least attempting to talk to her. Just as I was about to walk up to her she turned and began to hobble towards me. She walked right up close, barely reaching my shoulders, raised her finger in my face and in the most typical old witch crackling voice said,........
"You my son, will be famous some day".
That was all she said. She turned and began to hobble away, cane and all. I was so taken back I never uttered a word. I just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. Her beady little eyes and scratchy voice forever etched in my memory. I watched her as she crossed out of sight. What I would ask her if I could ever have that moment back. I suppose it's every young artist dream to be recognized, or even to become famous. But that was a very long time ago. After a while you come to know quite well why even the most famous of artists struggle, for they can do nothing else. You come to know that it is not about fame, nor recognition. You realize that beyond the love and passion of whatever work you do as an artist, there is nothing you would rather do, then be who and what you are,...no matter what. You learn that success comes with acceptance, or forever struggle in vain.
So it is this enduring spirit who comes home. If it is to make a simple living, to learn, or perhaps to teach some, so let it be. The nite I booked the showing at Galant Gallery, I walked the wharf where I once pushed a cart full of etchings and showed my friend where I played as a child. The crisp nite and sea air felt good. We then walked into a shop called "Nu Aeon", meaning "New Age". I asked about a book I saw in the window. I took it home and read;
"So that according to the Teachings, the passage of this book to those ready for the instruction will attract the attention of such as are prepared to receive the Teaching. And, likewise, when the pupil is ready to receive the truth, then will this little book come to him, or her. Such is the Law. The Hermetic Principle of Cause and Effect, in it's aspect of The Law of Attraction, will bring lips and ear together-pupil and book in company. So mote it be! "
And so it has been ever since that fateful June evening five years ago now when I picked up my copy of the 'Dancing Star' and held it in my hands.
The following story evolves around a series of journals and correspondences that began in June of 1997. They document my personal journey and experiences that culminate in April of 2000.
Introduction; "Atlantis Rising; Awakening of an American Artist"
Part One; "Initiation"
Part Three:"Return of the White Dove"
FULL EDITION (461 pages) EBOOK NOW AVAILABLE
For Only $11.11 !!
https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/john-brown/atlantis-rising-awakening-of-an-american-artist/ebook/product-14m8vkvq.html" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Atlantis Rising;
Awakening of an American Artist
Grand Canyond 1978
Pastels and Watercolor BY John W Brown
Pastels and Watercolor
By John W Brown
Photography and Watercolor
by John Brown
Watercolor by John W Brown
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