The Boat


Basil is Back!

After many years in Cambodia and Thailand, Basil is again attempting to conquer his ‘computer demon’. Internet is slow here in Ban Phe and Basil has never been in the least competent at I T.

He was however, able to build a boat in his hotel room. Strange that no one complained about the noise but then Thailand is a strange place.

After sliding it out onto the small balconey, he was able to lower it down four floors. One of the two ropes used is shown in the featured photo. It was a few feet too short but the boat came to rest as gently as a baby being laid to rest.








One day in the backwoods of Maine, Basil found himself staring into the bathroom mirror. Something strange was coming over him. He was absent mindedly staring at the area below his mouth when he seemed to catch sight of a blue light between his eyebrows. When he focused his attention there, it slowly grew dim and disappeared. He stared down at the area below his mouth; the strange light reappeared. This time he did not focus on it, but continued to stare at the spot below his lower lip but with his mind on the area of his so called, third eye. The blue light slowly faded away as the image of his face began to change. He knew he was on to something.

    He could only guess at the dangers, but it was too fascinating to ignore. It had happened by accident, though he felt some force was subtly guiding him, compelling him to continue. He stared at the spot below his mouth while continuing to concentrate on the area of his third eye.

   The image of his face began to transform into that of a weathered old man. It was hard to guess what era and what region he was from, but Basil knew he was looking at himself in a past life. He had been a man who worked the land. He could sense it. His soul could vaguely remember hoeing rough dirt fields under a baking sun. He thought of ancient Italy or Greece.

   It was tricky to maintain a balance, to stay focused, but to allow the trance-like state to take him further into this unknown realm. He realized his face was beginning to transform into another life. Sun and salt spray, wind and rough seas had turned his face to leather. He had a silver beard that disappeared at the bottom of the mirror. It was a light trance, but it was quite vivid; real, fantastic beyond any psychedelic experience he had ever imagined.

“Why me?” He thought.

   He came to on his back on the hard tile floor of his house. The ceiling was slowly coming into focus. A painful bump was rising on the back of his skull. He had passed out.

   What had just happened? He wondered. He was filled with wonder. Something extraordinary had just occurred.

   It was what he would call “the Mirror Game’’.

 The back of his head hurt and he felt like energy was escaping out of his stomach chakra. He knew he had had a paranormal experience, not his first, but certainly different and unexpected. He sensed that it was the beginning of something new, something meaningful.

   He sensed adventure and danger, the mystery of the quest. His life was opening up for him. He was taking an unexpected turn in the maze of life.

   He thought about his turbulent life and wondered how he had come to have such a peculiar life when he had been raised in a typical suburban family.

   Basil had always been different, spaced-out since childhood. Many nights he lay awake simply trying to breathe in and ou,. often with an archaic vaporizer machine spewed steam and some chemical concoction into his room. He would stare at the ceiling while attempting to breathe normally. For countless hours, while breathing slowly, he would visualize incredible images in the textures of the ceiling or wood paneling. He used his imagination to escape to a better place where he found the peace to breathe normally. It was a calming meditation that caused him to enter a trance like state.  He soon realized that he could put himself into a light trance whenever he was alone. He only needed to monitor his breathing and stare at the images that presented themselves on any wall or ceiling. Once in this state, he could escape; he was in another realm. The imaginary images would change from people at war to calming scenes of rivers and animals at home in nature.

   When he finally drifted off to sleep, he often dreamt that he was orbiting around the earth, on an endless, lonely, cyclical journey through the vastness of space; orbiting around planet earth only to arrive back at his very place of origin. It was always disconcerting to find himself back where he had started after so much travel.

   Years later, he speculated that his soul had left his body in these dream states; that he had been travelling the Slipstream; the mysterious energy that follows the ocean currents, surrounding the planet.

   He stubbornly continued to believe in Santa Clause, elves, sprites, faeries and mythical creatures. After all, he had caught glimpses of them. They watched over him during those endless nights. He had seen encouraging blue lights when suffering through his darkest times. He was teased when he once mentioned his beliefs and immediately learned to keep quiet about such things. By age six or seven, they were all expected to have given up their ‘childish’ beliefs