Mar 28, 2022·edited Mar 28, 2022Liked by Jack Heart
Back 2001, after the towers fell, the IT gravy train finally ran off the tracks and the Patriot Act was signed. I didnt need to wait any longer for the Universe to give me another clue that it was time to leave.
Me and my Swedish woman sold everything except a book that appeared in my house a while back in University. The book's title, The Three Halves Of Ino Moxo - Teachings Of The Wizard Of The Upper Amazon. An semi-autobiographical prose by Peruvian poet Cesar Calvo. A recollection of a journey wrapped into an ayahuasca session that takes you into an interdimensional realm were reality and visions are intertwined. The secrets revealed within this book created a rift to big to ignore.
We traveled Europe and Nothern Africa living in an old Volvo 240 for a year. During that time I got a certificate to teach English in Prague. I was offered a job there but knew it would be the death of me, the beer was cheaper than water and the best ever created.
Then I was offered a job in Ecuador, there was no doubt what decision to take. It was there in Ecuador outside of Coca that I met the ancient Wizards of the Amazon. Crawling from the shadows of the jungle in their animal forms the spirits materializing into their once human identities cloacked in cushmas upon entering the huarni village. Standing just outside the roofed hut silently observing me.
I laughed with Joy and clapped my hands at that moment the unlit fire in the middle began to burn with a bright blue and white flame of energy. The apprentice shaman who traded his ayahuasca potion with me for 2 bottles of Sugar cane rum stood up frightened saying something in Quechua that sounded in my ears 'the light, no the light!' And ran off never to return for rest of that epic night outside of time.
My translator/travel guide was understandably nervous, the huarni tribe was still wild and only recently stopped their practice of head shrinking. But I was not, I knew everything was as it should be, plus my woman was at my side like an anchor keeping me tethered to this world.
The shaman spirits began singing their Icaros and over the energy flame holographic images of pressed plants of the Amazon started streaming by as if looking at a microfilm at the local library. A download of knowledge... and then the journey really began.
While sitting in the hut watching the flame I was aslo standing out in the field as The Lady of Water poured down from the heavens like crystal rain over me. She materialized and invited me to follow her, there was something I needed to witness. Her beauty can not be captured by the crude logic of human tongues but someday I will try.
Funny how these so said wizards and shamans exhibit fear in the face of what they profess to believe in and teach. Between you and I if Carlos Castañeda ever saw just a few of the things I have he would have spent his life cowering in a well-lit closet. I have heard marvelous things about ayahuasca (and DMT) and even have a reader who runs a retreat for it somewhere in the Virgin Islands. I have an open invite, but I am past that now. I'm "at a place called Vertigo (¿dónde está?) It's everything I wish I didn't know," but I do and there is no turning back. We are all in Vertigo it's just that very few know and the ones that do won't say outside of David Lynch, and that's only because he uses metaphor. Here we serve it straight, that's why we're censored...
Mar 28, 2022·edited Mar 28, 2022Liked by Jack Heart
Never watched Twin Peaks. But met a guru hiding in the Galapagos Island of Isabella. An American fugitive, blues singer who was in Vertigo. Studied the book In Search of the Micralous by Gurdjieff with him. We lived in a tent in his backyard for several months. But had to leave that volcano island in a hurry because strange things started occurring. The spirits on that island didn't want us to leave, ever. But it was magical, probably should have stayed. Got invited to sail to Easter Island, and couldn't pass on that adventure.
My cowriter Orage is Gurdjieff's #1 disciple, just like the original Orage except my Orage is German, there is much about Gurdjieff in Century of the Magicians, enough to make Sean Stone now one of his biggest fans, I'm ecstatic you've joined us here Sweden.
It has been 20 yrs since studying Gurdjieff. I think I might have a look again. It definitely was reality bending at the time. I wonder how it rings after all these years.
Mar 29, 2022·edited Mar 29, 2022Liked by Jack Heart
Well this shaman was the apprentice, son of the wizard of the village. The Maestro wouldn't wouldn't see us. There was a heavy undercurrent of anger towards white 'civilization'. Which I understand because for the last 20 years Texaco was encroaching ever so closely into their jungle. It was a 2 day hike to get there and the path was littered with destruction. Scars of progress filled with oil pumps, sand, and desolation. The contrast with the primordial jungle intensified the realization that this was the frontier between two realms. One with ancient magick of natur and the other with machines, sewage and rot.
But I am certain the people in that small village located on the backwaters of the Amazon remember that crazy white Wizard who was greeted by their ancestors and nature spirits.
At 4 am while I thought I was sleeping... dreaming. In my dream I was sitting in the Maestro's hut legs crossed speaking but mostly listening to a group of timeless Wizards about the interdimensional battle between the magical world of natural forces and the dead technoworld where those forces were being blasphemied and forced into slavery. How this ancient war was spilling out into our world, among other things.
When I heard my name being called out, the vision faded and there I was sitting alone in the Maestro's hut with all his family sleeping around me in the corners. My woman was outside roaming the village calling out my name searching for me. I went out to greet her, she asked 'where the hell were you and what were you doing. You are gonna be killed.'
I explained that there was an important meeting with the Ancient Wizards and I was invited to attend. I walked for 5 days one foot in each of the 2 worlds like riding the momentum of a wave.
Back 2001, after the towers fell, the IT gravy train finally ran off the tracks and the Patriot Act was signed. I didnt need to wait any longer for the Universe to give me another clue that it was time to leave.
Me and my Swedish woman sold everything except a book that appeared in my house a while back in University. The book's title, The Three Halves Of Ino Moxo - Teachings Of The Wizard Of The Upper Amazon. An semi-autobiographical prose by Peruvian poet Cesar Calvo. A recollection of a journey wrapped into an ayahuasca session that takes you into an interdimensional realm were reality and visions are intertwined. The secrets revealed within this book created a rift to big to ignore.
We traveled Europe and Nothern Africa living in an old Volvo 240 for a year. During that time I got a certificate to teach English in Prague. I was offered a job there but knew it would be the death of me, the beer was cheaper than water and the best ever created.
Then I was offered a job in Ecuador, there was no doubt what decision to take. It was there in Ecuador outside of Coca that I met the ancient Wizards of the Amazon. Crawling from the shadows of the jungle in their animal forms the spirits materializing into their once human identities cloacked in cushmas upon entering the huarni village. Standing just outside the roofed hut silently observing me.
I laughed with Joy and clapped my hands at that moment the unlit fire in the middle began to burn with a bright blue and white flame of energy. The apprentice shaman who traded his ayahuasca potion with me for 2 bottles of Sugar cane rum stood up frightened saying something in Quechua that sounded in my ears 'the light, no the light!' And ran off never to return for rest of that epic night outside of time.
My translator/travel guide was understandably nervous, the huarni tribe was still wild and only recently stopped their practice of head shrinking. But I was not, I knew everything was as it should be, plus my woman was at my side like an anchor keeping me tethered to this world.
The shaman spirits began singing their Icaros and over the energy flame holographic images of pressed plants of the Amazon started streaming by as if looking at a microfilm at the local library. A download of knowledge... and then the journey really began.
While sitting in the hut watching the flame I was aslo standing out in the field as The Lady of Water poured down from the heavens like crystal rain over me. She materialized and invited me to follow her, there was something I needed to witness. Her beauty can not be captured by the crude logic of human tongues but someday I will try.
That is enough for now.
Funny how these so said wizards and shamans exhibit fear in the face of what they profess to believe in and teach. Between you and I if Carlos Castañeda ever saw just a few of the things I have he would have spent his life cowering in a well-lit closet. I have heard marvelous things about ayahuasca (and DMT) and even have a reader who runs a retreat for it somewhere in the Virgin Islands. I have an open invite, but I am past that now. I'm "at a place called Vertigo (¿dónde está?) It's everything I wish I didn't know," but I do and there is no turning back. We are all in Vertigo it's just that very few know and the ones that do won't say outside of David Lynch, and that's only because he uses metaphor. Here we serve it straight, that's why we're censored...
Never watched Twin Peaks. But met a guru hiding in the Galapagos Island of Isabella. An American fugitive, blues singer who was in Vertigo. Studied the book In Search of the Micralous by Gurdjieff with him. We lived in a tent in his backyard for several months. But had to leave that volcano island in a hurry because strange things started occurring. The spirits on that island didn't want us to leave, ever. But it was magical, probably should have stayed. Got invited to sail to Easter Island, and couldn't pass on that adventure.
My cowriter Orage is Gurdjieff's #1 disciple, just like the original Orage except my Orage is German, there is much about Gurdjieff in Century of the Magicians, enough to make Sean Stone now one of his biggest fans, I'm ecstatic you've joined us here Sweden.
It has been 20 yrs since studying Gurdjieff. I think I might have a look again. It definitely was reality bending at the time. I wonder how it rings after all these years.
Well this shaman was the apprentice, son of the wizard of the village. The Maestro wouldn't wouldn't see us. There was a heavy undercurrent of anger towards white 'civilization'. Which I understand because for the last 20 years Texaco was encroaching ever so closely into their jungle. It was a 2 day hike to get there and the path was littered with destruction. Scars of progress filled with oil pumps, sand, and desolation. The contrast with the primordial jungle intensified the realization that this was the frontier between two realms. One with ancient magick of natur and the other with machines, sewage and rot.
But I am certain the people in that small village located on the backwaters of the Amazon remember that crazy white Wizard who was greeted by their ancestors and nature spirits.
At 4 am while I thought I was sleeping... dreaming. In my dream I was sitting in the Maestro's hut legs crossed speaking but mostly listening to a group of timeless Wizards about the interdimensional battle between the magical world of natural forces and the dead technoworld where those forces were being blasphemied and forced into slavery. How this ancient war was spilling out into our world, among other things.
When I heard my name being called out, the vision faded and there I was sitting alone in the Maestro's hut with all his family sleeping around me in the corners. My woman was outside roaming the village calling out my name searching for me. I went out to greet her, she asked 'where the hell were you and what were you doing. You are gonna be killed.'
I explained that there was an important meeting with the Ancient Wizards and I was invited to attend. I walked for 5 days one foot in each of the 2 worlds like riding the momentum of a wave.
Considering your background, you might want to read this one Sweden https://jackheart.substack.com/p/black-sun-rising-ii-by-jack-heart?s=w