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Morning of August 7, 2015. Friday.



A child is at a door and cannot quite reach the doorknob (which is atypically high). I only see her silhouette.

“Here, let me get that for you…” She is gone. I hear the sound of the beanbag chair breaking. It is, as always, remote viewing.

I hate to interrupt an artist. Carroll (who looks eerily like my brother-in-law but only from some angles and only at certain times) acknowledges my presence with a respectful nod.

“What do you see?” He asks.

I find myself in a continuously changing three-dimensional landscape that is like a “real” version of “Zoo Scene”. I see what looks like giant butterflies fly about in and out of the structure. I enjoy the imagery for several minutes.

It becomes the real version. I see something that, once I see it, I cannot “unsee” it.

It is a “shark fin” within the structure that is in reality, the road going away from behind the structure. “A predator…” Carroll acknowledges me respectfully and nods.

“You are not to blame for every disadvantaged soul…or for any life ever taken,” he says.

I would tend to agree. Love and respect. In every place. In every time.