Some people speak of  being in the Vortex, athletes talk of the Zone; I prefer to call it the Field of Creativity because it cannot be explained. If you think you can describe it, that is not it. I am not in the Field. When my daughter was just learning to write she took her coloured pencils and letter by letter wrote, “I ARE THE KING”.  “I” am not in the Field, I are the field.

Creativity never did begin with a Big Bang and it will never end. God didn’t get the weekend off after he/she did a little bit of universe creating. The thing was and is forever moulded and remoulded into blossoming ever-changing emptiness. Yet everything always remains precisely in its proper place.

Therein lies one catastrophic hitch to the plan. When it came to creating human beings he/she must have been over-worked, because in the enormifisity of completing the mother-board of the human brain’s computer a little chip was overlooked. The one that would have allowed the species to grasp the perfection of the universal Field and not sink into Fear, Stress and Greed.

Well, I guess no-one is perfect!

Even so, some enthusiastic missionaries preach the words of the committed optimist trying hard to convince themselves that everything in the world is fine, even joyful, with flocks of blue-birds singing in evergreen trees!

And yet … … and yet someone else is crying. You can hear them through the curtains of their life. Shrouds of fear flutter their dismay at the cruelty of life’s lottery.

For many of us, help is not at hand. Philosophy confirms hopelessness. Religions carve divergent paths. History replays its bitter lessons.

In the mournful distance the drums echo the militant news of the decades. Bow down. Bow down. Genuflect to the mighty. Bend the knee in worship of the conqueror.

And yet … … and yet even into the distressed mind quietly creeps the unquenchable soul, like a tiptoeing angel at the birth of a bright new era. There has to be confusion, hesitation, disruption and chaos before we allow change to take up the momentum.  The heavens at this time are taking huge lungfuls of breath before the winds can subside. Extreme hurricanes are serving the cosmic need to blast away our sluggish response to the years of ignorance. None of us can say they haven’t noticed the swarm of earthquakes we have been enduring. It is Earth Mother’s wake up call. Greed has blinded us to the harmony of companionship in the highest level. We have allowed the physical organs of our bodies to be distorted, scrunched and abused by the poisons of directed institutional Fear. The natural need for survival has become the calculating tool of the Merchants of Stress.

But  they too are immersed in the universal Field. No one gets out free! Sadly for them, they cannot comprehend that they too are an integrated component of the Field of existence.

Pachamama watches the children play with the box of matches. Papatuanuku enigmatically smiles – it’s lesson time.  Kwan Yin rests the palms of her hands over her heart, acknowledging the Cosmic pulse.

The sleeping population – you – finally awakens to the mortal destruction of their precious DNA, the crippling power of  induced cancerous cells and artificially created pandemics.

And yet… and yet… We are the Field! That’s us. We are not the people, we are the Creative Universe in Action.

The Owl and the Armageddon

As early as 1976 I had begun researching  the similarities between psychic predictions and scientific truths. By July 1984 I was on location filming my docu-drama “God Doesn’t Play Dice”.

It was the signified year of Orwell’s book  “1984”  and the atmosphere of fear of planetary obliteration was rampant. War, once again, was imminent and disaster stories flooded the book shelves. Was Armageddon, the biggest prophetic disaster story of them all, finally upon us?

Few people realise that “Armageddon” is not a place – it is the name of the final battle between God and the Devil. The desert plain of Meggido is in Israel, where the conflict is prophesied to happen.




Overlooking the desert Valley of Megiddo – biblical battleground of  Armageddon.










The Ceremonial site at the upper end of the valley.



Dice double page spread This is a magazine article about the film. Here you see me directing the group at the site before we enter a long meditation. The gathering was especially significant because it was the day of remembrance of Hiroshima. After we closed I asked Phylis,” who has the terrible lung problem which so disturbed the silence.” She pointed out that the noise had come from an owl – not usually seen in daylight – which had hovered over the spot for the whole time, then was joined by another and  flew off.

In my next blogs I will introduce some of the amazing people and some of the unexplainable events around the making of this film.