2/23/2006 12:18:01 P.M. Pacific Standard Time

OK, Kent, here goes.

What I describe herewith is my experience, from my perspective. I 
have no perception of "creating" these weird experiences I 
have....they just pop up now and then, I record them and invariably 
they seem to dove-tail into  your research. I do not know the 
meaning, and if you can lend to my understanding, I would very much 
appreciate the insight.

On Tuesday, I was in Collinsville, Ill, in a hotel room, reading the 
Kolbrin. This was a very rare opportunity for myself to take time to 
read, by myself. I was sitting in the sunlight, as the room had a 
wonderful large window facing south and the sky was unusually clear, 
or relatively, with few contrails. About 1-2 central time, I suddenly 
became sleepy, and as I am a sun-lover, decided to grab a pillow and 
settle in the sunlight on the floor. I did so, and in doing so, 
glanced at the sun. When I shut my eyes, I then saw the "eye", which 
was of turquoise "sparklies", which I'd never seen before (my 
physical eyes are brown) , then was overwhemed with WAVES of glorious 
color, brilliant color washes from one hue to another going from the 
prevalent violet to blue to a garnet(?) back and forth, then ending 
in a glorious deep gold.

I tried to repeat the experience...of course was unable to. Although 
spontaneously similar "washes" happened again as I was drifting in 
and out of sleeptime, lying there. I was left rather stunned and  in 
an altered state.

When my other finished his duties for the day, I asked if he wanted 
to go to the Mounds, as they were within a mile or so, and we have 
"done ceremony" several times there in the past and he seemed to very 
much enjoy the experiences. It was getting rather late, but he 
thought if we hopped in the car we could make sundown at the top of 
Monk's Mound.

So, we did so, arriving at the parking lot on the east side of the 
Mound, observing a young couple headed off north to examine the 
palisades recreated there. Glancing at the sun we debated if we were 
going to be able to see sunset as contrails were thick, but decided 
to proceed. No one else was visible in the park.
We started walking toward the mound.

(If you look at this old picture of the mound I snitched from your 
site, the parking lot is on the right (east) side, well behind the 
trees, beyond the scope of this picture on the right. You can barely 
see the gravel path going behind the first tree, around front of the 
mound to the beginning of the steps (which are now concrete painted 
brown, with a steel rail up the middle for stability in walking. As 
this is still winter here, bitter cold, the trees are bare.)

As I was coming along the walk, at about the point right before it 
reaches the first tree in the picture, I glanced up at the sun as it 
was very cold and I was debating that huge climb ahead and the 
probability that the sun would actually be out. I was "struck" with a 
vision in my eyesight so strong, I was no longer able to see 
ordinarily. I shut my eyes, to see if I could "see" better, and was 
rewarded with a "star map", very, very clear and unknown to me, as I 
am not an astronomer and barely recognize anything but the large and 
small dippers. The only "landmark" I could come up with was the fact 
that part of it looked like one of the dippers. The "roads" inbetween 
the major stars were clear straight blue/white, the major stars were 
of the color of the 2 large ones in this pic (yeah, I snipped that 
one too, thanks!). I was unable to open my eyes and see normallly, so 
grabbed my 'other's arm for guidance and kept going as time was 
growing short in the day. The word that came to mind was Pleidaies 
and 7 Sisters...again....didn't compute to me. I kept trying to open 
my eyes, as this is a fairly long walk and my ankles are worthless at 
this point in my life, but still could not see...the star map was 
getting dimmer, but the "real sight" showed a bright red where each 
of the stars were, making such disparity to normal sight that I had 
to keep my eyes shut.

I then glanced up at the sun again, stilll hanging onto his arm and 
walking, as it had peeped out of the clouds again, and then saw 
ANOTHER star map overlaid the first....this one went out from Taygeta 
(as per this pic) toward the right, then down below this cluster and 
slightlly left into a HUGE LIGHT that almost overcame the original 
map in brilliance. Again, I was seeing red so that I couldn't see.  
It wasn't until we reached the base of the mound I could see enough 
to walk on my own.

We climbed up, with many breathing stops, and got to the top before 
sunset, but the contrail clouds were so thick by then that we 
couldn't see the sun. I had no more experience, other than getting 
cold from the fierce wind at the top. We met a short, dumpy little 
lady with her white hair in a bun on the way back down.

I was reminded again....that Kent Steadman was researching something 
about the mounds, and that I had entertained the thought earlier than 
I should have emailed and asked if he wanted a souvenir while I was 
there!...but of course I didn't. Instead, I am sending you, unbidden, 
this account of experience from yesterday. And no, I wasn't 
"together" enough to stop and make a physical pic of what 
happened...we were focused on hitting the top of the mound!  
Questions welcome. D.