Approach this book with an open mind, but
fasten your seatbelt and prepare to have that mind bent. Strange
Seas chronicles the author's search through past lives, channeling,
trance states, dreams, and personal soul-searching, to learn why
she has a profound and sometimes unsettling connection to the sea,
and especially to whales and dolphins.
Damp grass tickled my ankles as I moved through
an English country night, through air scented with the familiar
November smells of smoking leaves and sheep-dung. This was my fourth
butterfly: golden lovely with peach-tipped wings and emerald feelers.
The underbelly gleamed silver-blue as I watched my paintbrush make
its arc, gliding across the chapels outside wall.
When, at age four, she described being born,
her hands indicating the push of walls against her head, and described
the haired fruit of her mother's insides, the long dark wet journey
down the canal -- then! -- the sudden burst of light, the assault
of sound and cold, her grandmother Nonna Rose and her mother Sofia
stared at her in terror.
"Morte!" they cried, crossing themselves, and yes, thought
Filomena now, being born is
the first step toward death.
I was standing there, innocently cemented in the mud between raspberry
when all of a sudden, I heard a loud buzzing noise coming right
toward me. In a split
second, I thought of the space between the collar of my shirt and
my bare neck. Then,
WHAM! It hit. What it was, I'll never know. But I
went crazy, because I was convinced
the thing was in my shirt!
Money was scarce and my waistline wasn't. I felt adrift, drowning in self-pity, and my
writing had stagnated. Nothing seemed to help and plenty seemed to hurt. To distract
myself, I decided to shop the local bargain store and while browsing the aisles, I was
inexplicably soothed by a notebook adorned with playful dolphins.