The Art Planet Chronicles: The Making of the Fifth Ring
It was almost sixteen years ago that I met a beautiful woman, still in her late 30s, exactly when I needed to meet her. It doesn’t even seem right to say that I met her, for that assumes too much control on my part, yet so it was. Let’s just say that we came together as we were meant to, and my life was never to be the same again.
I had just turned 42, and was a downwardly mobile professor of art history who had just finished with a marriage of thirteen years destroyed by what seemed to be my hopeless alcoholism. My inner power was strong, however, and so was my guidance. No sooner had I come to resolute terms with that dreadful addiction in a forlorn cabin located at high Colorado mountain meditation retreat center, then she was there, inseparable it now seems from my newly awakened state of being.
Love came suddenly, as it often does. Yet wanting to make sure of my sobriety, I waited a half-year or so before I knew I should live with this woman, Lloydine Burris Mecklenburg. It was sometime around Hiroshima Day, 1981 (A.H. 36) that we became partners sharing the same bed and breaking bread together.
My career as an art historian had run the gamut of teaching environments, from Ivy League, to California super-schools, from experimental colleges and art schools, to urban higher vocational tech commuter campuses, like the University of Colorado, Denver, where I was now eking out a living. The reason for my checkered career was of my own making. My motive was not to become somebody in the world of art history, that was impossible, anyway. No, my intention in teaching was solely to learn for myself, while imparting to my students some inspiration that might take them beyond the hum-drum of their increasingly technologized lives. From a deep urge within myself, I needed to learn all that could be learned about the art and culture of all of the civilizations of the past and present, of all the people, remote and near, in all of their ways and styles of being. In this way I taught whatever I could and even devised new courses when I needed to.
By the time Lloydine came into my life, I was rounding off my career teaching courses in Islamic Art, Medieval Christian Art, and the Art of Japan, among others, while a part-time career as an art critic kept my pulse on the various goings-on in contemporary art. I had already begun to formulate some conclusions, the most prominent one being that humans are a geological feature of the Earth, whose purpose it is to “art.” Art is a verb, and just as plants flower, humans art.
To demonstrate even further for myself what I meant, inspired by the love of my newly discovered soul-mate, Lloydine, I created large collages which interspersed scenes from the geological history and events of the Earth with random shockingly placed bouquets of humanly created beauty. I called this series of collages, the “Planet Art Series.” These art works were predicated on an art critical piece I had written in 1980, entitled, “Planet Art Report for Desperate Earthlings of the Past.”
Shortly after I moved in with Lloydine, a mutual friend, John Steinbeck, inveterate talker and son of the noted American writer, suggested something delightful to me. “Jose,” he drawled over coffee one afternoon early in September, 1981, “stop all this abstract theorizing. Make it real. Write a novel about an art planet.” Fiction? A novel? Well, that was something to think about. And it didn’t take me long to think about it. Because before I knew it, it was thinking me.
Within a few days, I took up my friend’s challenge. Virtually every morning for some three months I awakened at about four AM and slipped downstairs toward the tiny condominium dining room which I had converted into my “scriptorium.” With no thought at all, sitting at an old mechanical typewriter, I listened for the voices. They were always there. Voices from another place, a future time, a parallel world. I was surprised each day when I read to Lloydine what the voices had spoken.
Without warning, Lloydine and I were transported to this magical world that was creating itself within our lives. Taking walks in the mountains, we could not distinguish between our lives and the lives living us from this now enchanted story unfolding daily. We came to know this story as our blood. It was then, and still is now, our life script. Where did it come from? I sometimes thought it was John Lennon who wanted me to write this, since his tragic death had occurred just before Lloydine and I met, and we were both powerfully so impacted by it.
I had never written anything like this before, so pure and clear. The text was scarcely edited. Its present form is virtually its original form. Lloydine faithfully retyped my original on an old IBM Selectric typewriter. Someplace early on in the writing of it, the voice of Arcturus came to me. I did not know then anything about Arcturus. But it was definite and certain that it all came from Arcturus. Nor did I know what the conclusion to the story was to be when I began writing it.
162 Author’s Afterword
The conclusion came imperceptibly, and it came from a place of deep knowing. “Earth’s Rings,” they had always been present, however unconsciously, as a memory, a deja vu, something I had heard of, or that I knew of all along, yet could not articulate until the writing of The Art Planet Chronicles had taken me to the place of remembering them once again.
By the time I had written seven or eight of the “Tape Logs” I sent them to Jeremy Tarcher in Los Angeles. He was excited by the quality and clarity of the writing, but said he couldn’t publish “fiction,” and suggested to me a number of top science fiction agents in New York. As it turned out nobody could or would publish the book. Over the next year, I received a hundred rejections. Most of them were pro forma. “Does not fit our lists,” “no way to market it,” were the usual responses. An occasional junior editor would write enthusiastically about the style, the synthesis of history and imagination, but would conclude that it was too “out of the ordinary.” Out of the ordinary meant that as science fiction it did not encompass or conclude with a high tech script in keeping with traditional science fiction. All of this only proved my point. The idea that art could be more powerful than mechanistic technology is unthinkable in today’s world, so unthinkable that even if it were given a voice, no one would listen.
The wholesale rejection of “The Art Planet Chronicles” in 1982, coincided precisely with the end of my career as an art historian. No sooner had I been named “teacher of the year” and awarded a paltry sum, then in virtually the same breath, for no stated reason, I was fired, denied tenure, and was being shown the back door out of traditional academia-forever. Slightly desperate, but undaunted, I knew one thing. My art science fiction had more truth to it than the “Brave New World” and “1984” in which we were all now living.
It was the vision of “Earth’s Rings” that compelled me to pursue my course. Thinking to myself that if “they” couldn’t get it through artistic fiction, I would explain it to “them” in scientific non-fiction. I knew in that deep place of knowing that the “Rings” were true, and that being true, there was an actual science which described the exact sequencing for the triggering of the “rings.” With precisely this motive, Earth Ascending came into being as the “sequel” to The Art Planet Chronicles. While Earth Ascending (1984) was lucky enough to get published, it was also too visionary for its time. Nonetheless it set the stage for even deeper delvings into the Mayan time science and preparation for the Harmonic Convergence.
Well, now it is exactly fifteen years since I finished writing this piece of spontaneous art science fiction. The opportunity to place this text in a science fiction forum like a “Worldwide Web Site,” “The Invisible College,” on the Internet (try explaining that to someone back in 1981!), I have felt no compunction whatsoever to “update” or rewrite anything that I wrote back then. The reader as well as myself, may see in The Art Planet Chronicles: The Making of the Fifth Ring, that my path has been singular and undeviating.
Amazingly, The Making of the Fifth Ring seems very timely, especially in consideration of the direction in which my work has continued to take me. With the exception of the use of Gregorian Calendar names, any reader who is at all familiar with my work may be as astonished as I am to realize how much of my present endeavors and concerns are already explicit in this piece of visionary fiction. Of particular interest is the current Rinri Project, planetary telepathic experiment to trigger Earth’s Circumpolar Rings. The fiction that no one would publish fifteen years ago is now the object of a project grounded in the exact precepts of a science of time which has also finally made Earth Ascending realizable and practicable.
Above all, The Art Planet Chronicles describes a world in which telepathy is the norm. In this lies the deepest value of this book: that we could live by art, telepathy and radiosonic engineering as much as we now live by jobs, war, and technology.
Yet, look around and see how much The Art Planet Chronicles also mirrors today’s world. The Syndics and the Mutant Outlaws, they’re already happening out there someplace just past the infrared sensors of the CIA, corporate takeovers, and the hip-hop grunge surrealism of MTV. And wherever the new language of thirteen moons and fourth-dimensional time has found a receptive mind and heart, PAN is sprouting. The lines are being drawn rapidly, and the “lysdexic danguage” of the ever-evolving mumble rumbles the heart its blaze!
Preparing this text once again sheds much light on my own value or purpose as a human being. From my current perspective, I now understand how deeply programmed my whole being has been. Lloydine Burris, White Solar Wind/Bolon Ik was placed in my path to trigger through love what had become buried in the hazards of taking on a human form during the dark ages of industrial chaos. The Art Planet Chronicles which she awoke from me, awoke in me as well the memory of a mission so precise in its purpose and timing, it still amazes me, a mission, for whatever strange and haunting reason, is stamped indelibly with the name, “Arcturus.” The winding sheet that unfurled me into my birth most surely was woven in Arcturus.
To Discipline The Devil’s Country
Author’s Afterword 163
The Art Planet Chronicles: The Making of the Fifth Ring
The Arcturus Probe, like The Art Planet Chronicles, spontaneously written over ten years later, in 1992, demonstrates to me that I am essentially a galactic time-release code incarnate in human form. My mission has been highly focused and directed, yet inexplicably confusing or mysterious to most people and even to myself until recent years. This mission is far greater than myself. I have merely been the “bullet” shot from a galactic gun to communicate a cosmic truth, the primal version of which is so purely and innocently woven in this story of love, The Art Planet Chronicles.
In the vividness of its descriptions, the odors, the textures, the tastes of everyday life, and in the drama of the transformation of humanity from its sleep of material illusion to achievements of brain-unifying and mind-boggling telepathic wonder, I think there is a ray of hope for others. The path of love is a broad and magnificent highway. The courage to stay true to love is rare. I have had no choice but to follow the unfolding of my galactic course, but without the unique love that came to me by name of Lloydine Burris, none of what I have been able to know, communicate or deliver of that galactic course would ever have come to light.
José Argüelles, Blue Spectral Monkey, PAN Agent 24 Rhythmic Moon 1, Blue Magnetic Storm
0 Mol, “Which unifies all of the pieces”
Blue Self-Existing Storm Year, 51 AH
North American Plate
Experimental Sector, Arcturus Dominion Galaxy 108X
164 Author’s Afterword