The Skully Experience.

In the five or so years since meeting Skully I have been witness to many strange, bizarre and downright incredible events. In this time I have changed my opinion about all matters 'Supernatural' from one of outright scepticism, to a complete belief in. Indeed, 'belief' is not a good choice of word as it implies a sense of faith without physical proof. The term Gnosis would be more accurate, as this word suggests: 'A real knowledge and experience of…'

To date, many Psychics, Mediums and Channellers have 'done their thing' with Skully. The data from these sessions would fill many volumes and make fascinating reading. Tempted as I was to merely reproduce selections of the profound writings produced by these highly sensitive individuals, I have chosen to use the space kindly offered to me by Mr Martin Jeffrey to share a few personal moments. Again, I was torn for choice. So many wonderful and magical moments spring to mind. I can only hope that the few snap-shots I have chosen are able to touch your soul in the way that they have touched mine.

The first impression one inevitably has when meeting Skully is awe. The skull is quite breathtaking and holds ones attention in a hypnotic fascination. It is almost impossible to tear ones eyes from it. Light seems to dance around and within the skull forming whirling patterns that suck the viewer into its mysterious depths, and which set aflame the imagination. The skull has a definite presence, which, although is difficult to define; once felt, is unmistakable. The air around him seems thicker and heavier somehow. One's senses begin to swim and concentration becomes difficult. Long forgotten memories and sensations are evoked, voices are heard, strange concepts and ideas pop into mind. Many of the Sensitives who Channelled Skully reported feeling tremendous surges of energy and enthusiasm after meeting Skully. Almost everyone who did spend time with Skully (Sensitives and non-psychic individuals alike) experienced strange coincidences and synchronicities happening around them. But most of all, everyone had the wildest dreams, and it is with a dream that I begin this account.

As I retired to bed on the day (Sunday) I pulled the skull out of its rough cloth bag, I slept with it next to my bed. What followed I still count as one of the strangest events of my life.

7:30A.M., Monday morning: My alarm goes off. It's time I rose and got ready for work. I climb out of bed feeling very disorientated and walk into my bathroom to run a bath. There is something strange about the running water. It sounds very harsh, dissonant and unnatural. Something is wrong, but I just can't put my finger on what. I struggle very hard to clear my head and suddenly realise that the noise isn't running water at all: It is my alarm clock! I had been dreaming. I haven't really got up at all, yet! So, feeling even groggier, I drag myself out of bed again and head towards the bathroom. This time, I was somewhat relieved to note that the bath seemed to fill quite normally. I turn to the sink to brush my teeth. But, there was something strange about the sound of the running water. It sounded very harsh, dissonant and unnatural. Something was wrong, but I just couldn't figure out what. I struggled very hard to think clearly and suddenly realised that the noise wasn't water gushing out of the tap: It was my alarm clock. I had been dreaming, again. I haven't really got up at all, yet! For the third time that morning I got up. All went well until I got downstairs and put the kettle on. The sound of this boiling turned into my alarm clock going off and I was back in bed. The time after that, it was the noises made when I washed my breakfast pots that turned into the alarm clock going off. The time after that it was the sound of my cat meowing to be fed... At 8:45A.M. I was sat in a deserted office smoking a cigarette. The events of the morning were threatening to send me completely insane. In the 75 minutes I had been awake I had -so far: Switched off the office alarm system twice; drove into work three times; picked up four morning papers; filled the car with petrol five times; fed my cat six times; washed-up seven sets of dirty pots; eaten eight cooked breakfasts; dressed nine times; brushed my teeth ten times, and had enjoyed eleven baths. I had absolutely no idea if I was asleep or awake, nor any means of differentiating between the two states. I was acutely sensitive of every small noise, lest it turn into my alarm clock going off, setting the entire cycle off again. 'Reality' as I knew and understood it, has never quite been the same since.

The above dream, whilst admittedly very strange, is entirely subjective. It is a third-hand account of an event that I may, or may not have experienced. The same is true of any statement made by a Sensitive -allegedly- in communication with non-physical entities. The next couple of experiences I share are entirely objective and therefore, can be validated. I was born with a medical condition, an illness that has remained pretty constant throughout my life.

Whilst this condition is not life threatening and is at worst an inconvenience, it cannot be cured. Between the ages of 16 and 32, the quantity of medication I use has remained the same throughout. However, in the five years since Skully came into my life, my medication has been reduced by 66%. Furthermore, Skully has told me how to reduce this further and it is only weakness on my part that has prevented a further reduction in my symptoms and dosage of medication. My Medical Record on this matter speaks for itself.

During my childhood I was given a few very basic lessons on the piano. With the onset of puberty any aspirations I may have harboured to become the next Beethoven were quickly forgotten about. For 25 years the piano I ended up with -because no one else wanted it- stood gathering dust in my spare bedroom. For whatever reasons, I decided to give it a good clean and polish. Out of curiosity I prodded at the keys to see if I could remember any of the exercises I'd battled with all those years ago: I couldn't. Some time later (I do not recall how long) I looked down at my fingers in astonishment. I was playing a most beautiful and haunting tune. Or, rather, my fingers were. I had no idea what I was playing or how I was playing it. I pulled myself up sharply and in confusion started to rationalise away the experience. The piece must have been something I'd learned years ago. Repetition had programmed the movement into my fingers. Sitting at the piano again after so many years had simply released a long forgotten memory. I tried to convince myself of this but simply did not and could not believe my own conclusions. The music I heard with my own ears was haunting, evocative and far more technically demanding than anything I had ever learned or was capable of reproducing; especially after twenty-five years of neglect. I placed my fingers back on the keyboard and tried to continue with the piece, but I had slipped back into 'reality' and could not even pick out the main melody with one finger.

From this moment on, music of all styles poured out of my fingers. Sometimes I would close my eyes, switch off my conscious thoughts and let the 'feeling' flow through me. Sometimes I would wake with a tune fully formed in my mind. These I could visualise as fantastic scenes. Each note assumed a character according to its timbre, pitch and duration. The interplay of these characters formed the melody. Staccato strings became mosquitoes that dived and buzzed. Drums and percussive noises became throbbing hearts and resounding caverns. Big, fat, oboe fruits plodded across my imaginary stage wearing bow ties made from flute solos.

I cannot even come close to describing the mechanism that brings these tunes into my head. I have long since stopped trying to explain them, to myself or to anyone else. I was fortunate enough to have a friend who owns a small amount of recording equipment. Using his knowledge and patience I was able to translate many of my tunes onto stereo tapes. In the near future it is hoped that a selection of these tunes will be made available on a C.D.. It may even be possible to re-record them using professional equipment.

Just like my Medical Record, the testimony of these tunes (over 400 of them) speaks for itself. These tunes played and arranged to a standard far in excess of anything I could have emulated. They are also quite beautiful and extremely evocative.

More important than any of the above, Skully has shown me what I would term as 'the true nature of the Supernatural.' I have come to understand that all facets of the Supernatural (religion, mysticism, occultism, U.F.O.s, demons, angels, ghosts, alien abduction, etc., etc.) are merely individual leaves, branches, seeds and roots on the same tree. The physical shell we briefly occupy and call 'life' is but one frequency in the far wider spectrum of our existence.

Skully, in common with all other 'sacred' objects, has the ability to open doors within our own subconscious minds. Paradoxically, this key has little -if anything- to do with the physical object, but rather the individual's reaction to it. For instance: I am surrounded by a group of 30 or so individuals. From out of my pocket I retrieve a small plastic, self-seal bag. This contains a sliver of wood. This I remove from the bag and pass around the group, asking if anyone can pick up any 'suggestions' from it. After some minutes I inform the group that the sliver of wood is in fact:
A. Infected with the Anthrax virus.
B. Torn from a broken table in my garage.
C. A piece of the true Cross, on which Jesus was crucified.

In each case, the reaction of the group will vary enormously (obviously) depending on which of the three options I give them. But, the sliver of wood remains unchanged throughout.

The 'Truth' is a great jewel of many facets. Throughout history, certain 'Enlightened' individuals have glimpsed the shadow of a single facet of this great jewel. Much to their credit -and to the benefit of our species- a mere handful of these have successfully cultivated the small seed of their Revelation into a beautiful flower. It is however, unfortunate in the extreme -and to the detriment of humanity- that all creeds, cults and religions founded upon such Revelations, have mistaken a single facet for the whole gem. Further compounding their error by denying the validity and even the existence of any other facet. I will be bold enough to state -with very few exceptions- that: Each and every word you have ever read, or heard in relation to the Supernatural, is quite useless. Furthermore, each of these dead weights that you have picked up and so lovingly carry has, paradoxically, taken you one step further away from the very Truth you seek. The multitude of gurus and literature that guarantees to 'Reveal all of the deepest arcane secrets and mysteries,' represent little more than individual bricks in the wall you have so carefully built between yourself and your birthright.

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