It has been four years since I first became acquainted with Skully. During this time I have experienced many strange, mysterious and wonderful things. Indeed, on my very first evening in his company I had the two strangest dreams of my life. Things have continued very much in this vein ever since. After only a few weeks with him, I was starting to form the curious idea that he was trying to communicate with me. On one hand, I had Divina and her Spiritual friends advising me that this was a very natural and usual effect. On the other hand, my own logical and skeptical side was telling me I was going crazy. The thought that a lump of rock was trying to talk to me was just too extreme for me to consider with any degree of seriousness.

After several months of living in what can only be described as the twilight zone, I really did begin to feel as if the skull was battering me into submission. Much as I fought against it, a really crazy thought began to gestate inside me. Throughout my life, circumstances have conspired to surround me with supernatural thoughts and paranormal individuals. But in spite of this, and despite some pretty serious efforts on my part, I have never displayed even the slightest psychic talent. I was, as more than one person has suggested 'As psychic as a brick.' Even if the skull was trying to communicate with me, I simply didn't have the ability to either hear the message or understand what was being said. Worse still, I had become very, very skeptical of all supernatural phenomena and had -literally- switched off and boarded-up any receiving apparatus I may have been in possession of.

All manner of conflicting thoughts were battling in my head. If the skull was trying to say something, why had it chosen such an unsuitable vessel as a mouthpiece? Several of the psychics who Channelled Skully had suggested that my association with the skull was no mere coincidence; that I was fated to receive and transmit the message to whoever may want to listen. But I simply could not accept these suggestions. I knew that I was nobody special or gifted. No one was going to listen to anything I had to say. It was all a big mistake. I concluded that my part was merely to provide the lucky chance that brought the skull back into 'the real world.' At this time, an ownership battle (described elsewhere) was in full swing and I had every reason to believe that the skull would not be in my possession for much longer. Yes, the skull would be returned to its real and intended owner who would understand the language and have all the contacts necessary to effortlessly distribute whatever message tumbled out. I could then make a much needed return to a normal life.

When the last of the decorating (I had recently relocated) was completed I decided to give my new house a good old-fashioned Spring clean. It was a beautiful morning and as I went from room to room I placed the skull on a window-ledge facing the sun, where it glowed and glittered beautifully. The last room to be cleaned was a spare bedroom filled with files and boxes and general junk collected down the years. In the corner of this room was an old piano.

A slight digression: One Christmas, my brother was bought a small toy organ as a present. He immediately showed a great deal of natural aptitued towards music and my parents decided to send him to a private tutor. I sort of tagged along half-heartedly but didn't display any real aptitude. A couple of years after this, the first computers were released (Sinclair, ZX81 and later a Commodore 64.) My brother had found his real vocation in life and today is the manager of software development for a multi-national Company. Music was quickly forgotten about. I sort of inherited the piano because it was big, cumbersome and no one else in the family wanted, or had the slightest use for the thing. It had been unused and gathering dust for the last twenty-five years or so.

The spare bedroom window ledge was covered in clutter so I placed the skull on top of the piano. By now, it was not unusual for me to chat to the skull, albeit in much the same way as I would speak to my cat. This day was slightly different though. I found myself apologizing to the skull. I was sorry for doubting that it was trying to communicate with me. I was sorry for not hearing or understanding. I was sorry for not trying harder. I was sorry for any grief and frustration that my limitations were causing it. I was sorry that it'd had ended up with me rather than its intended owner. I was sorry for everything. And I meant it! As I poured out my heart, I sat on the piano-stool and prodded at the keys. How nice it would look if it were cleaned, polished and tuned, I thought. Out of curiosity, I tried to remember any of the simple exercises I'd tried so hard to learn all those years ago. My efforts were not very inspiring. 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 rationalize 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.

Although I did not realize it at the time, I had been initiated into the two most basic and fundamental of 'occult truths.' These are:

1.. The full confession and open acknowledgment of one's utter ignorance together with a humble and sincere admission of one's prejudices and limitations can, will and does open a natural line of communication of infinitely greater strength and clarity than any that is forced by use of the artificial scaffolding of supposed wisdom.

2.. Communications between entities inhabiting different frequencies (realities) is always achieved via a third party language agreed by the two (or more) beings concerned. A simple example of this would be that of an Englishman and a Russian marooned together on an otherwise deserted island. Eventually, they would learn to communicate with each other in a language that was neither Russian or English. The language that evolves between them will most probably not be of any use to any other individual on the planet. But it is priceless to the two individuals who use it.

The skull was using my musical knowledge (an abstract language I had learned the elements of) and was using this to communicate with me. To assist our mode of communication he [the skull] had given to me the essential essence of music and had whispered to me a third great occult truth. This being:

3.. Every physical operation; be this art, surgery, knitting, financial speculation, construction or music,has an essential essence. The symbolism so cryptically utilized by all occult literature and folklore are -like musical manuscript- general symbols suitable for basic instruction. The notation of the Hebrew kaballah, alchemy and the likes are equally as unintelligible to the novice as are the minims and quavers on a musical stave. A novice may hold the sheet-music to John Lennon's Imagine in his hands, but mere possession of the 'ritual' does not automatically imply a successful evocation of the tune. It is only through long years of regular practice does the aspirant's fingers become accustomed to the particular gestures and positions of his art; does his eyes and brain become familiar with the dots and squiggles on a stave. There is a world of difference between the mechanical repetition of a musical score (which a simple machine can do) and really playing the piece. This is the essential essence that is only understood (and hopefully communicated) by a Master. Anyone with an understanding of the essential essence of one subject has an automatic empathy and appreciation with the essential essence of all other fields.

Form 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 visualize 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 audio-tape.

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. In the meantime a small selection of snippets from these melodies are available for you to hear.

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Note:
1.. The melodies were not recorded using professional equipment and in a very limited time period. As such, the sound quality does vary somewhat.
2.. Due to the limitations of online data transfer it is only possible to offer short snippets (approx 30 seconds) of these melodies. A choice of .wav or .mpeg (MP3) files are available.
.mpeg (MP3) files are the super-compressed music files known as MP3s. These files should open and play automatically in your default media player. Due to the limited quality of these files it is recommended that you use the .wav file option.
.wav files are larger in size than .mpeg (MP3) files, but have a much better sound quality. A small window will open asking if you wish to: A) Open the file from its current location, or B) Save it you your computer. If you wish to hear the song immediately then you should select option 'A.'
3.. Full bandwidth (very good quality) complete recordings of these melodies are available on C.D.. Please click here for further information.

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1.. Aphrodite (closing section.) 1 minute, 9 seconds.
Style: Orchestral.
Suggested imagery: The last few hours of a man; any man; all of mankind as he dies slowly and in agony. Poisoned by the same planet he has been poisoning throughout his lifetime. When We finally reduce our home planet to such a state that it can no longer support life, we will lament our stupidity as we die, choking on pollution of our own making.
270KB. 1.45MB.

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2.. A Different Kind Of Darkness (opening section.) 32 seconds.
Style: Orchestral.
Suggested imagery: The tranquil state of bliss which occurs in the few moments when all hope of survival are gone, but before the onset of death. Also, of the twilight zone that exists between the states of 'awake' and 'asleep.'
123KB. 679KB.

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3.. Reflections (parts I to IV) (opening section of part II.) 1 minute, 19 seconds.
Style: Orchestral.
Suggested imagery: The motion of water, the dancing of sunlight through trees and the gentle sounds of birds and insects. A slow, lazy drift down the river of nostalgia and memories.
303KB. 1.66MB.

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4.. Knowing (closing section.) 56 seconds.
Style: Baroque. String quartet.
Suggested imagery: The dance of life.
215KB. 1.16MB.

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5.. Sealion (middle section.) 42 seconds.
Style: Electronic. Groove.
Suggested imagery: An underwater paradise where marine life swim and cavort amongst the coral and bubbles. Man is the dream of the dolphin.
166KB. 911KB.

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6.. Soldier (1st verse.) 41 seconds.
Style: Ballard.
Suggested imagery: A savage comment on the futility and stupidity of war. The theme tune for every mother who sits waiting for news, or rather, for no news.
160KB. 886KB.

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More tunes will be added shortly.
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