According to Oliver Stone's movie, The Doors, Jim Morrison once called his lady love - the super-legend singer's main squeeze, that is, Pamela Courson, his muse.
She may well have been and he certainly wrote some great lyrics and poetry that were about or at least inspired by her.
There is a former truck driver I know who had a most remarkable experience while driving down a Kentucky back road one bright sunny day. He was driving his truck and had just passed a cemetery, -when something in the big left-side door mirror reflected enough to catch the attention of his eagle eyes.
This was a sight to make person stop their vehicle, get out, and investigate further. That is exactly what the gentleman did, and what he beheld standing behind his semi in the middle of the road was to change his life forevermore. It was a beautiful girl, ethereal looking, with white shrouds wrapped about her body. The specter then gazed into the man's eye's with a power that he felt looked right into his soul. She then drifted away, without touching the ground, back into the cemetery from whence she'd come.
To make a long story short, suffice to say this "Lady in white" became the gentleman's, for lack of a better term, psychic inspirer. Now, according to some wiki descriptions, the word that may come closest to describing my friend's experience is channeling, or, in other words, communicating mind-to-mind, as Vincent apparently did with this particular magnificent entity. He was to encounter her again on a another trip down that Bluegrass State back road with similar results to the first meeting.
I've never had a creatively-inspiring muse experience, well, one that I could see. Why, there once came an evening with a bottle of the now legal Absinthe to hand ( I practically never imbibe these days, maybe a beer on the 4th, at most) that failed to produce a Green Fairy muse for me (not that I was really expecting one) as they're purported to have done for all those Belle Epoque writers and artists. No visit, but what did happen later on one day is an inspiration came to mind to write this story in the style in which it is written. And although rather brief, I can only wish another such writing notion passes this way again in the future.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this one my Mists and Moonlight friends, it's on the house.
They've called me the greatest psychic medium of all time. Do I deserve this appellation? Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't; that's strictly for the individual to make up their own mind on as far as I'm concerned.
Except for a period of twelve months, when They decided to punish me for reasons I'll speak of later, the powers never failed me for well over twenty-five years.
How to begin. My actual surname I prefer pronounced Hume, not Home. I was born nearby to Edinburgh: the year and month, 1833, March. And yes, I'll now confirm the birth was illegitimate.
My father's title was Lord Home, and my mother was a Highlander with the power of second sight. I came to America with my Aunt Mary at the age of nine to be reunited with my mother and siblings. As far as my father being there with the rest as is speculated, it's not something I'll go into, now or later.
The first sign given that the power was in me occurred at thirteen. I saw my best friend Edwin standing at the foot of the bed. He made three circles in the air with his hand that I intuitively knew told of his death three days previous. And so he had. Many years later the power returned with a vision of my mother. She, too, had crossed over into the spirit realm.
The holy mystery was to rarely let up after this, with bangs, raps, moving objects and much more. It finally reached the point where my Aunt, reluctantly, requested I leave the comfort and safety of her home. Thus, at the early age of seventeen, I found myself thrown alone into the maelstrom of the world.
My charm and cheerful nature now served me well. I made many friends who's kindness was joyfully given and most thankfully received. A Professor Bush at one point even suggested I pursue the pulpit life for the salvation of souls.
As I pondered this proposition over the next few days, my departed mother, through the auspices of the power, strongly advised me that a greater extended mission was ordained for this life.
I then continued my wanderings. Eventually I found myself in the very handsome home of a Mr. Elmers, who had arranged a delegation from Harvard to see the power; included if I remember correctly, was the eminent poet William C. Bryant.
It was very pleasing to meet these esteemed gentlemen, all of whom seemed eager to see the demonstrations. As They began to rap upon the table, then levitate it, they - the Harvard gentlemen that is - vainly pressed down with all their strength upon the table when it angled up on two legs.
The floor then vibrated to the point of producing thunderous booms, all the while my hands and feet were being alternately held by one of those present. Thus, the force of the preternatural power made itself manifest at this academic gathering of men.
Later, through the years, I astounded many by floating up to the high ceilings of my hosts' homes, tipping tables with candle flames that went on burning at the same angle they were when the wood tops were level, pulling by an unseen force the heaviest pianos across lengthy floors and levitating them up to the tops of rooms.
I was tested dozens of times, in the most stringent manner, by numerous committees of scientists and skeptics, and was never once caught in any fraud, for indeed, there was none. Everything achieved being granted by the grace of the power within.
When the gift was at its strongest, I could float or roll out a tall building's window and come back through another one to the befuddlement of the gentlemen attending. Or while having my feet and body held tightly, elongate the body by near half a foot as measured.
It was an early evening, 1863 for your notes. I found myself in the stylish home of a Madam Jauvin d' Attainville, along with a princess, an ambassador - many more in a majestic drawing room. Sitting in an armchair, away from the others, I went into the usual light trance so the power could manifest itself through me.
Calling on a spirit guide, Brian, in particular, the raps and thumps began above and below the table, the furniture moved about the room, and the heavy chandeliers started their swaying. At this time the Princess Metternich shrieked as she felt strong, invisible hands grasp her. This also began in a softer fashion amongst the others. The room of course was brightly lit, nothing was hidden.
Next, the embroidered tablecloth lifted high in the air with Prince Metternich fruitlessly flailing underneath it for anything solid. All the men now ran to and fro, seeking the source of the raps and force beneath the cloth, with all their efforts in vain. I then commanded the vase of flowers on the piano to slide across its polished top and airily float into the Princess's lap.
I then asked for an accordion. The princess was requested to stand in the center of the room with the instrument held above her head. A look of bewilderment came over her lovely face as the accordion played a sweet and melodious tune, that soon had many in the room sobbing; after which all was ended.
The Poets? They called on me, I did not present myself to them; the same circumstance that had occurred in a previous meeting with the two lovers.
During the seance the usual materializations, rappings, body touches and aerial tunes were brought forth through the power. Mrs. Barrett was ecstatic at the conclusion, but I could feel, or rather keenly sense, the extreme jealousy emanating from her husband.
He most adamantly refused to accept what had transpired, and after his wife's passing over to the other side wrote that outrageously unfair Mr. Sludge, the Medium to defame me.
I shall now state the main reason for his hatred. At another séance Mr. and Mrs. Browning had attended with me, a spiritual hand placed a garland of flowers on her magnificent brow. And stating only the truth, I let it be known about the town that the man in his vanity had attempted to place his own head, unsuccessfully, in its path so as to be crowned himself.
I had always been a favorite with the ladies, from the bourgeoisie to the titled, and this was to later cause me the trappings of scandal and the greatest of troubles.
As to my oft debated sexual yearnings, it would be correct to say that when the rare fancy took, a partner of either gender would suffice. But, in all truth, my desires in this matter were more often directed at the ladies.
As my foolish self-pretensions once got the better of me, the power announced I would be punished and bereft of it for a year's time. I learned my lesson well.
Later on I was declared a sorcerer in Rome. ( They did not help matters any by rapping on the desk of the great city's police head.) I was then permanently banished from the Eternal City, much to my regret.
I latter married a Russian Countess, who gave me a handsome son before she caught and succumbed to the consumption that resided in my body. However, all was not lost as They allowed frequent conversations between us.
I went on to retire in 1872 after many more adventures ,ecstasies, disappointments and demonstrations of the miraculous gift. Fourteen years on I departed this life as the consumption finally ended my days on earth. Left behind was my beautiful second wife, a comfortable haven, and my son Grisha, who had inherited the power from me as I from my Highlander mother.*
*The stories presented here are factual, and the amazing powers of the great psychic medium are believed to be true by many writers, historians and researchers. This one is a case some of the arch skeptics are pulling their hair out over; but, to be more charitable about it, many of them do know, indeed admit, that this is a true mystery and will not be solved by any smoke and mirror or rigged accordion explanations. In 1868 Mr. Home was even put on trail in England by a materialist-minded judiciary but was thoroughly & completely exonerated.
Daniel Dunglas Home might very well have been one of the greatest psychic mediums of all time.