Introduction
This dream remains branded in my mind. It occurred twelve years ago, just after the launch of my first Web site, which included my travels. My history is intricate, but in short I have travelled a lot, to the ends of the earth. The New Guinea Archipelago, a realm of sorcery and intrigue has been a great magnet. Shortly after launching my site, I had a dream that shook me, keeping me wondering to this day as to its’ meaning.

Dashing
In 1997, at the time my bio was published, I lived in Sydney. I would paint art all day – life was happy for me then. I created full-time, in my charming atelier, in that high-end of town. I can’t recall the exact time of year, day or date I had this extraordinary dream but one night I had a dream that, I feel was related to my initial Web site. Whoever read it was interested in my New Guinea tryst. What was their motive?

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As I lay sleeping, I dreamt I was downstairs, being beckoned by someone, into the underground-garage of our building. In my nighttime imagining I was wearing a cowboy hat – someone calling me.

As I entered the garage there stood a dashing young man. “Come, James, come here,” he called.

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The Low Table
He was standing in front of a low, wood table. The scene was clear as a film in full Technicolor. On the table were various, “jujus,” or sorcerer’s tools arranged with care. “Why they are from Papua New Guinea,” I thought to myself, approaching this vital young man, standing behind his wooden table of charcoal-coloured artifacts.

Next, he touched each in turn, shook some in a ritualistic way, turned some over and then lifted a bowl. “Here, James, drink this.” He offered me a stone bowl with a smile. “Why, he wants me to take this,” I marveled as I took it. Then I drank. Aghast, I realised suddenly that what I gulped was human blood!

With a horrible spray I spat it out onto the cold concrete. I turned fleeing our garage in a blind panic. Icy, mocking gales of laughter rang in my burning ears as I split.

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The South of France
How could I have known this cavalier young magus was French? Well, dreams are highly intuitive. You just, “know.” In confirmation of this, “inner sight,” what happened next was important.

Instantly we were in Marseille, France. I found myself travelling with him in a speeding truck.  I knew it was the South of France, as I have visited there, in real life. We were hurtling along a tree-lined esplanade by the sea. It was definitely the South of France, for it was a bright, beautiful day, peculiar to that gorgeous part of this planet. Next to me Greg and Kathy, two friends appeared as if by magic, joining us on the fast moving French vehicle. Then I suddenly awoke, sitting bolt upright in my bed. 

I didn’t feel this was a nightmare. It was fascinating. I felt this intriguing man may have found my first Web site in the young days of the Internet. He may indeed collect New Guinea sorcery tools. This is unsurprising, as the French were the first to plunder those islands of their sacred and magical carvings, in the 19th Century. In fact, most of New Guineas’ most sacred artifacts reside now in European collections.

I was simply his cavy.

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