London, is very London this morning.


A fine mist is falling. Certainly not Vancouver rain, but enough to make hair stand on end, or lie as flat as a cat’s ears in an alley fight.I have been here for more than a week now. Most of our energy has been directed towards the film Fest. London's film festival is interesting and thought-provoking, if somewhat depressing. It's over now and my head is full of images of small villages at the edge of the world, and Dustin Hoffman's take on life, at the end of life. Maggie Smith was amazing in Quartet. Unfortunately, it had a little touch of Hollywood near the end.

The psychic part of the journey has not quite begun yet. I'm promising myself a visit to 33 Belgrave Sq. and the psychic Society of Great Britain, but they may have to wait until I return from my course in Hanover. 

I must admit a little nervousness. The prospect of studying with psychic tutors like Paul Jacobs and Mavis Patilla, both "take no prisoners" psychic teachers, is a little intimidating, even for someone with as much experience in the field as I have had. 

But what is life without challenge? 

I continue to prepare….