New Answers to Old Questions
April 18, 2009
“I AM JUST FINISHING UP THE BOOK and I wanted you to know how wonderful I think it is. I am convinced that it will be an opening for a lot of people into a new world of their own making.”
“The awareness, honesty and good intentions that made it possible are because both you and Marilyn had the faith and convictions beyond what most people could imagine. Alex, because of your fine mind and memory, the book represents a scope of understanding and awareness that will benefit anyone who is looking for some new answers to old questions, or just trying to figure out their own intuition and creativity.”
“It is beautifully written and engaging as well as scientifically educational.”
“I want to help in any way I can to help people understand the gift you are offering. Thank you both for the heartfelt effort you have made.”
“…I must finish by acting.” (Thoreau)
April 17, 2009
Comments from Ben Behunin, potter, and author of Remembering Isaac, The Wise and Joyful Potter of Niederbipp
“IN THINKING ABOUT IT TODAY AS I SAT AT MY WHEEL MAKING BOWLS, I realized your book is a mnemonic device! I am sure you already are aware of that, but it finally hit me. Your writing is beautiful, descriptive, and yet also abstract…”
“I wanted you to know that your book really makes me think. It causes ideas to blossom, and dreams to occur—it is indeed a threshold into another world. It is that piece of mirror you describe in your treasure box. It is seeping into my subconscious; and arousing, creating thought. I am still only half way through Chapter 5. I am a slow reader anyway, but your book causes me to read even slower, wanting to suck the marrow out of it. Thank you for sharing it.”
“I recently came across a Thoreau quote I like. ‘A truly good book teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down and commence living on its hint. What I began by reading, I must finish by acting.’”
Ben Behunin’s Book may be viewed >HERE
Eating the Energizer Bunny
April 17, 2009
Reader Comment from Jan Jenson
“I TELL MY FRIENDS who have inquiring minds, and like fascinating books, about Talking to Tesla because it REALLY stimulates the mind in unexpected ways. I had NO IDEA what the book was about—other than thumbing through it quickly at a friend’s house. She grabbed it away and said “order your own” and don’t read bits and pieces of mine. This is a VERY unique book, with a life all its own (a vibration, a color, a sound… it seems to stimulate all the senses and starts them humming, errr… perking?).”
“I can’t say what will happen if you read it. Just do. Take a chance on it changing your world in marvelous and stimulating, thought-provoking ways! It zapped my creativity into over-drive. Most people ask me if I ate the Energizer Bunny! That’s a great problem to have, now that I’m over 65!”
First Books Shipped Yesterday!
December 21, 2008
Four Years in the Making…
Talking To Tesla, (volume 1, The Mirror That Is The Door), has been completed, printed, and the first orders shipped. From the entire Talking To Tesla team, a sincere, heartfelt “thank you” to all of the great people who have helped make this a reality.
Self publishing a book is very, very difficult (as we have found out). As we move forward with this project we invite your continued support. If you enjoy volume 1, one of the ways you can help is to recommend the book to others. Send them to our site. Express what the book meant to you personally. Comment on our blog. We appreciate your insights.
If you haven’t purchased your copy yet, we invite you to do so now by clicking here. We anticipate that the first printing of this beautiful cloth-covered, sewn edition will sell out quickly.
Thanks again.
An Artist’s Vision is Like a Child’s
October 23, 2008
Post by Marilyn Bigney
BY NOW, I’M USED TO WAKING UP when Alex has one of those nights. I can usually tell. After all, I married an artist! So, it was nothing that unusual for me when he woke up one morning and asked me if I knew who Nikolai Tesla was. (I had already guessed that something had been happening that night.) “Well,” I replied, “if he’s anybody, he’ll be on the internet!” (Which is obviously something we laugh at now.)
Strangely, the dreams continued. He’d recount the previous night’s experience to me and we’d both wonder what it meant. Soon, I was encouraging him to write it all down. It’s so easy to forget—even important things.
His scribbled notes on little scraps of paper began to pile up, littering the floor on his side of the bed (along with his typical stack of art related books and gardening and cooking magazines). Then the scraps of paper turned into sentences, paragraphs, and chapters typed into a growing document. I got used to Alex’s requests that I listen to a newest journal entry, and as I listened I learned—I learned that writing a book is not easy; I learned that I have experiences and creativity too, covered up and conveniently put aside as I was busy being grown-up; I learned to participate in my children’s and grandchildren’s curiosity, and re-found my own delight in discovering the world; learning that I’m not too old to learn new things myself, things that might have seemed beyond what I thought I could learn.
And finally, I have realized that being an artist is a complete way of viewing the world and oneself. Do I laugh often enough? Do I feel the seasons changing? Do I see all the shades of a sunset? Do I let my foot tap when I hear a good tune? (I already knew that I allow Italian chocolate to overcome my mouth and then my whole self.)
Again recently, someone attending one of Alex’s readings of Talking to Tesla asked, “Is this real? Did this really happen?”—which always puzzles me. I have known Alex for many years. He’s an artist. He dreams like he paints. I think he’s always been like that. So, it didn’t surprise me all that much when he awoke that morning to tell me he had met someone named Nikola Tesla in a dream.
An artist’s vision is like a child’s—big, accepting and wide open. In Talking to Tesla, Alex shares all of that with each reader, who, in turn, has the chance to re-find his or her own childlike point of view.
I know that I’m re-finding mine.