Revelations from the Source Read online

  For Peter Rogers, Robert Dunkel, Liz Clow, and Gerry Clow

  Source completes the Revelations Trilogy, and it is only now in 2021 that I can identify the people who most inspired this journey:

  Peter Rogers is the author of A Painter’s Quest: Art as a Way of Revelation, which inspired me to create Armando Pierleoni, a psychopathic abuser and promising painter. In this trilogy, he accomplished a total alchemical transmutation and became a revelatory painter.

  Robert Dunkel is a brilliant student of Catholicism who decided to not become a priest in his youth, and he eventually studied with me at Lily Dale Spiritual Center. We knew we were in the same soul group, and he began assisting me. The background research for these books was daunting, and without Robert’s gentle prodding to get it exactly right, this trilogy could not have been finished.

  Liz Clow, my daughter, is the illustrator for this trilogy. Readers have been enjoying her beautiful artwork, yet there is more. She played a central role with the emergence of Armando the painter because when he first came forth, Liz said, “No matter what, Mom, make Armando as bad as you can.” Now I see how right she was! I believe that deeply tortured souls on this planet are the ones who can achieve profound alchemical transmutations. There are no limits when we stretch ourselves.

  As for Gerry Clow, my husband and lifelong guide, I could not have made it without your love and artistic and healing support. Writing fiction has always been my deepest desire, and I could not have made it without you.

  This trilogy has been a long and challenging journey, and my developmental editor, Meghan MacLean, made significant creative contributions. Thank you! And thank you, Ehud Sperling and Jon Graham, for believing in me when I sometimes didn’t believe in myself. And, as always, all you Bears in editorial, design, and publicity, you were and are incredible!

  REVELATIONS

  FROM THE

  SOURCE

  “A fascinating story. To shift us more fully into the Aquarian Age, Barbara Hand Clow weaves her multidimensional, astrological, and star-consciousness wisdom into a modern allegory filled with intrigue, interesting characters and concepts, and the irresistible lushness of Italian culture, history, and art. As part of humanity learning to free ourselves from the suffering we created in the Piscean Age, we are given glimpses of the heart-based, higher frequency world we are here once again to birth.”

  JUDITH CORVIN-BLACKBURN, LCSW, DMIN, AUTHOR OF ACTIVATING YOUR 5D FREQUENCY

  “Barbara Hand Clow began adapting her lifetime of research in the fields of astrology, science, religion, and multidimensional reality into fiction a few years ago when she wrote the first volume of her Revelations trilogy. This third and final book, Revelations from the Source, brings all of her work together in a breathtaking way. The characters embody the archetypes of humanity interfacing with the world’s current events through a sensual, multisensory, and multidimensional lens on a backdrop of Tuscany and Rome. This final story is profound in its implications while taking the reader on a page-turning ride the entire time.”

  REGINA MEREDITH, HOST OF OPEN MINDS ON GAIA

  “In each of her excellent books Barbara skillfully blends archaeology, authentic spiritual awareness, rich astrological insights, and remarkable prophetic vision. And as a writer of fiction she spices her exciting stories with wit, steamy romance, and a penetrating critique of contemporary global politics. With a big heart she packs a powerful punch with a vitally important message for our times.”

  MARTIN GRAY, AUTHOR OF SACRED EARTH

  “As an artist, I identified with Armando immediately when I first encountered him in Revelations of the Ruby Crystal, and I have enjoyed his stunning personal and artistic growth in Revelations from the Source. There is no art without contemplation. It involves creating space to examine and get in touch with our true center. The artist must survey his or her surroundings, both personal and creative, and then perhaps be strong enough to reframe his or her intended goal in the original concept, even to reconsider the ephemeral illusion of time and space. This book is a must-read for those exploring the inner journey of the artist.”

  ALLEN BLAGDEN, AUTHOR OF MARKING THE MOMENT

  “Barbara Hand Clow has surpassed herself with her new novel, Revelations from the Source. With stunning originality, she transmits her visionary brilliance into characters who are simultaneously larger than life and endearingly human. Barbara Hand Clow offers a hope-filled view of global transformation as we move into the Age of Aquarius. Thank you!”

  TANNIS HUGILL, REGISTERED DRAMA THERAPIST, BOARD CERTIFIED DANCE-MOVEMENT THERAPIST, SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR, AND CREATOR OF SACRED PERFORMANCE

  “At the end of each Great Age, as the old world falls into extreme degradation, Vishnu, divinity of preservation, incarnates to overcome corruption and restore balance. All of Barbara Hand Clow’s books resonate with Vishnu’s purpose, and Revelations from the Source is her crowning achievement. It courageously fulfills Vishnu’s twofold task: to clearly reveal corruption and lead an evolutionary way forward toward full multidimensional human potential. Thank you, Barbara; the Force is with you!”

  FREDERICK HAMILTON BAKER, AUTHOR OF ALCHEMICAL TANTRIC ASTROLOGYAND COAUTHOR OF CONSCIOUS CONCEPTION

  “Barbara Hand Clow has masterfully woven research and expansive insights into Revelations from the Source with engaging results. Key to the unfolding of this novel is the alchemizing effect of transmuting fear to love, which I found truly inspiring and uplifting. This book comes at the perfect time to assist many in making the shift to a higher vibration, to love.”

  ERINA CAREY COWAN, COAUTHOR OF DOWSING BEYOND DUALITY

  Contents

  Cover Image

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  PART ONE. Armando’s Muse Chapter 1. Palazzo Vecchio

  Chapter 2. Where Is the Muse?

  Chapter 3. The Tomb of Jesus

  Chapter 4. Verona School for the Deaf

  Chapter 5. King Brienne’s Coin

  Chapter 6. The Last Temptation

  Chapter 7. The Muse Is Gone

  Chapter 8. Orvieto Tufa Caves

  Chapter 9. Opus Dei

  Chapter 10. The Edge

  Chapter 11. The Garden Path

  Chapter 12. Is It Cancer?

  PART TWO. Indictments Chapter 13. Smut and Vice

  Chapter 14. The US Justice Department

  Chapter 15. The Fourth Dimension

  Chapter 16. Follow the Money

  Chapter 17. Celsus and the End of Nature

  Chapter 18. Pope Innocent X

  Chapter 19. Out of the Closet

  Chapter 20. Notre Dame Cathedral

  Chapter 21. Mausoleo di Augusto

  Chapter 22. Schism Aquarius

  Chapter 23. Full Moon Eclipse

  Chapter 24. Father Faccini’s Letter

  PART THREE. The Source Chapter 25. Environmental Collapse

  Chapter 26. Christmas Eclipses

  Chapter 27. The Assassination

  Chapter 28. A Gathering of Men

  Chapter 29. Armando’s Raising

  Chapter 30. Quarantined

  Chapter 31. Musical Chairs

  Chapter 32. Earth Cantata

  Chapter 33. The New View over Atlantis

  Chapter 34. From the Reptile to the Sage

  Chapter 35. Relics Speak

  Chapter 36. Grand Finale at Sintra

  Afterword. The Encounter

  About the Author

  About Inner Traditions • Bear & Company

  Books of Related Interest

  Copyright & Permissions

  We are now perched on a strange cusp of history . . . a time when the world feels like
it’s been turned upside down, and nothing is quite as we imagined. But uncertainty is always a precursor to sweeping change; transformation is always preceded by upheaval and fear. I urge you to place your faith in the human capacity for creativity and love, because these two forces, when combined, possess the power to illuminate any darkness.

  EDMOND KIRSCH, LEAD CHARACTER IN ORIGIN BY DAN BROWN (2018)

  1

  Palazzo Vecchio

  Alessandro de Medici stood in the dimly lit arched entry at the end of the courtyard of the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence. His face was thoughtful like an impervious marble statue of one of his Renaissance ancestors. He shivered in the damp mid-January air as he awaited the last guests, the illustrious Roman analyst, Lorenzo Giannini, and his mysterious lady, Claudia Tagliatti. They were gathering to celebrate the moving of Armando Pierleoni’s painting to a new room in the Uffizi.

  Ah, here they are! A small, agile, fashionably dressed man with a twinkle in his eyes arrived with the prowling jaguar woman with discerning dark eyes.

  “Ah, Dr. Giannini, I presume? And you must be Claudia Tagliatti? Many years ago I knew your father. I am Alessandro. Welcome!” greeted Alessandro as he ushered them into the Medici’s private quarters in the old palace. The heavy oak door closed perfectly, like everything Medici.

  “It is so kind of you to invite us to Armando’s celebration, a great pleasure,” replied Lorenzo as he examined Alessandro’s black eyes, large square face, and striking long horizontal slices in his cheeks. He wondered, were these old fencing wounds? As he engaged Alessandro’s eyes, Lorenzo saw a flash of him weighing gold on medieval scales. He recognized Alessandro, though he’d never met him before in this lifetime.

  “Come, let’s get a drink before Armando comes out.” They followed him to a gleaming white marble bar. Alessandro delicately placed his hand on Claudia’s bare shoulder as he said, “Claudia, I was fond of your father, Leonardo. Meeting you is a delight. But why didn’t he tell me you are such a beauty? He knew how much I adore classic Roman perfection.”

  Startled by his black eyes, she acknowledged his compliment with amused, thin, catty lips. He held her gaze as he handed her a glass of red wine, and then he led them to the other guests. Seated in chairs set up in front of a long oak table, Pietro and Matilda Pierleoni, Armando’s parents, expressed their pleasure at seeing Lorenzo and Claudia again, and Simon and Sarah Appel turned in their chairs to grasp their hands. Jennifer Pierleoni, Simon’s sister and the artist’s wife, in a tight black jersey pantsuit, appeared dramatically, walked in, and sat down. Alessandro drew their attention to a man in a long tailored Jesuit’s cassock buttoned by effeminate small pearl buttons all the way up to his dog-collared Adam’s apple. “This is Father Giorgio Faccini, my special guest, the Vatican archivist. He has taken a fancy to Armando’s painting of Jesus and Mary Magdalene.”

  The willowy and handsome Jesuit smiled warmly, exuding great charm. “Well, well, Lorenzo Giannini, my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard so much about you.” His words, spoken in a genial and melodious voice, somehow betrayed an undercurrent of nervous energy. Father Faccini sat down next to Lorenzo one inch too close.

  This put Lorenzo’s psychic meter on high alert. “Oh you have, have you? I didn’t realize I’m known in the archives.” Lorenzo noticed Alessandro following their conversation closely. The priest seemed to captivate Alessandro, but Lorenzo felt the tumult beneath the facade.

  “Oh!” Father Faccini said as he fluttered his thin, elegant hands. “I’ve been in Rome for years, and everybody has heard of you—Rome’s great magus. Did you hear that we’re building new storage in the archives? It’s such a daunting task, I could be here the rest of my life; wouldn’t mind though.”

  Lorenzo tuned into the priest’s energy field as he nervously prattled on, but he couldn’t penetrate it. He’s too smooth. And since when does Alessandro de Medici trust a Jesuit? Well, maybe he’s useful to them since they’re still searching for lost documents. Claudia brushed his elbow to bring him to attention. Armando Pierleoni, in a black Armani suit, approached the table with a pitcher and glass of water and sat down next to a large print of his painting of Jesus and Mary Magdalene.

  Alessandro went to the table and turned to face the group. “Thank you for coming. Tonight we are in Cosimo de Medici’s private study, a room never seen by the public, to celebrate Armando’s sale of his painting to the Uffizi. We all know that Florence lit up when Jesus and Mary Magdalene came to the Chapel of the Princes two years ago, and the Medici are proud to display this groundbreaking work in a special room in the Uffizi.” Lorenzo detected a hesitant smile on the Jesuit’s relaxed face. What could he possibly think about Armando’s controversial painting?

  “Tonight, Armando, I’m taking the opportunity to introduce you to Father Giorgio Faccini, a Vatican archivist who helps me research my illustrious ancestors. Father Faccini is fascinated by your work and wanted to join in our celebration of it. We’re all interested in hearing your thoughts on the public’s reaction to your work.” The Jesuit smiled at Armando as Alessandro sat down next to Pietro, who was beaming with pride for his son.

  The silence deepened as they all waited for Armando to speak. Lorenzo wondered what Armando, his client of ten years, would say. He rarely spoke about his art and found it hard to put his work into words.

  “Well,” Armando ventured, “I’m a painter, not a man of words. What comes to my mind is how gratified and humbled I am by the joy people feel when they see this painting.”

  That was an understatement: The people who’d seen Jesus and Mary Magdalene in the Chapel of the Princes while Pachelbel’s Canon played in the background were stunned. During almost every viewing, a few broke down and sobbed; others stared vacantly at the painting in a trance.

  “Well, I really don’t know what else to say. . . . Does anyone have questions?”

  There was a pause, and then the strikingly pretty young brunette, Sarah Appel, spoke up. “Armando, I know creating this painting was difficult for you, but what was it like to be a vessel for such celestial magnificence?” Sarah remembered Jennifer telling her about Armando’s sleepless nights during its creation and thought of her own knowledge of his tortured soul.

  “Ah, very good, dear Sarah. I should have started right there. As always, you prompt me well. You’ve always understood the deepest layers in my work, so for you, I will try to answer. But before I begin, we must honor the limitation of words. Images of Jesus and Mary Magdalene kept pulling me away from paintings I’d been sketching for many months. I couldn’t work on my three-tiered visions of heaven and hell and purgatory in the modern world, the paintings my galleries wanted, and I was worked up because I had a major show coming up.

  “Since I couldn’t do my usual work, I set up a canvas that felt like the right size for the images that were flooding my brain. I parked my chair in front of it, stared at the blank surface, and spaced out. Soon, vibrating light rays feathered the canvas, so I followed them back to their source, a space behind my head where the primary image downloaded. As I sketched it out in charcoal, color flowed into the shimmers, and I followed the cues. Hours flew by like seconds, a day in an hour, and like a madman I barely knew where I was or what time of day it was. Like a miracle, it was done, the image that came through me followed shimmering rays that came from screaming sounds.” Armando winced at the memory, wrenched his shoulders forward, and looked helpless, vacant. Jennifer shifted in her chair to catch his eye and smiled warmly. Immediately, he softened.

  Sarah’s husband Simon, an intensely curious and striking man, muttered audibly, “Screaming sounds, huh? How odd.” More definitively, he continued, “It makes me think, Armando, that you were experiencing synesthesia, hearing light. I’d love to know what you mean. Do you think you can explain?” Sarah nodded in encouragement; Simon had verbalized just what she was wondering herself.

  “Ah-h-h. . . ,” Armando groaned. “The sound was audible in the deepest rece
sses of my skull where the light rays were coming from. I tried to listen more acutely, but oceanic sound was exploding in my head like an aneurysm. Father Faccini, I suppose you look at old records of spiritual experiences all the time? Have you run into anything like this?”

  “Well, Armando, I can’t say I have with painters, but mystics say things like that. The desert fathers sought silence in deep caves to hear the voice of God.” Lorenzo was just amazed by the priest’s voice; it actually tinkled like a harpsichord.

  “Well, now, Father!” Alessandro broke in. “Are you saying the sounds Armando hears could be the voice of God? I imagine you find Armando’s painting blasphemous, so surely you aren’t suggesting it was from God?” He crossed his long black-sleeved arms over his torso as he stared at the delicate Jesuit like a triumphant raptor.

  Matilda Pierleoni, always impeccably polite, gasped audibly. Pietro patted her hand as he said, “Now, Alessandro, my dear Medici friend, surely you don’t mean to create confrontation?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, my favorite cousin. But we want to get to the bottom of how this extraordinary work of art came to be! You’ve seen Salvator Mundi by Leonardo da Vinci? I’d give my life to know how da Vinci executed that incredible image of Christ. Yours, Armando, is just as otherworldly. You’ve described receiving the image, and our friendly Jesuit suggests it may be from God! How interesting. . . .” His eyes shifted away from Armando’s misting eyes to Father Faccini’s profile. “So let’s turn the tables on you, man of God: What does Armando’s painting tell you about Jesus and Mary Magdalene?”

  Everybody in the room was uncomfortable except Alessandro and Armando, who were both more interested in knowing where the image came from than in the strictures of polite society. They gazed at the priest and waited. . . .

  Father Faccini cleared his throat. “What Armando describes suggests he might be in touch with angelic forces. But why should we be surprised? He is an artist and the Church’s story of the life of Jesus is ever evolving. As we all know, Dan Brown writes about Jesus being married to Mary Magdalene, but that’s ridiculous since Jesus was a celibate. Did Armando pick up his image in the ethers? If so, that doesn’t make it true; it is a fanciful idea floating around in the collective mind.”