The Mysterious Events that Seemed to Trigger

Sterling Sinclair's Discovery of an Artform

That Reached Beyond Fine Art Creation

The birth of the Auracature has two significant marking points in time - August 17, 2007 and October 15, 2007. However, looking back as far when I was selling my artwork at 15 years old, I was using a similar style. For many years, I searched for my signature art style, now I think my art style had already found me. Nonetheless, Auracatures as we know them today were inspired by to events in my life.

On the night of August 17, 2007 I was tossing and turning in bed. I recall it being a very dark night and although my sleep seemed restless, I fell asleep quickly when I laid my head upon my pillow. Then at about 2:34 am I was awakened by a bright red flood light shooting through the south and west windows of the cottage. I got out of bed to look out the window but it was so bright, all I saw was fire-engine red. I tried to wake up Kim and the kids, but they would not awaken. Feeling a bit like I was in a dream, I sat back on the corner of the bed. Then the light suddenly turned off and the house became black once again. I rushed to the window to look in the direction the light seemed to be coming from and saw nothing but darkness. What had just happened? Thinking that this experience had to be a trick of the mind or some kind of anxiety induced hallucination, I went back to bed and tossed and turned the rest of the night.

Being not yet satisfied with my hallucination theory, in the morning, I got up out of bed and walked into the field. When I got to the spot from where the light source seemed to be coming that night, I found 3 sets of 3 round circles seemingly burned into the field. It looked like something big had touched down and left its landing pad marks there or 9 scorching hot pods had landed. The circles were 6-8 feet in diameter and looked like charred dirt. They were very noticeable in comparison to the grass and weeds around them. Each set of 3 circles were in a triangle like formation; all of them except one. One circle was more like a circle that smeared to the south. This part of the field is flat and partly on a shallow hill. Whatever touched down there touched on the side of the hill and slid down it. You would have sworn a bulldozer had done it in the night. Huge spreading wild junipers were uprooted and pushed into a pile where the circle ended. In one other area, a black granite rock about 3 feet long was charred and crushed on top. I shot photos and eventually posted some on the internet. By posting the pics on my blog, I was contacted by people fascinated by UFOs and crop circles. It took a few years for the vegetation to start growing again. What I found really intriguing was that we would often see snakes curled up on the circles (we seldom see snakes in the field). Something in these circles was attracting snakes.

Within a week of the light coming through the bedroom and me finding the burnt circles in the field, I was suddenly inspired to draw. I thought I was going to blackout again but I didn’t. I grabbed an orange-apricot coloured sheet of printer paper and a pen. I drew and I drew and I drew. The image was maze that formed what I thought looked like a squatting partridge. This was the first time, a drawing came as if it were channeled through me. This was the first of my channeled images later entitled “Auracatures.”

On October 15, 2007 the second drawing came. I was sorting things at the shop when all of a sudden, I automatically started searching for paper and an marker. I sat down at a table at the back of the shop and started to draw. The store was closing and we were packing up so there I was in a dimly lit corner amid boxes of yarn and such uncontrollably drawing. It was really strange. I knew what I was doing but I could not stop it. I was in some sort of trance or sleep walking event that I could remember. Nonetheless, I drew a stork on a rail. Once it was done as far as it would go, I became fully aware and stunned by the experience I just walked around the shop alone trying to shake it off. What had just happened? Did something happen to a loved one of mine? Did someone die? I don’t recall why I thought those things; I just had sense that it was possible. As the hours progressed, a feeling of dread grew stronger and stronger within me.

The next morning, I received a phone call from my sister. She informed me that our baby brother had been in a motor vehicle accident the night before. The image that I drew did not commemorate something that had happened but rather predicted what was about to happen. I went to the hospital and watched over him for the next few days (about a week in total). While I was at the hospital with him, I drew image after image just as I drew the image the day of the accident (some of the images are posted below). Drawing them helped keep me focused when called upon. As he lay in a coma, about to have his leg possibly amputated, I drew in the ICU waiting room. The nurses were the first to notice that what I was drawing was depicting what was happening to him in the ICU. They were surprised at the connection. What surprised me was that I was drawing them before they happened in the ICU. I was either predicting what was about to happen to him or by drawing, I was making things happen to him. Could a picture on a paper really alter reality?

Then came the night that he was slipping away and we worried if he might expire. That night in my guest room supplied by the hospital, I prayed for his safety and for him to survive. After my prayer, I received a vision to draw. I laid my marker upon the page and suddenly my hand started to scribble. After about 2 minutes, I lost my grip on drawing. I was sent to another world (like walking into a dream) in order to find him. There in this land of the dead, souls spiraled around like being caught in a whirlpool worsening sickness. I called out his name but all I could see was blackness and death. The souls dragged me in deeper as I kept calling his name. I could feel them bight and suck chunks out of me. My life was being drained. I desperately fought to stay alive long enough to find him. I reached out my hand and screamed, “Andrew” one more time and felt a weakened grip upon my wrist. I grabbed him up in my arms and wrapped him with all of what energy I had left. With wings like angels now strapped to my back, I busted out of the darkness and awoke in my room with my image completed (the image "We Won" is what my hand scribbled while I was unconscious). I have no recollection of drawing the image. I just recall, starting to scribble and then signing it when done. Had I saved my brother? Had I tipped the scales of death?

I was awake in the guest room but disoriented by what had just transpired. The following days kind of blur together. Please forgive the inaccuracy of the order of events.

In the waiting room, I drew a bird with its eye open. Just after I signed off the picture, a nurse came to say that he had just woken up; he’d just opened his eyes. This was the first real confirmation I got that my images were related to my concern at the time which was him. I kept drawing and occurrence after occurrence happened. I think it was two days before my mother and his wife had me removed from the hospital for interfering with his care, I stood beside the bed as the surgeon came to take off his temporary leg cast. When the cast came off, something miraculous was discovered.

In his accident, he hit a minivan head on with his motorcycle. The collision left him with a head injury and many broken bones. The worse injury was his left leg. When the accident happened, someone from the first responder team or a neighbor told my dad that Andrew had been in an accident just down the road from him. He rushed over worrying that another son had been killed in an MVA. When he arrived at the accident he was told that Andrew’s leg had almost torn off. The ambulance personnel confirmed how bad it was. At emergence they prepared my father that the leg would likely be amputated. When he was transferred to a larger hospital about 1.5 hours away, the initial emergency intake notes, noted that the leg was so badly damaged that they would likely not be able to save it. Surgery, however, would have to wait because he needed to be stabilized first. He was in rough shape.

The surgeon lifted off the temporary cast and unwrapped Andrew’s leg. The surgeon, one other doctor and two nurses were all there scouring the pages of hospital notes. What had gone wrong along the way they must have thought? They looked puzzled. When his leg was revealed, the leg was in one piece with a small healing cut about 3 inches long running vertically by his tibia and minimal skin grafting was needed. He did go in for surgery, but the amputation surgery was cancelled. There was no sign that his leg had ever been injured as badly as my dad saw and heard about. The leg showed no signs of resembling any of the ambulance or 2 emergency ward reports. We booked an appointment to have a meeting with the intake physician who wrote the report in the emergency. All he could say was that it is possible that the reports were written incorrectly, but he didn’t think that he had. He simply did not know what had happened. We bombarded him with questions about how a chain of people could write all the same reports about his leg condition and then all be entirely wrong. The next day after his surgery, the hospital kicked me out and banned me from coming back to see him. My brother had been saved. This caused the hospital to question their practices and I was removed. The life of the rejected healer - I knew how it felt.

A few days later, Andrew had been moved out of the ICU and into a room to recover. His brain injury was so bad that he was hallucinating and wanted out of the hospital. I fought to keep him in the hospital so that he could heal but my mother helped him sign out of the hospital. His care had ended. My addict brother was healing and he was about to get help and no matter how hard I tried to help him, our mother did everything she could to take him out of care and I was again removed from the hospital. I remember when they released him, it was like I was being sucked back into hate. I had fought for his life and his well being and now he would crumble again.

The last image was drawn to complete this set. He may not have gotten the help he needed, but as a big brother, I somehow saved his life. From that moment, drawing Auracatures occupied pretty much most of my life for the next 6 months. During that time, I drew 3-5 images a day in semi-conscious and unconscious states.

These are the images that I drew during this time I drew my brother back to life. Auracatures have proven themselves to me and many clients that they are powerful works of art with the capacity to alter energies and inspire life.