‘In 1981 I would begin to experience visitations by the Harlequin that would haunt me for years to come.  It would often enter my room in the dead of night and communicate to me without words.  I was never awakened by it, I always seemed to be spontaneously engaged in the communication and spontaneously wide-awake. In other words, there was never a beginning to any of these memories, just an “all-of-a-sudden.” During these early visitations, the Harlequin communicated through a series of movements that I was intuitively able to understand naturally with my young mind.  This was sort of the opposite of an interpretive dance.  Its body was very lithe and its movements extraordinarily graceful.  Not even the best dancers on earth could replicate these types of movements.  The Harlequin’s body would stretch and contort in ways that would cause bones to break and muscles to tear.  I struggle to remember its clothing but remember them being motley in appearance.  There were strange hats and clothes that couldn’t be fit into a specific period of history.  The communications, from what I remember, always took the form of intuitive concepts.  In alien abduction lore, this might be similar to telepathic communication. Now the gender of the Harlequin had always vexed me.  In my early childhood experiences, it was unmistakably androgyne.   I viewed it either as a male or female being.  Its face, nevertheless, had an ancient appearance.  Its skin was pale white and sometimes appeared to be blue.  On closer examination, the skin had subtle cracking as if I were looking at an old statue that had suddenly come alive.  Its eyes were large and blue and their movement was always dramatic as if it were trying to be comedic.  The movement of the eyes could best be described as mime-like in that they were expressive to make up for the lack of verbal communication.  When it looked at me, I felt like I had absolute attention on me.  This attention was so prominent that I could feel the Harlequin’s attention as if it were my own.  To clarify that, I was able to see these encounters as if I was slightly outside the body looking in.  The most memorable physical feature were its hands.  The hands looked similar to my mother’s hands.  It had thin fingers and somewhat bulbous knuckles on the finger joints. It perhaps sounds strange, but the hands had the appearance of ancient wisdom.  It was like I was looking at the hands of a sage or individual of great knowledge. The sight of its hands always made me feel comforted as though the Harlequin had a familial relation to me.  I often linked the Harlequin to my mother because she more than anyone else seemed to sense its presence.  The beings mouth was always open in the shape of an “O.”  It never moved which solidified my belief that its face looked like a living statue.  That characteristic always gave the Harlequin a look of shock and bewilderment which seemed to increase the intensity of its presence.  The mouth being open in that manner made it seem as if it was trapped in a state perpetual horror…’