Unlocking Your Mediumship: Demystifying the Connection with the Other Side Have you ever smelled the sudden, unmistakable scent of a departed loved one’s cologne? Or perhaps a song deeply significant to both of you started playing on the radio at the exact moment you were thinking of them? We often brush these moments off as mere coincidence. But according to medium, writer, and researcher Raquel Sáez, these are clear signs of an active spiritual connection. In a profound conversation exploring the nature of consciousness, Sáez dismantles the fears and myths surrounding mediumship, offering a grounded perspective: communicating with the unseen is not a rare superpower. It is a dormant language we can all remember. Here are the key insights on how to awaken your perception and understand the messages from the other side. 1. We Are All Mediums Society, education, and culture often condition us to shut down our subtle perception by the time we are young. Children who speak of "invi...

The history of art is tied to the history of the studio. A wide, bright atelier invites large canvases and slow, careful work. A small room pushes an artist toward quick, intimate forms. In the life of Benjamín Solari Parravicini, the Argentine painter remembered today as a visionary, this change of space mirrors a change of soul. As the rooms around him grew smaller, the reach of his visions grew wider, until they seemed to cover the whole world. Parravicini, born in Buenos Aires in 1898 and dead in 1974, is best known for his psychographies: brief drawings with short captions that he said came to him from outside his own will. Many readers see them as prophecies. Whatever one believes about their origin, the way he made them tells a story of its own. The Patrician Studio Parravicini came from a well-off family of the Buenos Aires elite. His youth unfolded in the world of large houses, high ceilings and tall windows, the world of the Argentine upper class of the early twentieth c...

In the 1930s, the hand of the Argentine painter Benjamín Solari Parravicini began, as he told it, to move on its own. It produced strange drawings with short, cryptic captions, many of them read today as prophecies. With these psychographies came a voice. Parravicini said that the presence guiding his pencil identified itself as Fray José de Aragón, a Franciscan friar of an earlier century. Whether such a friar ever lived is uncertain, and no clear historical record of him has been found. But a more interesting question can be asked: what does the choice of this particular guide reveal about Parravicini, his faith and the spiritual world of Buenos Aires in his time? A Painter From the Elite Parravicini, born in 1898 and dead in 1974, came from a well-known family of the Buenos Aires upper class. He trained as an artist and worked as a painter and sculptor. He was also, by his own account, a devout Catholic. This combination matters. A man rooted in traditional Catholic faith and ...

Much of the writing about Benjamín Solari Parravicini focuses on his prophecies and on whether they came true. Yet the most striking question may be found in the lines he drew. How did a painter trained in the slow craft of oil and canvas come to produce the fast, unbroken drawings that he called psychographies? To answer that, we need to look at the technique as well as the claims. Parravicini was an Argentine artist, born in 1886, who spent much of his career in Buenos Aires. He became known for paintings, decorative work and designs, and later for drawings made under what he described as a state of trance. His later work is often read in esoteric circles as a record of spiritual contact, but for the art historian it is also a remarkable case of automatic drawing. The Discipline of the Studio Before his visionary period, Parravicini worked in a traditional way. His early studio pieces show careful composition, clear spatial relationships and a considered use of color. Each eleme...

In the vast, sprawling theater of human mysticism, there are those who seek the divine through rigorous asceticism, those who attempt to bind the unseen forces through complex ceremonial magic, and those who spend decades deciphering the crumbling manuscripts of antiquity. Yet, there remains a rarer, infinitely more mysterious path—the path of the open vessel. This is the profound esoteric reality of the medium, the individual who willingly hollows out their own ego to serve as a pure, unobstructed channel for the currents of the invisible world. In the modern era, no figure exemplifies this radical surrender more perfectly than the Brazilian medium Francisco Cândido Xavier, known to millions simply as Chico Xavier. His life was not merely a series of paranormal events; it was an extended, grueling exercise in spiritual alchemy, where the heavy lead of collective human grief was transmuted, page by page, into the golden light of eternal hope.