At the risk of sharing too much about myself, it turns out my insides are violet.
Apparently I’m calm, and very open-minded. (I write about ghosts, Bigfoot and sea serpents, so that sounds about right.)
Mike Grant claims to know all that from photographing my aura, which doesn’t involve any actual photography.
Grant, who’s green on the inside — now we all know too much about each other — added 3-D aura photography to his and his wife’s Livermore business three years ago. She’s a medium. Grant, who served in the Marines and is a computer tech specialist for a bank by day, said he started out as a skeptic in all things other-worldly.
He’s taken her classes and started to come around.
“For some people, (aura photography) makes the transition between belief and science, and kind of meets somewhere in the middle,” said Becky Grant.
At their Soul Intentions Center, Becky Grant does readings and holds classes on topics such as child psychic development, Reiki and tarot cards. They also host overseas guest instructors.
“She can get messages I can’t — that’s just a mystery to me,” Mike Grant said. “I think that my desire to join in our business and learn more helped push us to invest in the aura photography.”
He’s only aware of two companies in Maine offering it. Start-up for just the software is pricey, $7,000 and up, but he said it’s paid off.
They take the set-up to places like the Community Awakening Holistic Fair — this Sunday at the Ramada Inn in Lewiston — and charge $40 for a photo, a 15-page printout and a walk through your colors of the rainbow and what they mean. A bodily horoscope of sorts.
To do a session, Grant connects his laptop to a raised hand-rest larger than a mouse pad called a bio-sensor. Place your hand there for three minutes, and that’s it. The sensor, he said, reads electrical current emitting from your body to measure activity in five areas as well as the major chakras, or energy centers.
(Old-school aura photography sent a pulse of energy through you and measured that, he said. That’s not done so much anymore. And, potentially, ouch.)
“As much skin contact as possible, as still as possible. Relax,” coached Grant. “It’s just going through, it’s checking you out. It’s getting a read on you.”
As my hand lay there, seven rainbow lines danced in a bar graph on his laptop screen, one for each of the chakras. A reading of 10 is great, 1 could be worrisome (your energy tank might be low).
“Your aura is always changing,” said Becky Grant, based on how you’re feeling, who you’re with. “Your core color really stays the same.”
Three minutes later and I had my five colors and scores for seven chakras: Mostly 5’s and 6’s with one 10 for the chakra by my head. Violets, my core color, the report read, tend to be creative, independent and a bit insular. I’ll take that.
They also love music. Hmm. Only if listening to Mumford & Sons CDs intermittently counts.
“It’s a good balance; there’s not lows and highs,” Mike Grant said. “If you’ve got a couple 8’s and then a 2, something’s out of whack.
“Sometimes people have a lull and they don’t know why. This gives them a direction,” he said. A question, “Is your chakra low because you’re sick or are you sick because your chakras are low?” might be worth exploring.
They have a lot of repeat customers; some read up on auras and try to improve their numbers between visits. (They claim that’s possible in a power-of-positive-thought sort of way.)
“Some people do it because their partners brought them in and want to know what color they are,” he said. “They want to know if they’re compatible. ‘If I’m a red and she’s green, does that mean we’re compatible?'”
Maybe. He’s not a match-maker.
“I can tell them about the color that they are and what qualities and character traits that are associated with it, but the rest is up to what they like and dislike,” Grant said.
He had one couple come in, “she was an orange. I was explaining to her she’s a risk-taker and adventurous, and she argued she was not,” he said.
Then her husband stepped in to remind her of the time they were on safari and she broke from the group to go pet an elephant.
“You know,” she told Grant, “maybe you’re right.”
Weird, Wicked Weird is a monthly feature on the strange, intriguing and unexplained in Maine. Send pictures, ideas and happy thoughts to kskelton@sunjournal.com.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
