Author: Denise

(Wednesday, October 2, 2019) waxing crescent Sagittarius / tarot 9 of sparks

I’m up north, near Lake Superior, in a large conference center full of people moving from white room to white room. There I meet with an older, platinum-haired woman, an art professor who is mentoring me. We walk outside, heading on to the Grand Marais Art Colony.

We enter the Art Colony studio. My teacher stands in front of an old altar-stage, like the one in the original wood-frame church, facing two rows of student chairs. I sit in the back row, against the wall, one seat away from the left aisle. My feet are wearing elfish slippers and my right ankle crosses my left knee. A woman comes to sit next to me, on my left, on the aisle, and nearly bumps my toes. She looks into my eyes in a very pointed way, but says nothing.

The professor begins to present, painting rapidly to illustrate her story, and not just with quick, loose brushstrokes. One swash of her brush creates a complete, three dimensional image. Spectacular.

Eventually we leave the studio and walk to the edge of an astonishing cliff. She gently begins coaxing me to leap over the edge of the chasm. Terrifying. The fall is tens of thousands of feet, maybe more. I can’t even be sure I see the earth below. My guardian gives me a sturdy garden shovel to help with my downward journey. I hold the handle and stand on top of the blade. We descend together.

Day notes:

I mailed Jill’s thank you card to London today. Jill has white hair and is similar in size to the guardian in my dream.

I found out about my old studio-mate Denisea’s “The Art Goddess” blog yesterday and read a very fine entry about her aunt’s spirit presence. I met Denisea on my first trip to the Grand Marais Art Colony. That was one of the most mystical experiences of my life. I need to add that story to my blog.

I spent Saturday with Bonnie at the Park Rapids “Art Leap” festival. This photo that she took we call my “Hanged Man” pose.

A dream of heaven and the angelic realm.

(Thursday, September 12, 2019) full harvest moon Pisces / tarot seven of sparks (wands)

Bonnie and I are at the close of Healing the Ancestors. Bonnie has wavy dark hair and looks like a combination of Joanne, Kiah and her own body. She and I have been Jill’s assistants, like Leah was on Cortes Island. The dream environment doesn’t look like Hollyhock, though: it looks like the building in the first retreat dream I had in June (Love On A Tibetan Peak) and even a little like the Airbnb dream.

My sister Jamie was in attendance with us. She is leaving with all of the other participants. She doesn’t feel that it was a successful practice for her, which surprises me because I don’t think many people would have said that about the real event.

Bonnie and I finish cleaning up the site and finish up paperwork too. I decide to head out into nature, towards the sea. The sky is blue and clear. I follow the rocky shoreline, sometimes needing to lean and touch the big boulders with my hands to help my balance. It’s a tricky walk.

I come to a long, long bridge that connects to the distant, western mainland. I feel no temptation at the moment to enter the bridge, but I know it is something I must do in the future. I sense the overlapping layers of bridge dreams I have had over a lifetime.

I walk a few steps past the bridge and see the most astonishing sight. A huge, graceful seal is flying through the air, weaving and spinning as if it is swimming under the ocean. So beautiful, so inspiring! Yet in a few seconds it is gone.

I decide to carefully head down the stony bank to the water. I have another surprising, joyful experience: a small boy greets me, having just entered the earth plane from the fairy realm. He sparkles! He fully radiates magic. It is Wyn, I am certain. My heart is full to the brim.

Day notes:

I listened to Jill’s talk last night on the Shift Network’s sound healing webinar. She was as wonderful as I expected she would be.

(Sunday, September 8, 2019) waning gibbous moon Capricorn / tarot Dreamer of Spirals (page of pentacles)

Vivid dream that feels like an alternate reality:

I am in a long, moving line of people. There is no end of the queue and no beginning of the queue. We are in single-file order, supportively embracing the humans ahead of us, resting our heads between their shoulders and curving our arms around their bellies. It reminds me a little of the string dance we often do at the dream conference costume ball.

Claudia has my back: we have been discussing nutrition, supplements, herbal remedies and energy healing. We are on the same page. We both have met the naturopath Dr. Michael Murray. The dream seems to be messaging that the supplement I have been taking for many years, formulated by Dr. Murray, is important to me. Time to refill my empty bottle of OsteoMove.

The person ahead of me that I am warmly hugging is someone I also know. It might be Bonnie. It might be Mary.

As a member of the queue I am simultaneously working on my design job. We are all walking and working. My working reality feels like a big, active cloud floating above my right eye. In my cloud I am watching a presentation of new ad designs by a wildly innovative, dark-haired young man. He formats his layouts like the animated television ads from a couple of years ago: actors would lie on their backs, surrounded by funny props, while thousands of still shots were taken. The still shots were fused into an active video, very much like the Peter Gabriel video I love made by the British creators of Wallace and Gromit.

I am inspired by this designer’s beautiful process but also by his clear lack of ego. The purity of creativity matters to him, not any kind of social recognition. His unusual genius for design work is like nothing I have ever seen in my profession.

Two full-page ads are on my project list. I decide to revamp them in a style motivated by the design genius. I delete a gold swoosh pattern and replace it with some ghosted Mayan pictograms. I lay a crystal goblet carved with elaborate Mayan images over the top of the printout of one of the ads and take a photograph with my phone.

Then, Claudia, Bonnie/Mary and I arrive at a retreat center. I put aside the printouts of the ads, placing them on a round wooden table like Chris’ Danish-modern that appeared in my Jacob Wetterling dream. I motion to my boss Louis that the ads are done, and that I am done. I am moving on.

Here’s where the dream becomes truly incredible: Claudia, Bonnie/Mary and I move to a mysterious dark room with a huge, burning red hearth. We have entered the void. A highly-spiritual presence from another reality is here to teach us serious, urgent stuff. The Master has no physical body, and our human forms have dissolved into the void. When I awake from the dream, my heart and third eye are still connected to the powerful dimension of the hearth-room. It’s a reality humans don’t ponder until they have passed on from this world.