Author: Denise

(Friday, July 20, 2018) moon waxing gibbous Scorpio / tarot High Priestess

I awaken with the recall of three dreams that have the same level of detail and appear to last an equal amount of time. I don’t remember the order. It’s possible they are simultaneous. They have identical value, emphasis.

Dream of black water:

I stand on the shore of a lake charged with dangerous, turbulent waves. The water is black and holds shimmering, star-like lights. These tiny twinkles flow and bob with the churning, stormy current. The sky is dark as night. This ominous atmosphere could be from the power of the weather, not from the time of day. I watch dozens of men scrambling on boats, struggling to keep them safely afloat. They are heading to the middle of the lake.

Dream of aunt Mary:

I dream of a small square building that is the same size and style as the old wash-house that existed on my grandmother’s farm. The interior shed walls are raw wood siding. No fancy plaster or drywall, and the floors are wood planks too. The space is packed with trinkets left from my aunt Mary’s lifetime of collecting simple, utilitarian items. Nothing has much value. Nothing would show up on Antiques Roadshow.

My cousins Pat and Tim Murphy (her sons) are in the storage shed with me. I am wondering where the nice old print Mary had promised me is located. My cousins don’t know where it is, or are unwilling to let me have it. It was originally owned by my wealthy great aunt Olivia (my grandmother’s sister).

Dream of the greenhouse cage:

I am in a crowded office with my coworkers. The atmosphere is chaotic. Louis (the Creative Director) pulls me aside. We walk outdoors. He has designed a new workspace just for me, adjacent to the back wall of the office building. He is very excited about it. The introvert in me appreciates this new level of privacy. It is a large area, maybe 20 feet by 20 feet. There is no floor. My desk sits upon the lush, green lawn. The walls and ceiling are constructed of thick black iron piping, as would have been used in a playground swing set from my childhood. It feels like a metal greenhouse but there is no glass sheathing. The piping rests on a foundation of very old, rotting landscape timbers.

Day notes:

Black water: a news story on Friday was about the 17 people killed in a storm on a lake in Branson, Missouri.

I looked at Chris’ MRCP results on My Chart. Many tiny “stars” showed up in his kidneys. The doctor wrote that it was probably a result of longterm lithium use. It could also be small tumors. His abdominal aorta was expanded to 3.9 cm. Normal is 2 cm. Doctors become concerned when the numbers are above 5.5 cm, but since he nearly died from an upper aortic dissection in 2011, I wonder why they are unconcerned. Below 5 cm they call it dilation, above 5 cm they call it aneurysm. 

Aunt Mary: my second recent Mary dream. Today is the Feast of Mary Magdalene. My cousins Pat and Tim never handed over the print Mary promised me. I sent Pat J. an email three days ago asking about the money he owes me from Victoria’s workshop in April. No reply.

Greenhouse: 

I immediately thought of a work cage when I woke up from this dream. Prison.

 

(Saturday, July 14, 2018) waxing crescent moon Leo, one day after new moon partial solar eclipse in Cancer opposing Pluto / tarot two of pentacles

I had my eye surgery on Thursday and today I am completely exhausted. My kiln ran all night and that did not help. I burned my left index finger at 3 a.m. when I removed a 1700 degree kiln plug with my bare hands. Stupid. But the erratic night opened up interesting dreams.

Dream 1:

I am with my coworkers in an office that feels like a warehouse district loft. The floors are old hardwood and so are the rafters. The rooms are unusually formed. Open. They flow into each other and into other levels. Some have low ceilings. Some have high ceilings. There is virtually no furniture. No desks, chairs, tables. Few computers. The lighting is muted. The walls are sandstone brick.

I recognize Bill, Cyndi, Rick and Louis. Also David, our new VP of Marketing. David feels very distant. Bill, one of our web designers, walks up to me with a laptop and shows me a file. It is completely empty, containing no imagery, no text, no coding. We scroll together through multiple files and all are the same: empty, devoid of work. There is nothing for any of us to do. The group commiserates about their loss of employment and responsibility, but I leave on my own, out a door and onto the street.

Dream 2:

I am in my backyard with beings that I am in deep relationship with. I don’t recognize them as any of my waking life friends.

The yard is rectangular, not the piece-of-pie shape it is in real life. This geometry came up in my recent dream of the white Sedona vortex. The rectangle is proportionate to two stacked squares, and it flows vertically to the western horizon.

Everything is lush and green. My soil is wildly sprouted with grasses, shrubs, flowers and healthy trees filled with singing birds. The land rolls a bit; it is not flat. I sense that clear springs flow beneath the property, rising up from many miles below. The water is pure, holy, healing. We are working to bring it to the surface and create a beautiful Garden of Eden with streams, pools and fountains. Heaven on earth. I think this is interesting because an astrological formation during the Thursday/Friday eclipse was a Star of David: a trine in earth signs and a trine in water signs. Merkaba. Heart chakra.

(Sunday, July 8, 2018) moon waning crescent Taurus / tarot Devil, Oppression

I have had a peaceful, restful holiday. My foot is finally feeling better. Lola has been very relaxed and attentive. Two Maids And A Mop cleaned my house. Cullan and Hillary’s wedding is three weeks away.

Last night I decided to listen to the recording I made of the psychic that Bonnie and I saw in Sedona. The main message I heard from Darrell was to accept generous, positive feedback and help from people. Don’t always go it alone. I have been getting beautiful messages from friends recently. I feel I should record some here, so that the support and compliments sink in. Accept!

From Anne, my artist friend in Chicago (we met in 2006 at Santa Fe Clay):

“Your poem is very intriguing. I like that the predator and the ‘victim’ fall together into the uncertain space of the rabbit hole. I think that this dark ambiguity suits your vision very well. The nursery rhyme format is perfect and strong. Your work is compelling. I have always loved it. Will it be for sale? There is a lot to say about your installation.”

“I started writing about your two sides: The gentle, considerate, hyper polite, self effacing woman,
who is at the same time a social, artistic and political rebel and who attends dream conferences. Your dream conferences are extremely intriguing for me. Remember that I come from Descartes land (Provence, France).”

From Bonnie:

“The second dream seems to say how special your sculpture is. Edi is made by a famous sculptor (your animus). And yes, your work is unique — nothing else like it (and not the traditional ‘dream art’ which the second place winner’s style exemplified).”

From me:

I have said for some time that I have never come across another clay artist whose work is similar to mine. That is worth something. Even though surrealism is my favorite form of art, my dreams don’t look like that. They look like the “real” world, not like Salvador Dali. My shamanic, waking visions are surrealistic.

I am still holding the form of my next piece in my heart and my third eye. It will be large. I want it to take a creative leap.