Author: Denise

(Tuesday, October 28, 2014) Waxing crescent moon in Capricorn / 8 of wands

I am standing looking out over the square courtyard in front of my house. The courtyard is bordered by a shallow stone wall that doesn’t even reach to my knees. Outside of the wall is simply empty space, and the space is white or clear, not black like “outer space.” Maybe it’s inner space? A stone sidewalk (made of square pavements) divides the yard into equal halves. On my right side is a lumpy, grassy green. I notice a lavender pincushion plant pushing its way up through the turf. I dig it up and contemplate a better place to replant. Maybe at the back of the house? The house in the dream is never visible to me.

I am distracted by the stone grotto at the left side of the square. The stones are porous and full of tunnels, like volcanic rock. My left foot slips down one of the tunnels into the water that runs beneath the grotto. I feel a slippery fish quickly wrap itself around my ankle, then pop up out of the water onto the garden bed. I am startled, a little shocked: the fish is prehistoric, one of the first fish to evolve on planet Earth.

Day notes:

A rocket crashed on the launchpad today, just like my dream called “Rocketship” from October 19.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/10/28/rocket-explosion-antares_n_6064572.html

Last week I dream I am an Aztec priest, garbed in a colorful feathered costume and dancing with my fellow priests.

(Saturday, October 25, 2014) Waxing crescent moon in Scorpio / eight of wands

I dream of a house that Chris, Cullan and I used to live in (not in this lifetime). We were very happy there. I have dreamt of this exact house before. It’s about the size and shape of our Wayzata house, but it is located near a fork in a river. The village landscape looks like Champlin, Minnesota, near where the Crow and Rum Rivers enter the Mississippi. Rolling green hills. There is a much earlier house that I also remember in this dream, and in previous dreams. It is a small square cottage situated outside of the village, in the countryside. Another happy home.

In my dream I am flying over the “Champlin” house. I can get very close and inspect the details of the property and the structure, but I soon become aware of a physical barrier which prevents me from traveling to the house in the physical world.

I wake up. As I lie in bed examining the details of this dream and the older dreams, I fall back into a light sleep. I have a vibrant vision of a woman with great white antlers. Patricia Garfield’s Branching Woman. She is pale-skinned, regal and beautiful. She imparts a secret, a message I don’t bring into waking life. I think it is about flying and the astral body. She smiles, turns away from me and melds into the small sculpture I have been working on that I call Volare (“to fly” in Italian). So I realize when I wake up that the tendril-shaped hair I often include in my clay sculptures represents growing branches, not Medusa snakes as one art teacher I had at Santa Fe Clay declared. And I also understand how vital it is to use dreams in my artwork. Dreams as subject unite the two dimensions.

Day notes:

There are many places in New England and Canada named after the French explorer Champlain, the founder of Quebec and “New France.” The area around Champlin and Dayton, Minnesota, was an early French settlement. Cullan and I used to live a mile north of Dayton.

Eight of wands: inflammation. I have to make an emergency appointment this morning at Minnetonka Animal Hospital. Lola has one of her infections again, but we caught it early. Hopefully she wasn’t in too much pain.

Fork = branch