Author: Denise

(Wednesday, September 13, 2023) waning crescent Virgo / tarot Devil

When I wake up from this dream and ponder, I realize it is taking place at the IASD and I am a gallery volunteer. There is a room packed full of artwork in a lower level of the hotel. At the reception area on the floor above the storage room, I see a man standing in front of an empty steel bookcase (like the one I bought a decade ago from CB2 that holds all of Chris’ record albums).

The man has two framed photographs and he is mounting them on the wall directly behind the bookcase. I ask a staffer if we are permitted to attach art to the walls and she says yes. That makes me and other gallery workers incredibly excited. In waking life, we have never been able to add artwork onto hotel walls, only to easels. We go up and down the stairs and grab hundreds of paintings, sculptures and photographs. We start quickly mounting them all around the hotel, not just in one gallery room.

My own submission is in the back of my mind. It is a lovely collage-style, two-dimensional piece that I created inside an old mirror frame from my real-life twenties and thirties. I keep envisioning it in my mind’s eye and finally decide to go get it. I think viewers will find it to be beautiful. But when I locate the frame in the art storage room, the two-dimensional pieces have muted completely. The colors are gone, aged from sunlight. This makes me incredibly sad. Broken-hearted. My art means nothing now. It is dead.

After I let my grief subside a bit, I find new solace. There is a large clay sculpture outdoors, near a set of stone stairs. A younger woman made it, and I like her inspiration. She created a playful, Mexican folk-art style ceramic figure, about four feet tall. In spite of the weight of such a large piece, I am able to embrace and lift the female luminary, carry her carefully up the rocky stairs, past a large outdoor terrace, and deliver her to the art exhibit.

Day notes:

Later in the day the dream bubbles up. I feel the experience of the dream, and notice more details of different scenes. This has been happening quite often lately.

Peter mentioned the IASD conference on Monday night. It will be at Kerkrade, The Netherlands, but I doubt I can afford that trip. I am no longer a member of the IASD as I started pinching my pennies when I lost my job in January. And it would be too difficult to take a large ceramic piece on an airplane anyway.

This seems to be about my transition from my job (creating 2D design work) to working with 3D ceramics. A partial answer to my dream incubation?

Yesterday Oona begged to see Granga so Cullan brought her for a visit on our front porch. She liked my little bunny and dove garden sculptures. I know Wyn has a creative, theatrical side but I don’t know about Oona yet. She loved walking up and down the stairs to the porch.

I am reading James Hillman’s book “The Soul’s Guide.” He says a unique soul guides each of us from birth (daimon, genius, guardian angel, heart, spirit, soul). The fundamental essence of our individuality.

(Monday, August 28, 2023) waxing gibbous moon Aquarius / tarot King of Pentacles

I am aware that I am a young actor. If I am the dream observer, I am observing from the inside of the actor, not the outside. She is me, I am her.

I walk down a wide hallway with another young female actor. The hallway has windows on one side, the left side. We enter a room together, ready to become spies, members of the intelligence community. The other actor starts sorting through her pile of clothing, scattered on the floor in front of her, in preparation for a journey to our training location.

My tall, dark-haired dream guide has been with me, and now he stands at my back, touching my shoulder with gentle care. He is the Head of Intelligence. I’m slightly nervous for the new role in my life and I am not efficient with my messy wardrobe.

I notice a man who is my age, another student, standing in the middle of the room with a fancy device that looks a bit like an Apple laptop. It has a heart-shaped edge on the top. I say, “Ooooh, I love those machines!” I walk over and he shows me some of the different features. He flips it and it becomes an album player. He flips another part and it opens to a printing device. I don’t see a laptop screen, at least that I can recall at the end of the dream.

Day notes:

“The Secret Service”

What is my role as an actor? The dream must be related to my mission dream incubations.

I often dream of this guide who “has my back.” Now I try to connect with him in my waking life.

(Friday, August 25, 2023) first quarter moon Sagittarius / tarot 8 of swords

A long dream. It starts in a large, one-story business building full of people. I sit in a small office right next to the entry/exit glass doors. Cullan has communicated a design task to me, and I work on the desktop computer. I am supposed to combine multiple decorative icons into a banner, but the plastic banner material is missing so I cannot print it out. I try to find Cullan to get his advice for moving forward, but he is “out of office.” A worker I don’t know casually tells me someone else has taken care of the project. I feel unwanted. Sadly, I leave.

The scene shifts to a square, elementary-style classroom. I don’t see the teacher, but I sense he is standing at the front of the rows of desks, near the old chalkboard. I am looking at a rectangular, white audio device laying on the floor. I hear my former coworker Casey talking out of the plastic box, and I kneel next to the speakers. I am very excited. I exclaim: “Casey! It is so good to hear your voice. I miss you!” He must not care about me, because he hangs up, like a negative phone call. Again I feel disrespected and deeply unhappy. Heartbroken.

I move on outdoors and connect with my old friends Bev and Don, who in waking life live near me on Wentworth Avenue. I have known them since before Cullan was born. Bev and I worked at one of my first design jobs, the co-op we called WordWeavers. That is the name I came up with.

We wander and wander together on a country road along beautiful green hills. Don is busier than Bev and I. He moves in and out of different big red barns, doing animal farm-work. I walk inside of a few. Watching his chores means a lot. It teaches me. His is dark-haired and tall. Perhaps he is my frequent dream guide.

Eventually he transitions to his real-life construction job, at which he has excelled for decades. He is designing and building charming, two-story wooden farm-style houses. Some are bright red, some are grass-green. All have white trim. They completely inspire me. Colorful, brand-new. Made with compassionate attention and tremendous skill. They are creating an emotionally connected new neighborhood on the right side of the road.

Day notes:

Of course much of this dream is reflective of the past eight months of my life, “forced retirement.” There is a new beginning. My next clay project is three houses. I have been waiting but can probably start it next week.

The classroom section might be about the required duties I have had to fulfill to qualify for Unemployment Insurance. After one of the classes (“job club”) the instructor admitted there are very few graphic design jobs out there.

Cullan being “out of office” might be because he is a remote worker.

This dream makes me feel I should contact Bev. I haven’t seen her in three years. She retired last year.

Some of this dream seems to answer my incubation question, although I haven’t officially asked it yet.

Glassdoor is the website recommended for reviews of potential employers.

September 13 (prescient?): Today I walked past Bev and Don’s house and it had a for sale sign in the front yard that said “pending.” Interesting that I would dream of them when I haven’t seen Bev in three years. So I texted her today and we plan to go for a walk soon. They have a lake home but also moved to a high-rise apartment one block from my first design job in Saint Anthony West.