(Thursday, January 28, 2016) moon: waning gibbous Libra / tarot: Magician-Witch
I am scheduled to take a trip with a large group of people, but I am running late. I rush into my bedroom closet, rummage the top shelf, only to discover that my mother has already packed my things for me. I’m relieved and grateful. The prerequisite for this trip is that we must all travel lightly. Carry very little baggage.
Mother and I hurry outdoors to the railyard. Either the dream skips, or I have lost the memory of the journey. Suddenly we arrive at another train station and are walking along the elevated wooden platform. At the end of the platform we find an art gallery built of grey adobe. Small, illuminated display windows are inset deep into the outer gallery walls. It’s a heavenly, blue-sky day so the gallery doors are wide open, inviting us and the other members of our travel club to meander into the space.
The gallery footprint is large and square, with a high white ceiling and white stucco walls. The floorboards are shiny, aged golden oak. Painted white sculpture stands, built in ziggurat form, are set against the walls. Colorful, translucent pieces of handblown glass artwork fill the room. Some of the sculptures are animals, some are abstract shapes like mountains or clouds.
The gallery owner, a tall, friendly gentleman with dark hair, is standing behind one of the sculpture stands. Our eyes meet and I gasp in joy and amazement: at the very top of the display is a huge glass serving platter with my name, Denise Luther, scripted in glass in the center of the dish. I am a simple tourist, just passing through this little town. How did this beautiful coincidence, this transcendent synchronicity, come together so perfectly?
I ask my mother for my camera but we cannot find it in our bags. One of my traveling companions, another dark-haired gent, kindly takes a photograph of the platter for me. By the time I am able to locate my own camera, the serving dish has disappeared.
Day notes:
I awoke with an overwhelming feeling of magic. Of being gifted. Completely happy. Seeing my name in the center of the glass touched the center of my heart.
Still reading Connie Kaplan’s book “The Invisible Garment.” My midheaven is in Service. Is there a connection between service and serving platter? Am I being served (by art)? Am I (and my creativity) in service to others?
I have a turkey platter that was handed down to me by my favorite uncle (via my mother). Charlie Wolf had been a Minneapolis cop. Years ago, when skid row was in the Gateway district, he helped a homeless man who repaid him with the shiny serving dish. Today on my lunchbreak I went to visit the wild turkeys. I have found that if I go to a certain park in Mendota at 11:30 I can watch a flock of a dozen turkeys walk slowly through the woods.
Every element of this dream has lightness. Light baggage. Passing through. The joy of being on vacation. Viewing art. Translucent glass. Evaporation of a physical object. Photography. A warm, loving relationship with my mother. Santa Fe skies and fragrant, pure air to fill my lungs.
Nameplate.
From dreammoods: “To see stained glass in your dream signifies spiritual healing and enlightenment. You are seeking guidance from a higher source.”
I seem to be with my soul group in this dream. Relaxed and supported.
I am journeying to my soul work, my creativity, very late in life (The West), but I am arriving with joy and energy, nonetheless.