equinox dreaming
at this time of the fall cross quarter days, the fall equinox, I think of this place of in-between, a liminal space between what has been and what is to come. i’ve been transcribing my dreams that i have recorded in these past few weeks… some images that stand out…and feelings that arise as I re-read these dreams…
frustration, a feeling of being crowded, also feeling of relief as in “dad finally unpacking his boxes of books which include a box with a sweet yellow handmade shirt still with hem thread and needle attached”
iowa city with charles and rio, we are walking and find ourselves standing at the center of “a crossroads”, in what appears to be a mandala, the four directions; directly across is the iowa river with the downtown beyond, to the right, towards my parents house, to the south, the university hospital, to the west, the sprawling red brick buildings of the University of Iowa Art Department where i spent many hours….the ground is so wet we are unable to walk there without appropriate shoes or boots. charles is showing me beautiful images in a book of a far away place, there is an element of risk which i can’t put my finger on, there is another language being spoken and i sense a whole new world being opened to me.
my friend joanna drawing the future on large pieces of paper, she tells the story as she draws the story, words flow from her mouth at the same time the picture evolves through her fingers with bold black lines.
on a retreat, charles is there, maybe the YLSI, i seem to feel a lot of frustration and a need to manage things and take care of people as well as take care of charles and the horse he is leading by a rope, there is chaotic construction and earth moving equipment all about with water running in rivulets, in spite of the stinky poop found in the trunk of a car i hang a sunflower garland from a tree
another retreat, different circumstances, certain amount of chaos again and disgruntled people. leaders, teachers and guides, a man seems to sabotage a water system which results in an explosion of water lines in a small town thereby i assume the retreat is cancelled. artists making work, i am annoyed at being called the quiet one and i don’t know where the small glass jar of bright blue mineral pigment is?