Yesterday I spent the day moving a work table and chairs into my modest new art studio space in downtown Davis; this was a satisfying but tiring activity. Moving in has cheered me immensely because it has been a challenge for me to keep up a steady art practice since completing my graduate studies several months ago. With the help of a kindly delivery man I wheeled my unfinished rectangular table to the front of the building. Next, I caused a commotion amongst the nearby office workers by spray-painting my table top white, thereby causing fumes to form a toxic cloud. Thankfully, after some discussion with my fellow tenants they conceded that I should finish my paint job. This object is now a glorious and sturdy white slab of a table to work on. I am sitting at the table right now as I write…
Last night I dreamed that I was two people in a couple, a late forties or early fifties man and woman who were on a journey.
At first I had the perspective of the round brunette woman: we had a daughter together, a daughter who was very sick. In order to save her life, we had to go on a search to find a cure. The dream begins with me looking at my husband, a small bookish man with very large glasses. We are scaling a glacial cliff together and the wind is whistling through our ears. Glistening blue and white ice crystals are all around us looking mystical and as we round a corner, we can see an airplane parked down in a nearby valley, waiting for us. Getting to the plane is urgent and we hop in just as it is taking off.
Once inside the plane I (the woman) spoke with a woman who seemed to be a healer of some kind. She talked and seemed to be glowing but her words are not in my memory anymore. I (the man) was stuck in the front portion of the aircraft. I tried to get back to where my wife was because I sensed that something important was happening, but I instead found my way blocked and soon became preoccupied with finding a safe seat and looking at the flight deck. I woke up.
