I dream I am laying on my paper filled desk, giving birth. As I labor I find it odd to be laying on my desk instead of in a hospital, or in a bed. My labor progresses and I give birth; not to human babies, but to puppies! I wake up.
Having been taught dream interpretation by my teacher, and how to look for clues and understand my own filters, I realized I was giving birth to something which was not a human baby. I was laying on my desk where business is taken care of, but the puppies were emerging on the little pull out board which is used when the desk is full and something flat and hard is needed to put paper on for writing. Soooo, they were born on the writing part of the desk! I am giving birth to my writing. The writings are my children. The symbol of puppies showed me I am not dreaming about giving birth to my human children (which I have done many times), but to something else. I am creating something different now. Something from me, of me, and by me. I am creating my story to share.
I have had a recurring dream, at least once a year, of being at high school or college, not remembering my class schedule, where my locker is, or the combination. Finally getting to my class only to find it is over, I’ve missed most of the semester, and I have not paid my tuition, or I haven’t graduated yet. I think this is often a recurring dream for many people.
Last night my “recurring” dream was dramatically different. I dreamed I was at high school. I knew my schedule. I knew where my locker was. My books were in order. I was part of the popular group of kids, which was not true in real life high school for me, and I was actually helping incoming freshmen know where to go and what to do at the school on that opening day.
As I lay in bed pondering this huge shift in my school dream, I realized it had something to do with feeling like I belonged with a group of people in a learning environment. Here’s what I believe triggered this change of perspective and also the shift in my dreaming.
On Saturday I went with my daughter to a huge gathering of the guilds (art guilds) at the Oregon Convention Center because she had a ceramic piece on display there through her high school. I decided to wear the yellow and grey outfit I made and the felted necklace I made to go with the outfit. I even put on some makeup, which I seldom do normally. I wanted to fit in and feel confident among all those accomplished artists. As I walked through and around the many booths at the convention center, I was repeatedly stopped by others who commented on my unusual necklace, telling me how gorgeous it was! I was very pleased having others appreciate my work. It was validating to me.
As I was talking with another fiber artist at her booth, she encouraged me to join the Portland Weavers Guild because it is open to all fiber artists. She suggested that I would find my tribe there. I felt so excited about the idea I went home and began researching the guild. I decided I would join.
When I dream about Trackerschool I always feel completely at home and part of that tribe. Now I have another tribe to feel at home in. I think it is interesting that Trackerschool did not change my high school recurring dreams, but meeting these other artists and being invited to join their group did.
Connections and relationships are what life is all about in my opinion!
Last night I dreamed I walked into a silk painting studio and was in awe of all the beautiful paintings fluttering from drying racks. I spoke to a young woman who was painting and found she had recently just graduated from the school. I followed her around and watched what she was doing. Though I thought her work was beautiful, she considered herself a beginner.
An older woman, who had been in the background, started asking me questions about my impressions. I was so touched by the beauty of the paintings that I was weeping and I expressed as much. I watched her work on a new painting and realized she was a master painter. She mentioned the name of a master painter who did much of the work there, as if the master painter were not she, but I knew she was the master painter. Sadly, I cannot remember the name. I listened to her every word and did my best to understand everything she said to me.
She suggested I try painting on one of the large, color faded silks that was hanging among others. I painted a tiny little half-moon of dots that encircled a babies head. Then the baby’s head disappeared, leaving only the dots, which I saw represented the baby. I was afraid to go any farther on the large silk piece.
She approached and suggested that I paint a portrait of myself. I felt she meant to paint the essence of who I am. Many possibilities opened up to me and I was thrilled and scared at the same time. I was afraid of making a mistake yet I wanted to try.
She said, “Don’t be afraid of making mistakes. It takes 1000 paintings to become a master.”
I felt as much reverence and love for her as I do my teacher at Tracker school. It felt as though my heart where bare and she was lovingly encouraging me.
As I work on my new art studio, I am more excited than ever.