Musings.14: Barbara

ontana - a Claude Montana Vogue Paris Original pattern for Vogue Patterns (#2016, circa 1995-98) was the first step toward "Melissa's" dream upholstery jacket. I saw the pattern all those years ago and fell in love with it, but it languished in a box for years.

A few years before I finally used the pattern I saw and fell in love with a denim jacket pictured in a magazine, a jacket that reminded me a bit of an Elizabethan doublet, of all things. The Claude Montana pattern would give me the look I wanted but I could not find denim of just the right weight and appearance that my sewing could handle.

Back in the box, the pattern languished. I found an absolutely gorgeous tailored denim jacket in the Sundance catalog, which became a beloved staple in my wardrobe, so my desire for a pretty denim jacket was more than satisfied. Then came the destruction of the couch.

The sleeper sofa we'd owned since forever had to be replaced, but I had fallen in love with the slipcover. Of course. The fabric resembled a jacquard with cream-colored leaves on a neutral taupe background. It was understated, a bit elegant, and machine washable. My husband chopped up the sofa and, to save the fabric, I painstakingly ripped the slipcover apart at the seams.

One morning months later I saw in my mind the Claude Montana jacket made from that slipcover. I 'saw' my Elizabethan jacket! I love it. It is unique and attractive and it travels very well. It is also warm enough to be a great 'transition' piece in late fall and early spring. The best part is that the jacket gets second looks, but unless I tell people the fabric came from a recycled slipcover they have no idea of that, or that I made it!

While I am quite pleased to see this element of fashion from recycled fabric appearing in "Melissa's" life, I am surprised and perplexed. Why has this become an element of her story? How does my jacket have an impact on the stories I tell? How does my denim jacket have an impact on the stories I tell?

[[Photos: Top - My slipcover jacket, from a pattern designed by Claude Montana

Bottom - detail from "The Circus Animals' Desertion," oil on canvas, 24" x 36", Barbara Butler McCoy]]

"East o' the Sun, West o' the Moon": "Melissa"

pholstery? Seriously? A jacket of upholstery fabric? I'm supposed to rip apart that slipcover and make a jacket? I cannot say I ever imagined anything like that when I decided to nap on the sofa after lunch! Okay I am surprised, sure, but the dream was really cool so I am going to go with it.

When the dream began I must have been under water because I was watching three mermaids dance around a cauldron. They were singing, too, but all I could understand was that the cauldron was called 'The Cauldron of Dreams' and that it sits at the heart of a labyrinth. As they danced the mermaids used their hands to shape the steam rising from the cauldron into loose cords which they spun into thread before weaving it into fabric. (An interesting 'twist' on the Three Fates and Macbeth's witches!) When the fabric was woven they cut it and stitched it into a jacket which they bade me wear.

Before I could ask why the fabric they had woven looked like the slipcover on my sofa they told me that the prince I sought was imprisoned in a castle 'east o' the sun and west o' the moon.' I love that fairy tale and I was certainly intrigued at the idea of finding a 'prince,' whoever he is, so I started walking.

The wind, like a Botticelli zephyr, pushed me along and soon I was inside a castle. I was shocked, but not really, when I saw that the 'prince' was actually my Crow. There was no time to waste on shock, however, because my princely Crow was telling the assembled court that he would only marry the woman who could remove the stain from his shirt. Girl after girl, woman after woman - how had so many come to find the castle? - tried to clean the shirt, but just as in the fairy tale their efforts only worsened the stain.

The room was emptying and I knew I had to try, but what could I do that all those others hadn't? Then it came to me - the secret was the vessel in which the shirt was washed. That's why I'd seen the mermaids around the cauldron. I knew then I had to wash the shirt in that Cauldron of Dreams.

I woke up feeling such joy because as soon as I thought about the Cauldron of Dreams the carousel horse from the warehouse and a magnificent, brilliantly blue bear appeared in the entrance to the room carrying the Cauldron of Dreams between them. The shirt turned such a blinding white that I was not able to see the face of the man, the prince, my Crow became when I tossed the shirt over him.

I suppose I could feel upset and frustrated that I did not see his face, but it just feels wonderful that there appears to be something I can do for my Crow, who has helped me in unbelievable, loving ways. It will be really very interesting to see how wearing a jacket made from a slipcover can help my Crow, but I've learned that anything can happen and probably will. We shall see.

"Lost and Found": "Melissa"

nock, knock, they're here! I sent them," said the voice at the window, a lovely sprite smiling at me as I sat in the office of St. Clair Shores. I'd been researching some mythology when a shadow fell across the desk and I looked up to see her enchanting face peeking in through the foliage of the tree. "I didn't send that woman, though." A battle-axe of a woman marched down the hall past the office declaring loudly and definitively that, "This place is filthy!"

I know it was a dream, and therefore not bound by 'logic,' but these appearances totally baffled me. I leapt up from the desk chair to forestall the woman stomping down the hall. My attention was diverted, however, by the sight of a number of women and children gathered out on the lawn, between the water and the front entrance, looking longingly toward the inn. When I turned back to the window, hoping for information from the sprite, she was gone.

Before I could stop the battle-axe and ask who she was or why she was there she marched back out the door. I was baffled. There was nothing filthy whatsoever about the inn and I wanted to argue that point with her but decided I'd better turn my attention to the women and children on the lawn. They seemed hesitant to speak, but I was patient with them and eventually learned that they had nowhere to call home. 'Home' was a blessing lost to them. So I invited them into the inn - there was plenty of room.

I urged them to make good use of the toiletries and robes and linens in the rooms. When they had wandered slowly away I realized that there were two little ones, a boy and a girl, standing alone in the lobby. Unlike the other children, who were there with their mothers, this boy and girl were alone. They were not even siblings, but friends who'd met during their wanderings. The little boy spoke for both of them and informed me, "My name is Ham and her name is Sam." They stood there, small, hungry, dirty - thoroughly vulnerable.

The only thing I could do was to lead them to one of the rooms and move between entertaining one and bathing the other. Eventually the pair were clean and wrapped in those over-sized, but very warm, terry robes. I led them downstairs to the office and snuggled them in the chair at the desk with some pencils and paper. I told them I would go to the kitchen to find some food and hot chocolate and be back as quickly as I could. While the milk came to a simmer on the stove, and some of the women shyly entered the kitchen, I searched a box of items labeled "Lost and Found" to see if there were anything for Ham and Sam.

When I returned to the office, tray of goodies and a 'found' item in hand, I nearly cried out to see their shining tousled heads nestled close together as they whispered to one another. I felt sweetness, unutterable unbearable sweetness pierce me - a bolt of lightning - when I introduced Ham to the small cuddly stuffed piglet I'd found in that box. "I think he's been waiting in that box just for you, Ham," I whispered. My throat choked and my eyes filled with tears when he offered Sam the chance to hold the piglet while he finished his drawing.

Musings.13: Barbara

elieve me - I do not think for a moment that falling asleep in the midst of writing a story, as happened to Melissa, is necessarily an indication that one's writing is bad or "soporific." It may be the case on occasion, but more often than not I think it is the Creative Force's way to slow down the writer and get them to see some creative elements that they are missing. If it is one thing the Creative Force loves it is a writer who listens to Its stories.

"Why don't you tell your dreams to me, fantasy will set you free ... Close your eyes girl, look inside girl ... " Steppenwolf

So, in this most recent dream of Melissa's it appears that she is awakened to an aspect of her identity through her efforts as a writer, a storyteller. The dream presents her with an image of herself as a peacock which is rather unusual, as Melissa notes, because male peacocks possess the magnificent plumage. (There is one type of peacock whose females have splendid plumage, but the male still possesses the more notable feathers.)

One thing I have learned when dealing with surprising imagery in dreams is that I always check for any connections to mythology. It was a delightful surprise to discover that both the peacock and the swan have associations to the Hindu goddess Saraswati. Saraswati emerged from the mouth of Brahma, bringing books of wisdom and knowledge to aid humanity in forming solutions to bring order out of chaos. Her arrival was heralded by a peacock, and she emerged on the back of a swan.

"Be - as a page that aches for a word that speaks on a theme that is timeless." Neil Diamond, "Jonathan Livingston Seagull"

Following the logic of dreams it appears that the Dreaming Universe is instructing Melissa to see that her role as a writer is that of heralding the arrival of the goddess Saraswati. Curiously, however, the Dreaming Universe presents her with a cast of characters culled from Western fairy tales, the Twelve Dancing Princesses. The fairy tale is not presented in its entirety here so I tend to think that at this stage in Melissa's development as a writer the elements she was shown are simply the vital ones: twelve princesses, the swans, the ball, the tattered soles.

When the princesses are escorted from the ball and arrive at their common destination, the question of identity is again highlighted. At first glance it appears that the identity of the princesses is to remain a mystery, but Hindu mythology teaches that both black horses and white horses symbolize Saraswati and her consort, Brahma. So, again, we are pointed to the goddess as the source of universal wisdom and knowledge for humanity.

I note also that the Celtic goddess Epona is associated with the horse. Perhaps the western fairy tale pointing to Saraswati is suggesting that Epona is also to be acknowledged. Thus we would see the goddess of universal wisdom and knowledge spreading across Europe up from Asia.

"I am a human Be-ing." Deepak Chopra

The Goddess has appeared in Melissa's dreams in many guises, but now, by explicitly referencing a European fairy tale the message appears to be that such tales represent the universal wisdom and knowledge couched in them. Until this dream that wisdom and knowledge was merely suggested by the occasional appearances of the Faerie Queen and Her King.

This association of fairy tales with universal wisdom and knowledge is strong 'medicine' indeed. This is so especially as it is presented to Melissa after the dream in which she refuses to respond to her father's demands to act in the way he chooses for her, and receives affirmation of the wisdom of maintaining her dream.

"You gave me life now show me how to live ..." Audioslave

The appearance of the fairy tale to Melissa demonstrates Bruno Bettelheim's assertion that over the centuries fairy tales "came to convey at the same time overt and covert meanings - came to speak simultaneously to all levels of the human personality, communicating in a manner which reaches the uneducated mind of the child as well as that of the sophisticated adult." (emphasis mine)

The psychological challenges of "becoming able to relinquish childhood dependencies; gaining a feeling of selfhood and of self-worth and a sense of moral obligation" are not confined to a specific age level. These tales offer anyone who approaches them with an open mind the opportunity to fit "unconscious content into conscious fantasies, which then enable him to deal with that content."

"Someone tries to hide himself down inside himself ..." Audioslave

The challenges of Melissa's life, as shown to us in these dreams, strongly suggest that Mr. Barker's expectations of her and her vain attempts to meet them have derailed her. The fairy tale points her toward an identity and a role, should she choose to accept them. It is especially interesting that the fairy tale has been altered, tailored, to her specific needs. Perhaps the most enchanting aspect of this dream, this fairy tale is that it speaks to her about her. It acknowledges aspects of her unconscious life that nothing or noone else has ever noticed, let alone acknowledged.

"The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are." Joseph Campbell

These dreams and the fairy tale offer Melissa "hope to live not just from moment to moment, but in true consciousness of our existence." Romeo could have been speaking for untold legions of people who "have lost the will to live, and have stopped trying," because a meaning to their life has evaded them:
Mercutio: Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
Romeo: Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes/ With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead/So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

How would Romeo respond were he to meet any of the Twelve Dancing Princesses?

[A bibliography for this post includes:

Bettelheim, Bruno. "The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales." New York: Vintage, 1975

Shakespeare, William. "Romeo and Juliet." New York: Bantam, 1988]

[Photo: The tattered heels of the shoes I wore to the Folger Shakespeare Museum, Washington, D.C. - the sidewalks just destroyed them.]

Twelve Dancing Princesses: 'Melissa'

dreamt I fell asleep over the story I was writing at the desk in the office of St. Clair Shores. (It is not a good sign when my own writing puts me to sleep!) Some snatches of music, drifting in from somewhere on the property, and a solitary giggle woke me. While I sat, blinking, I heard the giggle again, then again, and left the desk and my soporific story to investigate.

Out of the inn and across the lawn I stumbled to stand on the rock strewn shore, shivering and wondering what I was seeing. At first I saw only swaying lights - I counted a dozen - but I soon realized that the lights were mounted on small boats. I cannot say if the boats departed from the same place or not, nor can I say whether they had departed from the island I could so clearly see. All I know is that a dozen boats came over the water to settle on St. Clair Shores.

One by one each of the twelve princesses stepped from her boat to stand before me as if for inspection. I noted that while each princess was dressed in her own individual style all of the boats were swan boats. I was rather awed by the princesses and I probably stared too pointedly for too long, but they were kind and patient, thankfully.

When I found my voice I was horrified to hear myself, well, shriek in a horrid and unpleasant manner. I thought of just running away and when I turned to go I heard a swishing noise behind me. The river rocks felt different under my feet and when I looked down I discovered I had the legs and feet of a bird! I confess, I panicked. After some frenzied dancing and jerking, which amused the princesses enough to make them giggle, I figured out I had become a peacock! The swishing sound had been the wind through those magnificent tail feathers.

For whatever reason, once I had discerned my 'fowl' identity I marched off in the direction of the music, calling loudly as I did, the princesses in a line behind me. I watched them dance and dance, and when it was time I led them, each carrying her tattered shoes, back to their swan boats.

I do not know how everything shifted (I never do in these dreams), but I suddenly found myself outside the warehouse. The princesses arrived at the door, each in her own time, each pressing her thumb to that labyrinth symbol to gain entrance. When the door closed behind the last princess I stole up the spiral ladder and hid behind the roses to see what I might of the princesses. What I saw, however, was all those tattered soles lying amid discarded carousel horses.

I wonder what it means, if anything, that the horses were all either black or white? Hmmm ... This is intriguing. It seems almost as if the dream is a message to wake up from what I was trying to write and ... what? ... escort twelve dancing princesses to the ball, as a peacock? Can a woman even become a peacock - the ones with the gorgeous, magnificent tails are the males, aren't they?

Musings.12: Barbara

By now I should be accustomed to this chaos, plan for it even, since John Lennon 'got it' so well: "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." Suffice it to say I am very happy to be here again, at last.

I am also rather happy, if also surprised, to see that one of my dreams has shown up in 'Melissa's' dreaming life. Ironically, given that 'Melissa's' father owns an entertainment conglomerate which includes a circus and carnival division, I see how tigers and elephants would be relevant in her dreaming and waking life, but I am quite puzzled about their relevance in either my dreams or my daily life.

These magnificent animals came to me in a dream in April 2008, months before I even conceived the notion of blogging. I was inspired to use the dream for 'Melissa,' although I was not certain why, and reported it almost verbatim. One of the changes I made was to describe the big cats in her dream as tigers, whereas in my dream they were jaguars.

One of the first things I do with an intriguing dream such as this is to research any out-of-the-ordinary details like jaguars in flimsy bamboo

cages and elephants carrying Hot Pockets to feed said jaguars. By and large I am still waiting to see what message those animals were intent on delivering. I discovered with some pleasure that in Mesoamerica jaguars, often called 'tigres,' were revered as manifestations of the goddess and appreciated for their strength, beauty, grace, and ability to function on land and in the water. They are the only big cats who swim willingly and by choice.

So, in one night's dreaming two of these magnificent cats confined themselves in flimsy cages and waited on my deck, quietly and patiently. So, I will wait, quietly and patiently also, to see what message they may bear.

What am I to make of the elephants ceremoniously bearing Hot Pockets as food for the jaguars? The notion of elephants happily bringing food to the jaguars puzzles me because big cats prey upon elephants. I am puzzled further by the diminutive size of the elephants - why so small? The Hot Pockets must be meant solely to symbolize some form of nutrition for the cats, but what? Why bring them processed people food? (Do not get me started about processed foods!)

There may be a message to me in the appearance of the elephants, but what exactly? To begin with I always associate elephants with the Hindu Lord Ganesh, Destroyer of Obstacles. Given that, it is most interesting that when I ask the jaguars (goddesses) if they are hungry two (young?) Destroyers of Obstacles happily arrive with people food for them. That may inform my understanding of their 'mission' to the jaguars, but is there some other message for me?

What obstacles face the jaguars? I freed them from their cages, so I doubt that those are obstacles. It is interesting that they waited to be freed, rather than just tearing apart the cages.

As a final interesting note I will share something that happened the day after I posted that dream as 'Melissa's.' My husband and I were driving north to visit some Etowah Indian burial mounds. We both exclaimed when a beautiful, elegant silver convertible glided past on our port side, top down open to the sunshine. Then another, similar convertible passed us on our starboard side.

I was stunned to realize that two Jaguars were literally 'purring' down the highway with us! I've seen many, many Porsches, BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus vehicles here in the Atlanta-metro area, but until then no Jaguars of note. Now I see them just about everywhere - and I smile!

[Photos: Top - our cat, Mardi, June 2006; Bottom - the Ringling Bros. - Barnum and Bailey Circus, Atlanta, February 2009.]

Cats: "Melissa"

ats - big, huge cats, and the little black cat from my previous dreams, were in my dream last night. Baby elephants made an appearance as well.

The little black cat was with me in the building at St. Clair Shores and she was pacing between me and the door in the kitchen leading out to a deck. Back and forth she paced tail held high, a little curl in it at the tip, purring quite loudly. So, I let her out onto the deck.

I froze, however, when I realized there were two tigers in two cages made of bamboo, stacked one atop the other, in a corner of the deck. I tried to maintain my presence of mind because I knew I was dreaming, but I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. All I knew was that the little black cat was but a morsel compared to those two caged tigers.

I know there were two tigers, but the one in the top cage seemed to be the alpha cat (if there is such a hierarchy) and it seemed to be very controlled, very focused. Here's the thing - and I am still stunned that I did this - I released those tigers from their cages!

I didn't feel I was being stalked or threatened. I felt there was a tremendous intelligence in that alpha tiger, an intellectual strength that at least matched if not surpassed its physical strength. I felt as if I was being noted and measured, weighed, but this did not feel unkind or menacing.

Then I asked the tigers if they were hungry, and I may have made a gesture towards the lawn because the next thing I knew I was standing on the lawn with those tigers and my cat as two very small elephants - babies? - approached, their trunks up-curled ceremoniously, bringing Hot Pockets, of all things!

Musings.11: Barbara

had no intention of 'working' at all, beyond taking photos when an opportunity might arise.

This was to be a getaway weekend for myself and my husband to celebrate our anniversary (#28) and I even chose to forgo organizing my notes and my calendar as I usually do on road trips lasting more than a couple of hours. This was to be just him and me, so imagine my surprise when the latest dreams of 'Melissa,' the character I am developing on this blog, popped up in MY flesh and blood life.

It still amazes me even now, almost a week after I saw it and photographed it through the windshield!

These latest dreams of hers with their emphasis on a place named 'St. Clair Shores,' puzzled me enough that I did not know what to say about them. Truthfully, I am still curious to see how this newest location will fit into 'Melissa's' story, especially now that I found a place named 'St. Clair' on an island off the shore, so to speak, of Georgia - St. Simon's Island, to be exact. (The island played host to the 2008 G-8 Summit.)

Earlier in the day I had found a fool in his cap painted on the window of a toy shop on Mallery St. and felt it would fit into a post about 'Melissa's' exploration of the place. I figured I was pretty lucky to happen across an image of a fool out in the big wide world. I was completely taken by surprise when we drove past a development bearing the name 'St. Clair!'

It presages some sort of 'development' in 'Melissa's' story I am sure, but I am especially intrigued to see what develops because of this in MY waking life. 'Melissa's' dreams manifesting in my physical life - maybe Oscar Wilde was right about life imitating art? I'm certainly going to keep watching to see what develops!

Paradise: "Melissa"

aradise - paradise - it's been on my mind since last night's dream. I decided to check out this "St. Clair Shores," see what it's about because it is in such a different neighborhood than the warehouse, or the mountainside tea party with goddesses - although I do remember a bit of a dream in which I stood out of the rain under a magnolia tree for want of an umbrella. Anyway ...

The building was virtually empty but for one room, an office at the back next to the kitchen. The place had a 1950's air about it and the owners, I think, could probably renovate it quite easily and find a sizable clientele if they wanted.

I headed toward the office, but stopped short as I passed the fridge. A pamphlet caught my eye because it looked to be of the same vintage as the building - but I was in it, looking just as I do now! The pamphlet was an advert for some sort of cruise in "The Big Yellow Taxi," and there I was sitting on a seat in the stern of this big yellow boat, being soundly kissed by the man whose bloody footsteps I'd followed to the warehouse from the watchtower. (I could never forget those shoulders or that dark, dark hair!)

Now that I think about it, I also saw the Faerie Queen and her King in that picture. They looked like the photographer caught them just before a kiss. Uncle Joe was there in that amazing DREAM hat, kissing his Bride. The little girl from so many other dreams was there, too. I decided to keep the pamphlet to study later and continued on into the office.

I remember there being walls of built-in shelves and walls of mullioned windows. I remember seeing a fool's cap on one of the shelves. The desk was big and old and gorgeous; an antique already in the 1950's, its finish had been lovingly maintained and looked like ebony satin. Just as I noted a book lying open atop the desk, the antique dial phone rang and, I admit it, I screeched and jumped!

I figured that since this was not my place I should not answer the phone, but then again the pamphlet made me think that I was supposed to be there and thus supposed to answer. I reached for the receiver - and stopped. The phone was connected to an answering machine, so I decided to exercise caution and screen the call. So glad I did because it was my father!

"This is Charles Barker, Melissa. Your father. It seems you've forgotten that. You need some serious discipline, girl. You can defy me all you want, but you can never deny me. You are a Barker. Act like one. You will do as I say or I will cut you off." The click when he hung up was deafening.

Somehow, thankfully, I remembered I could interact with the dream so I told myself, "Just breathe. Breathe. The answer will come to you." Slowly I looked around the room, then back down at the book on the desk. I could see that there was text on both pages, but I could only read one highlighted section on page 259 - '...the message was: "Don't grow, and whatever you do, don't abandon people to pursue your dream."'

"Wow," I thought, "enough said." I looked at the front of the book for the author and title: Julia Cameron, "The Vein of Gold - A Journey to Your Creative Heart."

Before I could form another thought my Crow flew in and perched on my shoulder to give me his characteristic greeting and comb his beak through my hair. He held something shiny in one of his claws and relinquished it with a gurgle of pleasure when I held up my hand - an iPod. This being a dream there was, of course, an iHome on a shelf near the desk. I can take a hint.

After that message from good ole dad I never expected to laugh and dance and feel out-loud happy quite so soon, but when the Counting Crows song began and my Crow moved to the beat as if he thought he had become a bird-of-paradise bent on courting his lady, I could do nothing but join him.

So, I am quite curious just how the Dreaming Universe will show me how to combine the pursuit of my dream with "The Big Yellow Taxi," all those wonderful people on the taxi, AND the Stranger kissing me. Oh, and yes, my Crow.

St. Clair Shores: "Melissa"

asmine scents the breeze caressing me as I write in the quiet before dawn. After quite a long spell the dreams returned last night and I am very happy; things often sort themselves out better than I can imagine when I remember and listen to the dreams, to the dreaming.

This dream was another set at night. The moon shone in a sky of deep crystalline blue, its reflection glittering on the body of water at my feet and the moist sand along the shore. I looked to my right and to my left for some sort of marker to help me identify my surroundings. In the distance off to my right I saw a building - a cabin? a lodge? - with a sign, so I walked toward that.

The sign simply read 'St. Clair Shores.' Some sort of device had been painted in the middle, but the paint had worn off so the image was unrecognizable. While I stood there wondering what 'St. Clair Shores' could mean I noticed clumps of trash strewn on the sand and afloat on the water. I looked around for a stick or a pole, something to scoop the junk out of the water and up off of the beach, intending to place the trash in some waste bins I could see along the side of the building.

All I could find was my black Waterman fountain pen! While I stood with the pen in my hand, reflecting on the irony of finding a Waterman fountain pen on a beach I heard the call of my beloved Crow and looked up to see him land on the 'St. Clair Shores' sign.

He danced a bit atop the sign, bobbing and prancing, bowing his head to me. He soon began to sing, as he had so long ago in that first dream, "Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble." So I set to work moving along the shore, clearing debris, following my Crow as he hopped and flew away down the shoreline.

Soon I saw where he'd been leading me all along and I laughed to see the little girl from previous dreams. She stood in the shallows, watching an island through a spyglass. At our approach she turned and spoke excitedly, "There are things like bubbles beside the island, but I don't think they're bubbles. I think they're eyes!"

I could imagine a number of creatures whose eyes might be seen just above the water, none of which I felt ready to meet. As I looked out across the water, however, I could see the figures of the Faery Queen and her King, who appeared to be helping little people out of the water and into the cup-like buds of magnolias, bobbing on the water.

The royal couple made signs of blessing over each petite sailor before draping sparkling medallions around the neck of each and letting the tiny floral boats slip into the current. Soon a miniature flotilla was sailing toward our shore.

Musings.10: Barbara

This last dream of Melissa's perplexed me for a bit. Something obviously was trying to come to light, but why a dagger? What was I supposed to do with a dagger? What was the dagger meant to symbolize?

Then, as so often happens, that Creative Voice whispered and pointed me towards "The Sword and the Mind: The Classic Japanese Treatise on Swordsmanship and Tactics." I opened it to find a 17th century verse entitled "Dream": One hundred years, thirty-six thousand days. Maitreya, Avalokitesvara, how many yeses and nos? Yes is also a dream. No is also a dream. Maitreya is a dream. Avalokitesvara is also a dream. The Buddha said, "So is all to be seen."

Ah. Dream. Familiar territory. It seemed that two figures, Maitreya and Avalokitesvara, were to be considered teachers for something in this dream of Melissa's. Little is said about Maitreya beyond his identity as the buddha of the future, the last earthly buddha, who is regarded as the embodiment of love.

Avalokitesvara has several names: Lord of Compassionate Sight; Lord Who Looks on from High; Lotus-bearer - the lotus signifying non-attachment, freedom from ignorance, and the path to enlightenment. Avalokitesvara is considered the bodhisattva of universal compassion, the ideal of commitment to and involvement with all living and suffering. To the Chinese he appears as the merciful goddess Guanyin.

He resides in the Western Paradise, yet he remains in the world. He is considered the bodhisattva of the present age and is said to have emanated from Amitabha. From notes I wrote about a stone mural from the sixth century, during a visit to the Sackler Gallery (Wash., D.C.) in early December 2005, I know that "The Buddha of Infinite Light, known as Amitabha in the Indian language Sanskrit, is Lord of the Pure Land called the Western Paradise." Amitabha represents the pre-existent Buddha who already spontaneously exists.

Both Amitabha, the Lord of Infinite Light, and Avalokitesvara, the Lord of Compassionate Sight, forewent Nirvana to help the weak and suffering. With Maitreya (maitre in Sanskrit translates as loving-kindness), this trio of Lords offers the symbolic presence of figures of light, compassion, and love from the past, present, and future. Their presence radiates empathy with all living and suffering. Their presence signals a commitment to and involvement in the enlightenment of humanity.

In simple terms, these figures are committed to seeing that all of humanity comes to dwell in the state of true understanding of both inner and outer reality. Until we have this true understanding we dwell in a world of phenomena. The Diamond Sutra, as quoted in "The Sword and the Mind," teaches: "Every phenomenon is like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow; it is like dew and also like lightning. So is all to be seen."

Alistair Shearer writes in the introduction to his and Peter Russell's translation of selections of "The Upanishads," spiritual texts of India: "...the sages of the Upanishads were concerned with finding Truth, but they realized that as all experience is, and always must be, mediated through the mind, knowledge of the world can only go so far as the knower has knowledge of himself. (emphasis mine) Moreover, they considered our normal waking consciousness too limited and too unstable to comprehend any ultimate reality, for as Truth is that which does not change, it demands an equally unchanging consciousness to appreciate it."

The similarity in thought between these Indian sages and the Powhatans of North America is simply striking! (Scroll down to read Musings.9)

The interest of the sages of the Upanishads "was to transcend the ostensibly rational processes by which we normally try to make sense of the world and reach a state of pure Being, which, lying beyond all thinking and feeling, is the very basis of the mind. They called this state the Self and, as it is unchanging and impartial, considered it the only reliable basis for true understanding of both inner and outer reality. To live in this state of expanded awareness is to be enlightened ... "

This character, Melissa, has chosen to heed these dreams to learn of her Self, a process few Westerners consider 'rational.' Both the 'Dark Lady' and a dagger are presented to her in this ultimate reality. The message inherent in this is that the 'Dark Lady' is to be seen as a bringer of light and compassion, as Guanyin, an emanation of Amitabha. The dagger points to the pen as an instrument of enlightenment.

Tulku Thondup Rinpoche writes (Shambhala Sun, March 2009): "The Buddha said, 'Mind is the main thing and it is the leader.' The body is not our identity. Mind is our identity. It is who we are. So from the Buddha's perspective, working with the mind is the basis of health and healing ...... So if we honestly wish to take care of ourselves and serve this planet in a meaningful way --to heal ourselves and others - it is true loving-kindness that we must generate firmly in our own heart and mind." Loving-kindness must be a meditation one practices, regularly. Devotion to, practice of, loving-kindness brings one into touch with "the energy that opens our heart with joy and trust."

This energy explains the significance of the pen in the dream, I believe. In many ways a pen works with the mind to use language to manifest art. Language, to many people, is words. Joseph Campbell taught that all words are fragments of AUM - AUM which represents to us the energy of the Universe. To hear and feel and write the sounds Melissa hears in her world brings her to that expanded state of awareness and opens her heart with joy and trust.

AUM puts humanity in touch with the Universe. Language with its bits and bytes of AUM, meditated upon, practiced as art, can bring humanity to Truth, for it is written, "In the beginning was the Word."



[A bibliography for this post includes:

Cotterell, Arthur and Storm, Rachel. "The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology". London: Anness Publishing Ltd., 1999, 2008

Russell, Peter and Shearer, Alistair. "The Upanishads". New York: Bell Tower, 2003

Sato, Hiroaki. "The Sword and the Mind: The Classic Japanese Treatise on Swordsmanship and Tactics". New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2004

Thundup, Tulku Rinpoche. "Loving-Kindness is the Best Medicine". Shambhala Sun, vol. 17, no. 4, pps. 51-53, 97]

[[Stone Mural: "Western Paradise", China, Henan Province, Southern Xiangtangshan, Cave 2, Northern Qi dynasty, ca. 570]]

"Is this a dagger ...?": "Melissa"

awn is hours away, but until then I must sit here in this small circle of light and write the dream that shakes me so.

The landscape was the barren parking lot surrounding the warehouse. Moonlight sparkled so brightly and beautifully on the snow. I saw my Crow perched atop one of the posts for the tall chain link fence, just above the manufacturer's metal plaque: "W & H Fencing". I don't know why I would have noticed that, but I did. My Crow seemed distant, as if he knew I was there but was more focused on something else. Indeed, he flew off without giving me much more than a glance and that's when I knew something was wrong.

He flew toward the door of the warehouse, all hidden in shadow, but landed in the moonlit snow near three snowdrifts. He stood motionless for a long moment. When he suddenly hopped up onto the nearest drift I was surprised. With singular concentration he scratched away at the snow in an area along the top of the snowdrift until he was able to grasp something in his beak. He hopped backwards and tugged with his magnificent strength and finally lifted off with some sort of pendant.

"My god, they are bodies!" I screamed inside even as he repeated his actions on the remaining forms. I stepped to run and help him, but I stopped short as I saw a figure with a lantern approach from around the corner of the warehouse.

She was magnificent. Her gown and cloak caught and held the night and the moonlight and seemed to flow around her like mist. Hair black as my Crow's plumage escaped from under her hood in waves. I watched the lantern light dance over her earring, a confection of silver and crystal that reminded me of a medieval stained glass window. She was darkness and power, but nothing, nothing about her was grave. She was, I think, only brave. She walked right up to this scene of death - surely violence had been involved - carrying only light. As I write this I think of some lines from "Romeo and Juliet": 'O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!/It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night/as a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear ...' (Act I, Sc 1, 51-53)

When my Crow finished confiscating the medallions the Lady took candles from a purse at her waist and lit them with the flame in her lantern before setting a pair at the head of each body. The six candles aglow She turned and held her lantern aloft. "Joseph," She called, "You may now escort Your little ones home." Silently, backlit by moonlight, Uncle Joe approached. He was dressed as he had been for his wedding. We greeted one another and the Dark Lady, for so I have come to think of her in these hours, with hands pressed palm to palm and the salutation, "Namaste".

As Uncle Joe approached the bodies I saw misty forms rise from them. They seemed puzzled. Uncle Joe touched each one lightly on a shoulder and it was then I saw that they had coats-of-arms strapped to their arms like the leprechauns in the labyrinth! He gently removed these from each figure and, somehow, hung them on the wall of the warehouse. "Our bruised arms hung up for monuments," He explained to me as He escorted them past. "You will see, my friend, that you and She are the only hope for little ones such as these."

I thought to move the candles nearer to the coats-of-arms, hoping to create a shrine of sorts. When I bent over the forms I saw that each one had worn several heavy medallions around their necks, not just that which the Crow had taken. My Crow and the Dark Lady were silent as I carried each pair of candles to the wall, separately. As I placed the last set there in the snow I saw my Crow reflected in the shield before me, three crosses dangling from his beak.

He lifted off and I turned to watch him fly. The Dark Lady walked into the night the way She had come. Before She turned the corner her cloak brushed an object glinting in the snow. Curious, I went to retrieve it. When I pulled it from the snow, a handgun with a most curious brand name, I could only think to say, "Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?"

Musings.9: Barbara

rabbit appeared in my yard nearly three years ago, a beautiful rabbit and a breathtaking moment when the art I was pursuing showed itself in my everyday life. Before I moved to Georgia I lived in Williamsburg, VA in a neighborhood very close to the National Historic site of Jamestown and the Jamestown Settlement. A number of streets and neighborhoods in the area bore the name of the alliance of Native Americans, Powhatan, prominent in the area when Jamestown was settled. So, although I had moved away, in the months prior to the 400th anniversary of the settlement (2007) I read a copy of Paula Gunn Allen's biography "Pocahontas: Medicine Woman, Spy, Entrepreneur, Diplomat."

"Pocahontas" was basically a childhood nickname for a girl named Matoaka by her people and Lady Rebecca Rolfe by the English. The nickname, as Gunn Allen writes, "relates to a kind of vivacity, mischievousness, and quick intelligence ... at least as understood by the English." The name may also have related to the rabbit, which native peoples "recognized as a trickster," and pointed to qualities of creativity, shrewdness, and a "wild sense of humor."

One evening in the time frame when I was reading "Pocahontas" my husband called me out into the yard to see a rabbit. All that sprang to mind as I followed him out the door was the sort of brown rabbit our Boxer once loved to chase, so I was puzzled as to why my husband was so eager for me to see this rabbit. Oh, it was a beauty! It sat in the corner of the yard, nibbling something and looking so beautiful that I was afraid for it! Its coat was a silky, shiny black and white which made it stand out there among the trees and bracken. We had seen foxes only a few weeks earlier and I was instantly afraid this gorgeous rabbit with the amazingly floppy black ears would become food for the fox. It would not let me approach, of course, to pick it up and try to find its owner so I was reduced to walking up and down the street, knocking on doors. No one answered. Sigh. (I can say, however, that the rabbit remained safe for I saw it several times later foraging in its owner's flower beds.)

That beautiful rabbit stayed in my mind, always associated with Pocahontas and the trickster, so I went out and found the materials to stitch together a facsimile for myself, which you see here. Later for grins and giggles I gave the rabbit, whose name is Mina, a whimsical top hat. The top hat is the model for Uncle Joe's and the leprechauns' hat in Melissa's last two dreams. Now I see that the hat and the rabbit afford me the context to talk about a culture which centered itself around Dream-Vision.

Matoaka/Pocahontas was born into the Mattaponi/Pamunkey tribe which was part of the Powhatan Alliance who "were the People of the Dream-Vision, which is what the Native word Powhatan means." These people embraced "a tradition immersed in Dream-Vision protocols, lore, practices, and understandings that shaped and directed the course of ... life." Their world view was shaped by "the assumption that this wold we live in is by its nature a Dream-Vision ... the manito are the greater dreamers, the humans the lesser, the manito aki the location of the Dream-Vision as it takes shape and gains sufficient 'thrust' to move into our more physically dense reality."

Such a view was NOT alien to the English of the time who commonly referred to "this realm as 'Faerie' or 'the Underworld,' or sometimes Logres." Roughly 350 years after Jamestown was settled physicist David Bohm described "the consciousness form we usually engage in as 'explicate' and the other one as 'implicate.'" Whether the Powhatan term manito aki, the English terms faerie, Underworld, Logres, or physicist Bohm's terms explicate and implicate are used, the concept "implied in each of these terms is that there is a world within and beyond the one most modern people recognize."

"The state of awareness when one is in or communicating with this realm was long identified as Dream-Vision, or powa, in the Algonquin world. It is allied to the Native Australian concept of Dream Time, a way of organizing reality, including via sensory data, that brings phenomena into awareness that are absent from perceptual fields in another brain state."

"Dream-Visions are maps for navigating one's life path. Composed of messages coded in the language of the manito aki, the spirit world, Dream-Visions came accompanied by a guidebook, the Oral Tradition; and by travel guides: one's guardian spirit, or powagan."
"As the pathway to the spirit world, such dreams cross the boundaries of ordinary time and offer answers to the myriad problems that face the nation, clan, or individual." Adherence to such a world view suggests that people like this, whatever their culture or geography or era "were almost always in an 'altered' state of consciousness," with access to "the manito - the powers, beings, forces, reality, if you will, of a world that is not quite this one, but is bigger, beyond, beneath, before, behind, and above this one." I posit that Dream-Vision people understand that dreams offer clues, guidance concerning implicate forms which are journeying toward the explicit world.

In the time since I read "Pocahontas" I have read other works - "Black Elk Speaks," "The Bone Rattle," "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" - and I usually found myself trying to see the arrival of the Eurpoeans upon this soil from the eyes of the natives. So many sources mention the shock of seeing these huge ships and white, white people, but really, how did they see it? One morning I believe I was given an answer.

I dreamt I was with a native woman. We stood in front of what appeared to be a sea wall. One of those mammoth, multi-storied cruise ships was berthed on the other side of the wall. It was so big that no matter how far back I leaned I could not see the top. Between us and the wall there were bushes, about waist high, decorated with tiny white people. As I wrote out the dream I realized that, apparently, the natives initially associated the fair European skin with the white of the cotton bolls that appeared on plants in the area! I've driven past fields of cotton just across the river from Jamestown Settlement, so the association is even more vivid for me.

I like it. I like knowing the implicate order can pull images out of its hat to connect my vision with that of a people living nearly a half-millennia ago in a place I once inhabited.

[[A bibliography for this post includes:
Gunn Allen, Paula."Pocahontas: Medicine Woman, Spy, Entrepreneur, Diplomat". New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004.

Peat, F. David. "Blackfoot Physics: A Journey Into the Native American Universe". Grand Rapids: Phanes Press, 2002.

Bohm, David. "Wholeness and the Implicate Order". London: Routledge Classics, 1980.

All quoted material is from "Pocahontas: Medicine Woman, Spy, Entrepreneur, Diplomat" by Paula Gunn Allen.]]

Leprechauns Take Flight: "Melissa"

ack in my warehouse in my latest dream - Oh, how funny! I wrote 'my' warehouse instead of 'the' warehouse! - I was pleasantly surprised to see again that lovely, charming little girl from previous dreams.

There she was in her vivid blue outfit and little red Keds singing that old Madonna song "Lucky Star" as she worked at a small table. She did not seem to notice me even as I drew closer to discern what she was doing. It appeared that she had cut the front from a cereal box, a Lucky Charms box to be precise, and used cardboard pieces of various lengths to construct a labyrinth in the remainder of the box. She had cut the leprechauns from a pile of discarded Lucky Charms boxes and lined them up at the entrance to the labyrinth. I do not know how it happened, but suddenly all the leprechauns wore hats like the one Uncle Joe wore at his wedding!

While I pondered that I watched her take discarded aluminum baking dishes - pie plates, loaf pans, casserole dishes - and cut them into a number of diamond shaped pieces. When she had a stack of these cutouts she pasted the star shaped Lucky Charms onto each cutout and placed them into the center of the cereal box labyrinth wherein stood an amazing miniature bull! Amid all those cutouts lined up against the walls surrounding it, the bull stood quietly, patiently, as the child walked each leprechaun through the path of the labyrinth.

I sensed she was giving me a demonstration of her understanding, her interpretation of the myth of the labyrinth and minotaur, but my thoughts tripped over themselves when I saw her guide the leprechauns to bow before the bull and address it with the salutation "Namaste". With that address the bull then instructed each leprechaun to "take up arms" and be. I gasped when I realized that the diamond-shaped cutouts were pairs of coats-of-arms! The child affixed the "arms" to the leprechauns and lifted them in flight from the labyrinth!

It ... It seems she is combining two stories about the labyrinth from Greek mythology, changing things and omitting things, to make some point to me, but what?

Musings.8: Barbara

There are some I suppose, perhaps many, who dismiss the appearance of immortals bearing gifts at a wedding ceremony in Melissa's last dream. It does have the ring of a fairy tale about it - remember the nasty fairy who showed up uninvited to the christening of the infant princess Sleeping Beauty and cursed the babe for the slight? - but I propose that this theme has appeared in Melissa's dreams precisely because it must be seriously considered.

I confess that I was surprised to see the theme of immortality take root and unfurl as a major theme in my exploration of Melissa's background. I was guilty of thinking 'background' meant simply her experiences, wishes, goals from her birth to the time I picked up her story.

I set out to learn what makes Melissa who she is and I see some esteemed poets are stepping up to help me piece together this portrait. T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" introduces the theme, "Do I dare to eat a peach?" from the goddess Xi Wang Mu's garden, and tells us right at the top that it is a love song. In case she did not make the connection between the peach of immortality and songs of love as a result of her tea party with the goddesses, the Dreaming Universe sends her off to a heavenly wedding. There is no mistaking the peaches, the immortals, or the love songs for anything other than what they are - perfectly elegant symbols of immortal love.













Many nights before I turn out the light I open a book or two of poetry at random and read what I find. The night after I published that post about 'Uncle Joe's Wedding' Will Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 and Pablo Neruda's sonnet XLIV from "100 Love Sonnets," translated by Stephen Tapscott, opened up for me. "... Love is not love/Which alters when it alteration finds/ ... it is an ever -fixed mark/ ... Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks/Within his bending sickle's compass come./ Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,/ But bears it out ev'n to the edge of doom."

Melissa witnessed a bridal party spanning ages process before Uncle Joe and address him as 'husband' as he awaited his bride. Perhaps she is being asked to see that the life she thought could be measured "with coffee spoons" stretches farther than she would imagine, and encompasses a love like 'Uncle Joe', "That looks on tempests and is never shaken;/It is the star to every wand'ring bark."

Neruda's sonnet, then, gives a poignant clue to Melissa's story, I think:
I love you in order to begin to love you,
to start infinity again
and never to stop loving you:
that's why I do not love you yet.

I love you, and I do not love you, as if I held
keys in my hand: to a future of joy -
a wretched, muddled fate -

Now, just as I write this I see the references circle back to Will Shakespeare! Neruda's "I love you, and I do not love you" seem an echo of Prince Hamlet's disjointed declarations to the fair Ophelia in Act Three, Scene One of "Hamlet" (lines 125, 129 in the Folger Shakespeare Library edition) just before the "Get thee to a nunnery" speech.

I wonder if Ophelia offers a clue about Melissa, or vice versa?

I will keep you posted, as it were!









[The photos were taken at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, D.C. in Dec. 2005. Yes, that is me in front of the stage in the Library's theater. The relief of "Hamlet" is one of the many carved on the buildings exterior. The mosaic is a portion of the floor in the lobby.]

Uncle Joe's Wedding: "Melissa"

ast night - oh wow! I am still buzzing with this dream! - I went to a wedding with my Crow. A wedding! It was bizarre at first because I was at one of my father's carnivals and it was night and I was watching the lights on the roller coaster cars speed and twist above me in the starless night. Then, suddenly, my Crow was on my shoulder whispering, "We've been invited to Uncle Joe's wedding." Before I could find my voice I was following him over to the roller coaster.

Without delay a train of cars appeared with animals seated in all but one of the cars - horses, bears, swans, a few rabbits and a falcon or two - oh, and some lions and the little black cat. (It sat next to me.) There may have been more, but those were all I had the chance to identify before the ride shot off above the carnival. My Crow was obviously having a blast leaning into the turns, but I have no idea how he was able to hang on because the speed at which we traveled was amazing. The lights, too, were fantastic as they seemed to leave streaks, spiral streaks, in the darkness as we flew.

When we landed and I saw the venue for the wedding my breath caught and my heart skipped. There was a simple wooden stage set in the clearing of an ancient forest. One impossibly tall pine, almost as tall as my Crow's tree but not quite, stood center stage at the rear. A white crane sheltered and a stag grazed under the tree. We who had just disembarked from the roller coaster train found places before the stage just as the Groom, 'Uncle Joe', came to stand before the tree and a long line of bridesmaids began to process to the stage. The weird thing, however, is that all the bridesmaids were dressed in white bridal gowns! The gowns were fashioned to fit different historical periods , among them Ancient Greek, medieval, Renaissance. They could have been costume brides, nothing more, but for the fact that each blew 'Uncle Joe' a kiss and addressed him as 'husband'!

The groom himself was dressed in attire from the nineteenth century I think; very handsome attire for a very handsome gentleman I must say. I was intrigued, however, when I saw that his waistcoat was a wonderful deep forest green. Well, I should say I was intrigued until I saw the Bride. Her gown was fashioned from the same green silk as her groom's waistcoat, but her gown seemed to be a 21st century interpretation of a nineteenth century gown whereas 'Uncle Joe's' suit appeared to be genuine for the period. His boutonniere and her bouquet were of stunning white roses. They were a gorgeous couple and obviously very much in love.

It is funny when I consider it, but I do not remember the wedding ceremony at all! They just seemed so right together that all I wanted to do was celebrate. (I think everyone, even the animals, felt the same way.) There was a great buzz - oh! Bees were there, too, but they did not ride the train, just flew on their own - when four men in Oriental dress came forward to present their gifts to the couple. They carried a banner embroidered with the yin/yang symbol for the couple to hang in their doorway to prevent the entry of malevolence, or 'devils'.

I made myself wake up and write down the names of these gentlemen so I could look them up and find out why they caused such a stir. They turn out to be four immortals: Liu Hai and the 'Three Stars of Happiness' - Shou Lao (longevity), Fu Shen (luck) and Cai Shen (wealth). I also found that the pine tree, the crane and the stag are symbols of immortality. The immortal Liu Hai presented the bridal couple with a string of gold pieces (these were made to look like roses) and he murmured something about a philosopher.

The last person to present a gift was the little girl in the vivid blue dress I have seen in previous dreams. She presented each of them with a peach. As she stood before them I was stunned to see that she bore a striking resemblance to the bride. When she bowed and said, 'Namaste', all of us cheered.

Oh, and then the music began and I could not believe my eyes or ears. Angels were singing. The Faery Queen and her King were singing. The Groom and his Bride were singing. My Crow was singing. All of us danced to"Love Is My Religion" and "Have Your Really Ever Loved a Woman?"

I cannot describe how wonderful it felt to see such love. I simply drank it all in - the people, the animals, the setting, the music, the words - and I was totally content. Nothing prepared me, however, for the bridal couple's exchange with me before they departed. They had been mingling, greeting each and every guest. When they approached me 'Uncle Joe' tipped his top hat (a whimsical affair I have drawn here) to me and bowed. He thanked me for coming and then indicated his Bride and myself with a gesture before saying cryptically, and with a wonderful smile, "You and she will work well together."

The chords of Mendelssohn's Wedding March from "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (Op. 61) sounded and they turned to wave to everyone. The Bride threw her bouquet. We guests showered them with rose petals as they boarded the train.

My heart is so full when I think of this dream. I do not know any 'Uncle Joe' nor have I any idea who this Bride may be with whom he has stated I will work well. I cannot imagine anything lovelier than a wedding for such a couple who start off on their life together accompanied by music written for one of the world's best loved plays from the inimitable William Shakespeare!

Musings.7: Barbara

Here I sit with my mug of chai tea, feeling as if I have awakened in one of my character "Melissa's" dreamscapes. Fog shrouds the skyline, settling a hush around this little neighborhood. Mist drips from the leaves of the magnolia across the street. What "Dream Weaver" is responsible for this scene? I like that - "Dream Weaver" - like the song by Gary Wright sooooo many years ago. When I look at the dreams woven into "Melissa's" life I admit I am largely responsible for them, yet I also freely admit to the existence of some Creative force which, when I tune in to it, gives me some splendid threads to use in the weaving of "Melissa's" character.

The tea party with the Goddesses was a complete surprise to me, especially the way it dovetailed so beautifully with T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". I laughed when I realized the tea party was a reference to Eliot's poem because I remember Fr. Robert Boyle, S.J., back at Marquette University, telling us in one of his lectures about James Joyce that Joyce referred to Eliot (Thomas Stearns) as "Tea Stain Eliot"!

Whatever the dynamics between those avant garde early 20th century writers I am indebted to Eliot, for his poem offered a unifying structure for an encounter with all those various Goddesses. As I focused on "Melissa's" latest dream I realized I was to include the Valkyries and Xi Wang Mu, all of whom I had discovered in an encyclopedia of world mythology, as well as the Faery Queen and the Crow, of course, but how to do so?

Then, of all things, I thought of the teapot in the accompanying photo. This was a Christmas gift from my mother-in-law maybe twelve years ago and I just love its combination of whimsy, beauty and practicality. Still, however, I was not certain what to do with a teapot, four Goddesses, a Faery Queen and a Crow. So, back to the books to examine what I had - Valkyries, mead, meat, Xi Wang Mu, queen of the Western Paradise, peaches. "Peaches" was the piece that resolved the puzzle and pointed to "Prufrock". The rest just fell into place.

It is a delight to discover that "Melissa" inherits my love of Guinness! Oh, I do love Guinness - so smooth and creamy - but I save it for a treat because, as the Bard wrote in Sonnet 102: "And sweets grown common lose their dear delight." (I did make a Guinness cake, but I need to tinker with the recipe as it was a little dry - good, but dry.)

One element of the dream is still a bit of a mystery to me - the magnolia. I have no idea where "Melissa" lives so I cannot say if it is a part of her life. If it is another bit of my life appearing in her dreams, I wonder why?