Odd Dream

Remember children, if you steal where you land, you’ll never get far.

Such an odd thing to say… last spoken line in a movie-like dream.

It was an odd dream, like watching child versions of myself and an old friend from afar. We were playing in the shallow end of a pool on a warm day, with sunlight dancing off the water. The speaker was woman dressed in a 1950’s bathing suit. We were young and she was minding us. Then the dream flipped to the end scene in the movie, shot in the same location at a later time. All three of us appear to be sleeping, still in our bathing suits, still in the water. We are sitting together, leaning on each other, with our heads tilted different ways. For a moment, I’m confused because it is snowing. Are we sleeping? Are we dead? Are we under the water? No, there is snow on our heads and shoulders, snow dusting the thin layer of ice on the water. We look transparent in the blur of swirling snow, as if faded shells of ourselves. Then Rodney’s shell breaks and there is nothing there. He’s gone.

I woke up wondering who she was, definitely not my mother and too thin to be his… but, I don’t know what she looked like then as we did not know each other as children. Then I wondered if he died. He always vanishes, one way or another, just before I wake up from a haunting dream. Why he still sneaks into my dreams now and then is beyond me… we haven’t spoke one word in over five years. When was the last time I saw him? 2005? Why use the land instead rhyming far with are? “If you steal where you are, you’ll never get far” would be easier for children to remember.

The whole thing is odd… bit bizarre, as we’re not thieves.

I don’t steal because my experience of being wrongfully accused of stealing as a young child got drilled deep into my soul. I got whooped, had to apologize and everything, so humiliated over a stupid little Santa soap. Aunt Donna had a whole dish full of personal use size novelty soaps. She told me that I could keep the one I had used. I asked if I could take it home and she said YES, but she sure as hell didn’t have my back when mother marched me over there to return it. Maybe that’s why I have a hard time asking anyone for anything… to this day, I’d rather not.

On another note…

The women’s art show scheduled for this summer will be a “virtual” event, details to come… not sure if they intend to hang it or just post images sent with entries online somewhere. I hope not, mainly because photos for my entries were snapped with an old cell phone camera and they’re not the best… here’s a comparison.

Opportunity, snapped with old cell phone camera.

Opportunity, quick snap with new phone’s camera.

Maybe just my opinion, but the colors look dulled in the submitted photo. Maybe it is just my eyes… cropped images look flat. They lack the depth of background, shadows on walls and such, so I’m hoping they hang the art and do a virtual tour with a video camera.

Odds are, Opportunity won’t be accepted anyway. I just want to get my fave piece in… that’s My Aura. If you want to see it, it’s on Mice4Mars.com (my relatively new art blog). It’s a WordPress blog, recently upgraded to a paid plan to go “ad-free” as I really do NOT want ads for flabby arm ointment or political bull stuck in between art photos. Someday, this blog will be ad-free, too. I’m waiting a bit to stagger the annual renewals so the payments won’t hit the bank at the same time.

Thanks for reading… peace be with you, wherever you land.

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Rain in Ytown

It only rains at street level,
Or just not visible above the lights.
Not one spatter on my windows,
Such a strange delight.

N©2013

Tell Me (art)

This art inspired the poem, but does not visually go with the poem. Or rather, the inspiration for the poem was the words on this art combined with last night’s dream…

If I were a person of unlimited means, I would be shopping for a shoemaker to recreate the oh so fabulous traveling boots worn in the dream as those boots were so fine, an unusual design, seemed to go on forever, made of the best and trimmed in an exotic fur above the knees, definately not cheap boots and like something I have never seen. And they were called “traveling boots” in the dream, the pair I put on to leave. My sister took my other boots, also an unusual pair of very nice tall boots, and put them next to the bed of a man I love and we had words about it as that was not fair to him. Leaving my boots by his bed was like staking a claim, kind of like a cat marking her territory to ward off other cats, and I could not do that to him. So I snuck into his room and silently retrieved the boots while he was making love to another woman, which was weird to dream about but oddly, I only felt saddened, not jealous.

I don’t know what happened to that other pair of boots as dreams tend to omit things, flips to new scene, and I’m still wearing the traveling boots and carrying just a leather handbag (no baggage) as I hop a train.

I really liked those traveling boots, and not only because they looked so grand on me. They made me feel so confident and I could move with ease, as if freed of all disability. Maybe they are magical?

As for the art, they are gouche paintings, each 2.5×3.5 inches cut from a painting done just puttering around while babysitting my infant grandson and his 8 year old uncle over the weekend. (Sounds complicated? Nah, it just make me a young step-great-grandmother by future marriage.) The 8 year old loves art, so we broke out the gouche. The words were later added with Polychromos.

Thanks for reading this blog and viewing my art!

If you are into dreams, do boots mean anything?

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