robot sex

dreamt of robot sex, dying trees and strange rituals and video. 'looks like an angry shave" he said. "you must have seen my dreams." she said. (with SB and Sal)

The wedding feast

I had a strange and beautiful dream. I was seated at a table for a fancy wedding feast. I was sitting with a girl I had just met, but neither of us felt sure we were supposed to be there, or where we were supposed to sit. they brought us roses dipped in the most delicious blue and purple candy that we could suck on or eat, and some strange tokens that were to be used later in the ritual. we seemed to be at Reed College, and I recognized a couple of co-workers there, but no one I knew well.  I was sure it was a wedding, though at no time was it clear who the bride and groom were, throughout the elaborate ceremony, I never saw them.  At one point someone said "that is where the mothers sit" and we changed our seats, feeling uncomfortable I told them "oh, she's not my mother," though the girl was clearly much younger than I, and she was a bit miffed that I had said that.  Then the part of the ceremony came where we went into the hall and there was bright green waters rushing through the halls, kind of levitating so nothing really got wet. each member of the the party got into a kayak and we went rushing through the building in a circuituous route, trying to control the speeding boats with our paddles and wearing elaborate costumes. my boat went into a spin, but I was able to gain control and keep from capsizing, which I think one other boat did. that is the majority of what I remember. I awoke warm and took my blankets aside and felt the need to do some stretching as I often do at night, especially when I have been doing lots of yoga- (7 days this week) and also not drinking enough water. as I was lying there, my butt was uncovered, and I began to fall back asleep. I had a half waking dream that Iyan and probably Gar were outside my door and looking in. I covered my bum, but then realized I was dreaming again.

song circle

It was an evening of sharing visions. Solutions and inspirations poured forth from the lips of kindred, engaged, open minds, hearts, spirits and imaginations. and then, The dream, a continuation. People arrived, with names like Bark, Tarp, and Sun Song, things that protect, defend and nurture. they welcomed me into the song circle. The songs they played and sang were beautiful and inspiring. We all knew each other well, though we could not always remember why. Likewise the songs were familiar, but I did not know the words. Perhaps the chorus but not the verse. the words they spoke were kind and true. The instruments they played were beautiful and unique. But when I looked into my teacher's eyes, his expression changed, joy turned to compassion, sadness, fear, reflecting all my own feelings of self doubt and pain as he slowly dissolved before my eyes into eyes, swirling eyes. I wanted the dream to continue, as it had before, waking and going back to sleep, to be in the circle, to hear more songs, but now my teacher was leaving, I knew I was dreaming, but also that it was time to wake up. time to think and write. This dream was about letting go of doubts, fears, sadness, ego, excuses and justifications, even about letting go of teachers and guides, once the lessons are learned. It was a reminder that all the knowledge and answers I need are already within, and that all we need to do to manifest our dreams is to truly believe and create the reality of our visions. It was a dream about waking up. and as I woke to write my impressions, the song it left me with was "I am the eye, I am the I. I am the eye, I am the I". The other songs were beautiful too, and I wish I remembered more, but perhaps in time. Thank you Lulu Mosman for welcoming me to the song circles and being my new, supportive beautiful friend, and for having the courage to go to North Dakota and fight the pipeline. Thank you Sun Song (and Zebba was in the dream too, in a phone call) for being a long true friend and singing the songs of truth with me. Thank you Antonio Zamora for the power of your convictions and all you have taught me. Thank you Zelah Matheson for believing in your dreams and sharing them. Thank you Sam Smith for inviting the Bucky Fuller fans to gather to gether to envision a brighter future. I have a feeling this dream is just a beginning of a whole new song <3

Sisters Sharing Stories

I had a beautiful, powerful dream this morning before waking. It was my birthday, and for the celebration we had rented a house by the sea. I was holding a large frog, as I sat in a circle of women, talking. My mother was there, and also my daughter. Many of the women were older, and old friends of my mother’s, others were younger, and many were not known to me in waking life, but instead represented women of different cultures, different ethnicities, from around the world. There seemed to be twelve or thirteen of us, seated in a circle. At one point I said it is time for me to release this frog, and I went out, finding a sort of canal with fresh water that seemed suitable, as I heard other frogs singing there. I plunged in with the frog, I was fully dressed, holding the frog, my handbag, and everything. I did not know how deep it was, or if it was safe, but I did not hesitate. In the water I let the frog swim free, and it swam to my daughter who was also in the water. She caught hold of it, but I told her no, it is time to let it go. Back in the house, we sat in the circle, taking turns telling our stories. It did not seem like we were wet or cold, just sitting, sharing stories like sisters. Many of the women had very sad stories of abuse, mistreatment, struggles, political unrest in their homes. I remember one women, perhaps African, in colorful dress told what it was like to be not secondary, but tertiary, like being the third wife of her husband. She felt that she and her children were not really loved and supported by this man, did not really fit in. She was very sad. I told her a story of a friend (in the dream it was Alyssa, but I am not aware of the story having any other basis in “real” life) the girl in the story had been adopted and made to work in the kitchen and never felt love or belonging. I don’t remember all the details clearly, but it seemed she had run away, become homeless, gone through trials and at last been married to a man who did not love her. However, she found her comfort and sense of home in the kitchen, in cooking and serving foods. After I told this story (interestingly not my own story) we went into the kitchen where many foods were laid out for us. Many varieties of cheeses, sausages and other delectibles. I remember wondering if the sausage was vegetarian. Out of a large window we could see the sea. When our plates were full, we went back to the circle, but some of the women (I think there may have been one or two men as well) needed to leave. I suggested that we take a break, to eat, rest, or talk among ourselves before returning to the formal circle, because I felt it was important for each guest to have a chance to speak and be heard with compassion and respect. At this point I awoke, very moved and inspired. For my next birthday I will be 45 and I would like to organize something like this. It could be a retreat by the sea, or it could be just a circle of sisters sharing stories, perhaps at In Other Words. A place for women to speak, and be heard, with compassion and respect. I want to share this vision with others. Anyone who has ever felt unwanted, did not fit in, or never felt their story was important, it is.

black butterfly with a somatic chart of the heart

I want to show Naomi, this delicate treasure made by Amber and given to me, but she man handles it and it falls apart even though i keep asking her not to touch it.  earlier in the dream I am talking to Ariel about my storage problems and ask her if she ever found her car keys. after out talk on the phone I find the car keys in a shoe box along with remote controls. I put them in the "ignition" and the engine starts, but there really is no car. none the less I all her to tell her I found her keys and the car started, and she should come and get it out of my storage....odd. did some research on somatic, heart, nerve, stem cell, and soma, with some interesting results- art coming soon.

WKRP

Ok, here is a strange one. I read a post on FB last night that Jennifer Robin wrote wherein she mentioned having a dream with Loni Anderson and aliens. then I dreamed I was in a re-enactment of WKRP in Cinncinnatti last night! and guess which actress I embodied? that's right- Loni anderson! I even had to google it this morning because my memory for pop culture personas is like zilch, but sure enough, my subconscious mind remembered- ahh wasted youth...I am not making this stuff up!
the feeling of embodying Loni Anderson in my dream- bleach blond hair, men jealous of my attentions and all, was not unlike her reference to people being possessed by aliens which at first made me wonder if Loni Anderson was perhaps an alien, but then I realized it is far more likely that I am. the dream also involved a very run down apartment full of odds and ends we were trying to organize and sell, reminiscent of wacky willies and some very strange plumbing arrangements...another odd thing about the dream was that even though I was aware that we were re-enacting WKRP, and i even got a sense of recognizing the episode as one I had seen before, (deja vu within the ream, not an actual episode that I can recall) I still didn't realize that I was dreaming in spite of how odd everything seemed. I spent many hours wtching tv hen I was young, but i eplore it now, and have very little memory of early years, but I do remember that I enjoyed that show and thought that the Howard Hesseman character was cool and cute, but in the dream he was jealous because I had slept with the Gordon Jump character whom I am not attracted to. there was no sex scene, so i think we just slept together.