Wednesday, April 30, 2008

a dream vision

Yesterday I was feeling unsure of myself. I turned once again to my tarot cards. I recently bought the deck of the Sephiroth. I have done readings for friends with uncanny results. I had been unsatisfied with the readings I'd done for myself so far. Even when I asked a specific question I would still get an ambiguous answer. However, it was bothering me that I was so caught up on this young man. Certainly I knew better that to let my lust carry me away. What was it me or was it him that was causing this feeling in me? I did a six card linear spread from left to right, and five of the six cards had appeared in the readings I had done two nights before with essentially the same question at heart. It was startling how these pieces had reassembled in the order they had. There minor cards showed a man, the window of opportunity, right will, and nature. The major cards showed the Magician, the cosmic made manifest through the application of will, and Temperance, the tempering of masculinity with feminity and the elements of nature with each other. It was startlingly relevant to my question, with an important reiteration of the importance and power of right willing. So now the question had changed to one of action.

So last night I prayed for a dream vision. I took my prayer stone in my hands and opened my bag of dreaming stones and mugwort. I set the bag to the right of my bed and placed another bag of lavender with two more special stones at the head of my bed. I sat on my bed facing the window and prayed with prayer stone over my heart and head and asked the mysteries for a dream vision regarding what kind of action to take, since I my intentions seemed to be in the right place. I didn't quite know what to expect, as I had never explicitly called out to the cosmos for guidance. I prayed until I felt I'd finished, set the prayer stone beside the dream stones, and fell asleep.

I was a young woman, approximately the same age I am now, perhaps a little older. I was still a student living in the city. My brother lived in another city. In that city there lived a man with whom I was in love. The young man was in love with me, too, but our love lay dormant because of the distance separating us. My brother knew of my beloved, but did not know him. My beloved was a religious man and was, like I, committed to a religious education. He covered his head and appeared to be devoutly Jewish. Secretly I was collecting tokens which reminded me of my beloved. In my room I had collected a small mass of blue, red, and gold items that appeared to be various takes on the Superman insignia.

Quite suddenly an imminent danger appeared on the horizon and was descending upon the cities quite fast. I had no choice but to make haste to my beloved to warn him. We had no time to savor the sweetness of being reunited because of the danger which followed after me. I plucked the outward signs of faith from his appearance and we fled. First we fled through the dark streets, seemingly deserted of all friendly faces, danger lurking. I was guiding him to safety though I didn't know exactly where we would find it. We had no defense except for the swiftness to outrun our enemies. We escaped to a train where we hid from and narrowly escaped our enemies, who would have shot us on sight. From the train we escaped to a house. We ran from the front of the house through towards the back, and as we reached the rear of the house, we could find no way out. Our enemies had just entered through the front and would find us soon if we did not discover an exit. With moments to spare, there appeared the woman who lived in the house. She was large, vibrant, warm, and her skin was honey and olive. She showed us a door on the other side of a mirror, and we escaped through it to the back yard.

Once we crossed the threshhold into the yard, it became my yard and my house. I was older now and there were friends in the house. I stood just outside the house and I held a branch full of cherry blossoms in my right hand. In the middle of the yard between two cherry blossom trees sat a little girl about three years old. She was my daughter, and she sat with a woman and was painting her face with blue, red, and gold paint. As I watched them, my daughter finished painting the other woman's face. But the woman was unhappy. She didn't like the way my daughter had painted on her. I found it very beautiful though, red and blue and gold paint sparkling on her face and a glob of gold dripping through her hair. But the other woman was in fact also me, before I had wanted my daughter, and her discomfort with children had been my own. The other woman left when I approached my daughter because she had never really been there. I gave her the branch which was from her father, my beloved, who was away for important reasons. He had asked me to give it to our daughter to make a bed of flowers. She set the branch down and layed across it. We were happy and in love.

As soon as I woke up, I forgot my dream, but as soon as I sat down for a moment in my living room, it returned to me so fully I immediately wrote it down. It is only the second dream I've ever had that has ended with a conclusion rather than ending abruptly in the midst of action.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Swooning Swans Swept Away on the Seas

My eyes were the size of the skies.

Green and clean and mirrors of mine so we see,

I slipped through the floor in a gold and white fold.

Silhouettes of sea sounds

flitted forth from your face,

and your smile drew dunes 'cross sunned skin.

The size of my eyes was too wide,

and your gaze fell away from my play.

Still, from my sill, in the sumptuous rain,

the green of my dream swayed and danced until dawn.

The next day on my way from the train,

I cast free from my thought,

the illusion of fusion of minds.

I dared my desires desert me,

cast away such fantastical flights.

A day or two spent, and I willfully went,

but dared not hope perchance we might pass.

When the day's work was done,

to a bed of brown eyes I spoke of vast skies,

revelations and astral designs.

But in those bulbs of dark brown,

not a glimpse to be found,

of that glimmering green of the sand and the sea.

No sooner had passed this desire so dreaded,

than I did dismiss it as folly.

No sooner dismissed,

through the window I glimpsed

your figure, passing in stride.

Shocked as I was, no matter,

because... my willful unwilling had won.

Let me will you away,

so I meet you some day,

when all that remains are the memory stains,

of those eyes, emerald stars,

swallowed up by the sands of my dreams.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Book receipt

Shakespeare & Co. Downtown
716 Broadway
New York, New York 10003
Phone: 212 529-1330
Http://www.shakeandco.com

QTY PRODUCT DEPT PRICE
----- -----------------------------------------------
1 @ Purity & Danger :208505 14.95

TOTAL SALE $ 14.95
@ SALES TAX $ 1.26
15812 NET SALE $ 16.21

1 MASTERCARD $16.21
CARD NUMBER **************** XX/XX




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4/22/08
You don't know me, but I know you. Deep inside you
there are shadowy corners where you've hidden your
shameful secrets. You know what I'm talking about.
You're shifty now. You're avoiding my gaze. What are
you hiding? We're all hiding something. My secret is
that secretly I thrive on all this pain. It reminds me
how vulnerable this plane of existence is and yet, how
enduring. It will go on without me. Without you, too,
and so will our secrets. But secrets are lies. I don't
want to die with lies in my heart, so I try never to
carry any. The sad thing is, most people don't want to
hear the truth. They loathe what the truth does to
illusions, and illusions are oh so precious nowadays.
People will give up everything to live beyond the bare
bones reality of walking everyday upon this Earth. Life
will kill you. It's as simple as that. Might as well live it
up while you can! I want to be among the awakened
when this dream ends. My dreams are the reality I care
most about. They are my true brainstorms, and there is
only calm after. Beauty and terror. Sorrow and joy.