Last night I was up and down with the dogs all night. (Once again, I gave them some people food that didn't agree with their stomaches.) But the good part of that is that I was able to catch multiple dreams. The first I caught was at around 12:00.
I was with my friend Mitzie in a back yard (mine supposedly)of a New York town house. Bible study had just ended and we were talking about the painting I just finished for her. (A painting I really did just finish yesterday.) As we talked we got fruit off of a tree. The discussion was about things she wanted to add to the painting. She wanted to add some poppies on a hill in the background. I was a little flustered that I was no longer "done" with the painting. When we finally looked at the clock it said 3:00AM. We mentioned that she had stayed for four hours since study time. Then, as we were walking to the front door we noticed it was open. "That's not good." I was shocked and had a fleeting thought that a burglar had gotten in my house, but when I looked out the door I noticed my dad sitting on the brick stair railing that butted up against the porch. I could see people and ambulances and other 3:00AM type sights on the streets of New York around my house. My dad was looking forlorn watching and waiting. I asked what he was doing. He said, "Savannah's not home yet." (That's my 18 year old daughter.) I knew what that meant. When she did get home she would be in DEEP trouble, and her car would be taken away. The rest of the dream was just standing there looking, waiting, and thinking about where she could be. Was she in danger? Was she out with her boyfriend? hmmm.
There were two other dreams between then and morning, but all I remember from them are scattered images and a song, so I'll skip ahead to the one I had just before waking up at 6:00.
I was volunteering at a woman's shelter (probably thinking of a book I'm reading called House of Hope). I had walked through the building and then around the block. When I came around to the back door I noticed a large pile of feminine products. Someone had dropped off a donation of pads, razors, tampons, aspirin, q-tips, etc. I started gathering them into my arms, and taking them inside. A woman told me where there was a bathroom that I could stash them in. It took me a few trips but the moment I was done I was ushered into a multipurpose room with cork boards along the wall covered in construction paper with rick-rack edges ala-elementary school style. Some had things pinned to them, others were empty. There were plastic and metal chairs around the room and people started to filter inside. The pastor from my church told me to grab some things off the wall and put them away. I went to the wall and found injection viles and other types of medical looking paraphernalia. I was taking them down while Pastor Scott was having the women sit in chairs. I took the stuff outside where I assumed there would be someone to pick them up, or perhaps I was waiting for another donation. I'm not sure, but there was a litter of puppies outside that needed my care. So I started loving on them. Then I woke up.
The first dream is pretty obviously about two things I'm worried about. I want to be done with Mitzie's painting, as it has been on my to-do list for a year now. And I'm worried about my daughter getting into any furthur trouble because my husband has said the next thing to be taken away will be her car.
The second dream no doubt centers around my book. I've mentioned before that puppies in my dreams usually refer to youth. I tend to work with youth more so than with women my own age or older.
Showing posts with label art pictures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art pictures. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Saturday, April 30, 2011
It's Been So Long
It's been so long since I posted, and not for lack of dreams.
I went on vacation... and of course had spectacularly strange dreams then, and I've been home and on the hCG diet for the past week, which also produces some mighty strange dreams.
Do most of you have crazy dreams while in a foreign bed? Isn't that weird? I wonder why it is that our body produces "off" dreams in a strange place.
My most memorable of the dreams I had on vacation was one of Carrie and I sitting out on a side patio of "my house". The yard was huge and bordered by a ditch. Two thugs walked into my yard and were going to pass through. I suggested they cross at the border near the ditch, but they insisted on coming through the side patio. Really they were coming to hurt us or rob us or some such nonsense. As they approached, Carrie and I became a fighting force. We brutally beat the crap out of both of them. I slammed one guy's face onto a planter box, and just wailed on him non-stop. She held him down breifly then turned and beat up the other guy.
That was the extent of the dream. It was vivid and very "real".
I take it as "Don't mess with Carrie and I as a team." haha
The hCG induced dreams of this past week have included one where my wall in the dining room had a leak and water was puddling on the floor. A wet spot could be seen at the base of the wall, going up about a foot.
Another was about bugs on my blue living room carpet. A yellow scorpion about the size of my thumb was the first bug I saw, then tons more... centipedes, beetles, earwigs... I lifted the carpet to shake them off, and at least 100 poured off. ugg!!!
I had another about something weird in my house that I can't remember now.
I'm taking these as, "Hey, what's this weird hormone in my 'house'?"
Last night I watched "Exit through The Gift Shop", a documentary about street art and a particular dude who named himself "Mr. Brainwash". It was interesting and not at all what I was expecting.
We had a discussion after watching it where we talked about what we could do if we had an entourage of people creating our ideas for us with an unlimited money supply.
This morning I woke up with so many art ideas. The biggest of which was about creating digital art of each of my dreams. I could give you a visual of all these dreams that I write about.
My mind was swirling with with snap shots I would take from each dream. Every dream I thought of I could think of the one moment that I would like to capture from it. That was surprising to me; one imagine from each dream rose up. Does that mean that's the "main idea" of each dream? Or simply that it was the most vivid part? Why one thing? Am I supposed to do something with this?
Then I thought of my new Ipad that arrives in a couple weeks, and all the art apps that I'll have for creating with. Perhaps creating a few dream images won't be so hard. Perhaps.
You'll be the first to know if this idea becomes a reality. :-)
I went on vacation... and of course had spectacularly strange dreams then, and I've been home and on the hCG diet for the past week, which also produces some mighty strange dreams.
Do most of you have crazy dreams while in a foreign bed? Isn't that weird? I wonder why it is that our body produces "off" dreams in a strange place.
My most memorable of the dreams I had on vacation was one of Carrie and I sitting out on a side patio of "my house". The yard was huge and bordered by a ditch. Two thugs walked into my yard and were going to pass through. I suggested they cross at the border near the ditch, but they insisted on coming through the side patio. Really they were coming to hurt us or rob us or some such nonsense. As they approached, Carrie and I became a fighting force. We brutally beat the crap out of both of them. I slammed one guy's face onto a planter box, and just wailed on him non-stop. She held him down breifly then turned and beat up the other guy.
That was the extent of the dream. It was vivid and very "real".
I take it as "Don't mess with Carrie and I as a team." haha
The hCG induced dreams of this past week have included one where my wall in the dining room had a leak and water was puddling on the floor. A wet spot could be seen at the base of the wall, going up about a foot.
Another was about bugs on my blue living room carpet. A yellow scorpion about the size of my thumb was the first bug I saw, then tons more... centipedes, beetles, earwigs... I lifted the carpet to shake them off, and at least 100 poured off. ugg!!!
I had another about something weird in my house that I can't remember now.
I'm taking these as, "Hey, what's this weird hormone in my 'house'?"
Last night I watched "Exit through The Gift Shop", a documentary about street art and a particular dude who named himself "Mr. Brainwash". It was interesting and not at all what I was expecting.
We had a discussion after watching it where we talked about what we could do if we had an entourage of people creating our ideas for us with an unlimited money supply.
This morning I woke up with so many art ideas. The biggest of which was about creating digital art of each of my dreams. I could give you a visual of all these dreams that I write about.
My mind was swirling with with snap shots I would take from each dream. Every dream I thought of I could think of the one moment that I would like to capture from it. That was surprising to me; one imagine from each dream rose up. Does that mean that's the "main idea" of each dream? Or simply that it was the most vivid part? Why one thing? Am I supposed to do something with this?
Then I thought of my new Ipad that arrives in a couple weeks, and all the art apps that I'll have for creating with. Perhaps creating a few dream images won't be so hard. Perhaps.
You'll be the first to know if this idea becomes a reality. :-)
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Am I Prepared?
I really haven't dreamed much of interest lately... thus no new entries, but I thought I'd share last night's as it seemed very vivid and long.
It started in a room at church, not my church particularly, but a church; I could tell because of the people who were there, and because of the size and emptiness of the room. We were clearly in what we called the "fellowship hall" when I was growing up. (It's the multi-purpose room of a church where most food related events take place.) In my dream I was there with a hand full of kids from the elementary class that I help out with once a month. There may have been a couple adults, but I don't remember any. My dogs were with me, as was the greyhound from an internet rescue story I read yesterday. I was coaxing my dog Knuckles to be nice to the greyhound. When I realized that the interaction wasn't going to improve, I walked outside. The dogs were gone and all the kids were ahead of me in a large field that I've seen before in dreams that has a large pool in it. The kids were getting into the pool along with other classroom helpers. I wanted to swim as well but didn't have a suit. For some reason I thought it would be better to swim naked than in my clothes, so I stripped down and got in the pool. There was a hot tub in one section of the pool and most of the kids and helpers were in it. I tried to stay close to the wall of the hot tub hiding my nakedness. One little boy came up and touched my boob, and I had to swim away from the wall shooing him away. At that point I saw my sister on shore and asked her to bring me a bathing suit. A few minutes later she brought me back a tiny string bikini (that I owned about 9 years ago to lay out in). I fumbled with the suit under water all the while noticing parents of the children, who were now there to pick up their kids, watching me in disgust. I finally got the suit on just as someone was saying that if anyone needed a ride home now was the time to call your parents. I got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around me. I called my mom and said I could walk home, but would she bring me the dogs so I could give them a walk too, so I didn't have to do two walks that day. I knew the area and it was about 2 miles from my house.
About the time I made it to the street to start the walk home the scenery changed and I was no longer myself. I was Antonio Banderas with shoulder length hair and a long trench coat on, walking with my girlfriend into a huge mansion. The mansion was very dark and full of fancy wood paneling and large decor. I was explaining to her that I had agreed to do the painting for her father. (Her father didn't really like me, but doing the painting was a bribe of sorts to smooth things over between us, since I wanted to marry his daughter.) My eye went directly to a large painting on the wall behind me to my left of a "Niagara Falls" type close-up painting, that was lava instead of water. I kept looking to the left as we walked down an open hallway, into each alcove along the way. Each section had more paintings, each in a series that had to do with the lava one. They were all dark, made of browns, reds, and blacks, and each had an element of a puzzle in them. At first, the puzzle pieces were not the main focus, but the further down the hall we got the puzzle grew and became the main subject of the painting. My painting was going to be a part of this series and I wasn't sure exactly how. My girlfriend's father's footsteps could be heard in the distance in front of us and to our right, we quickly ducked into one of the alcoves on our left and waited for a stairway to appear. The stairs had been a part of the wall beneath the chair rail molding, but as we watched they stretched out from the wall to form an actual staircase. I started to step on them while they were still "doll size", but quickly realized that they were going to grow more. I stepped off a little embarrassed, and waited for a few seconds longer as even the top half of the wall protruded out and the stairs had plenty of room to go up and behind the section of wall. Right as we got on the stairs my alarm went off and I had to wake up; which was very disappointing.
So... what does it mean?
Well, I can tell you where the elements came from...
The greyhound, as I mentioned was from a story I read yesterday. (Very touching about a rescued greyhound, who in turn helped with nurturing other rescued animals.)
The church kids were there most likely from me thinking this past Sunday that I had to help out, when really my Sunday is two Sundays away.
The smallness of the bikini is coming from me trying to get to the same size I was 9 years ago before we go to Hawaii in a few months.
Antonio Banderas is on my mind from a conversation I had with my friend Saturday morning while her daughter was watching Shrek the Third, about Puss-in-Boots having his own movie, and me questioning if that could be any good.
Niagra Falls imagery comes from my husband's trip to Toronto this coming weekend. And I imagine that the puzzle pieces in all the dark paintings are about me pieces together the dark events on the prophetic calendar.
Being naked and ashamed is a common theme in dreams usually about not being prepared, or possibly exposing vulnerable parts of yourself.
My pool dreams typically are about cleansing or refreshing. It's interesting that I was ashamed at the same time as being cleansed... but I guess that is how it goes sometimes. It makes me think of the prayer I received this past Sunday.
I knew God wanted me to go up and get prayer for my 12 year anniversary of marriage. So I went to a couple that I admire and asked them to pray over me. I had to tell them a little of our "ugliness" so that they knew where I was coming from. Even in my vague explanation their prayer was so targeted it was as if I had divulged everything. That took place in our multi-purpose room BTW.
I have known for a while now that I have a part to play in teaching about prophetic events in today's world. Be it through paintings, or fashion, or words. I feel prepared, but not talented enough... which is generally how I view Antonio Banderas. I think that the grandness of the mansion that the paintings were in speaks of how great and overwhelming of a task I consider this undertaking.
The stairway was hopefully a good thing... but I guess I may never know that. (It did lead up. :-) )
It started in a room at church, not my church particularly, but a church; I could tell because of the people who were there, and because of the size and emptiness of the room. We were clearly in what we called the "fellowship hall" when I was growing up. (It's the multi-purpose room of a church where most food related events take place.) In my dream I was there with a hand full of kids from the elementary class that I help out with once a month. There may have been a couple adults, but I don't remember any. My dogs were with me, as was the greyhound from an internet rescue story I read yesterday. I was coaxing my dog Knuckles to be nice to the greyhound. When I realized that the interaction wasn't going to improve, I walked outside. The dogs were gone and all the kids were ahead of me in a large field that I've seen before in dreams that has a large pool in it. The kids were getting into the pool along with other classroom helpers. I wanted to swim as well but didn't have a suit. For some reason I thought it would be better to swim naked than in my clothes, so I stripped down and got in the pool. There was a hot tub in one section of the pool and most of the kids and helpers were in it. I tried to stay close to the wall of the hot tub hiding my nakedness. One little boy came up and touched my boob, and I had to swim away from the wall shooing him away. At that point I saw my sister on shore and asked her to bring me a bathing suit. A few minutes later she brought me back a tiny string bikini (that I owned about 9 years ago to lay out in). I fumbled with the suit under water all the while noticing parents of the children, who were now there to pick up their kids, watching me in disgust. I finally got the suit on just as someone was saying that if anyone needed a ride home now was the time to call your parents. I got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around me. I called my mom and said I could walk home, but would she bring me the dogs so I could give them a walk too, so I didn't have to do two walks that day. I knew the area and it was about 2 miles from my house.
About the time I made it to the street to start the walk home the scenery changed and I was no longer myself. I was Antonio Banderas with shoulder length hair and a long trench coat on, walking with my girlfriend into a huge mansion. The mansion was very dark and full of fancy wood paneling and large decor. I was explaining to her that I had agreed to do the painting for her father. (Her father didn't really like me, but doing the painting was a bribe of sorts to smooth things over between us, since I wanted to marry his daughter.) My eye went directly to a large painting on the wall behind me to my left of a "Niagara Falls" type close-up painting, that was lava instead of water. I kept looking to the left as we walked down an open hallway, into each alcove along the way. Each section had more paintings, each in a series that had to do with the lava one. They were all dark, made of browns, reds, and blacks, and each had an element of a puzzle in them. At first, the puzzle pieces were not the main focus, but the further down the hall we got the puzzle grew and became the main subject of the painting. My painting was going to be a part of this series and I wasn't sure exactly how. My girlfriend's father's footsteps could be heard in the distance in front of us and to our right, we quickly ducked into one of the alcoves on our left and waited for a stairway to appear. The stairs had been a part of the wall beneath the chair rail molding, but as we watched they stretched out from the wall to form an actual staircase. I started to step on them while they were still "doll size", but quickly realized that they were going to grow more. I stepped off a little embarrassed, and waited for a few seconds longer as even the top half of the wall protruded out and the stairs had plenty of room to go up and behind the section of wall. Right as we got on the stairs my alarm went off and I had to wake up; which was very disappointing.
So... what does it mean?
Well, I can tell you where the elements came from...
The greyhound, as I mentioned was from a story I read yesterday. (Very touching about a rescued greyhound, who in turn helped with nurturing other rescued animals.)
The church kids were there most likely from me thinking this past Sunday that I had to help out, when really my Sunday is two Sundays away.
The smallness of the bikini is coming from me trying to get to the same size I was 9 years ago before we go to Hawaii in a few months.
Antonio Banderas is on my mind from a conversation I had with my friend Saturday morning while her daughter was watching Shrek the Third, about Puss-in-Boots having his own movie, and me questioning if that could be any good.
Niagra Falls imagery comes from my husband's trip to Toronto this coming weekend. And I imagine that the puzzle pieces in all the dark paintings are about me pieces together the dark events on the prophetic calendar.
Being naked and ashamed is a common theme in dreams usually about not being prepared, or possibly exposing vulnerable parts of yourself.
My pool dreams typically are about cleansing or refreshing. It's interesting that I was ashamed at the same time as being cleansed... but I guess that is how it goes sometimes. It makes me think of the prayer I received this past Sunday.
I knew God wanted me to go up and get prayer for my 12 year anniversary of marriage. So I went to a couple that I admire and asked them to pray over me. I had to tell them a little of our "ugliness" so that they knew where I was coming from. Even in my vague explanation their prayer was so targeted it was as if I had divulged everything. That took place in our multi-purpose room BTW.
I have known for a while now that I have a part to play in teaching about prophetic events in today's world. Be it through paintings, or fashion, or words. I feel prepared, but not talented enough... which is generally how I view Antonio Banderas. I think that the grandness of the mansion that the paintings were in speaks of how great and overwhelming of a task I consider this undertaking.
The stairway was hopefully a good thing... but I guess I may never know that. (It did lead up. :-) )
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Movies, Art, Fashion, and a Machine Gun
Last night's dream started as a movie...
I was John Cusack and I was with a young Dan Aykroyd in a two-seater plane. We were laughing and talking about girls and sex.
The view changed and I was out of the movie and sitting in the theater with my husband. We got up to leave and I mentioned to him that I had forgotten to go see Laurelin's show. (A friend of mine just had her first solo art show up at a gallery, and I did forget to go "opening" night.) So I walked over with him to a gymnasium where the show was. (It was the gym from my HS.) Her art was everywhere. It was like a life time of art; hundreds of pieces. I started on the wall to my right where there was a nautical theme going on. Perfect paintings of boats and wharfs (not her "norm"). I was commenting on one when her fiance David told me there was another wing that held her crafts. (She is a knitter and crafter as well... when the mood strikes.) So I walked over to that wing and looked behind glass at dolls and jewelry and buttons and other crafty things she had made (again, not her "norm".)
Then the scene changed and I was going to visit my friend Ramin in New York. I got to his apartment and started working on patterns on his floor. I was waiting for him to get home, but in the mean time I had taken at least 8 articles of clothing and was tracing them on to dotted pattern paper. They were all ugly clothes, very matronly. The idea was that I was going to try to get a job back at the St. John's design house(where Ramin and I worked after we graduated college). He came home and asked what I was doing. He looked over the clothes and my work and told me I was doing it all wrong. He said the clothes were hideous, and that my pattern tracing skills were terrible. "Don't you remember anything from school?" he asked. He then stormed off. The scene changed again and I was in the bed of a truck with all of the pattern making equipment and my luggage. Ramin was walking away from me down the NY street. I jumped out of the truck and went to him begging him to help me. We stood by a car and talked for a brief minute and then I saw a man jump in the truck bed and start to load up my stuff. I ran back to stop him, but he had a machine gun and pointed it at my face. I still yelled at him, saying, "That's my stuff, how dare you take it!" Ramin yelled my name, "Are you crazy?" he asked. Then I grabbed the machine gun that was at my face and turned it to face the man. Ramin again said, "Are you crazy? If you shoot him you'll be the one in trouble." But I shot at his arm anyway. Nothing... just air. So I aimed the gun at the yard beside me and shot again... just air. Then I reprimanded the man in the truck, "You were going to steal my stuff with an unloaded weapon?" I was still yelling at him when the dog woke me up.
This dream has loads of guilt in it.
Things that are bothering me that I keep replaying in my head.
That I still watch ill-humored movies, that I forgot Laurelin's show, that I screwed up the pattern for my daughter's Halloween costume cause I don't remember how to make sleeves. (I haven't done them since college.) It even has a bit from the book I'm reading called "Son of Hamas" where the machine guns he bought didn't work. The chapters in the book since that moment have filled me with guilt because I relate to the Israeli side, and they have kept the writer of the book in a prison torturing him for the past few chapters. (A true story... good book.)
The truck bed I'm sure has to do with me driving my husband's truck the other day to pick up my son's bike. (I don't drive it often... it's too big.)
Ramin is always put in my dreams when there is advice about my fashion career, because he is a person I will listen to. I think he stayed in the dream for the machine gun part because he is originally from Iran... which fits the setting of my book, at least in that neck of the world.
I think that the part about Laurelin's art not being "her's", was about myself as well. I used her in the dream because she is one artist I know that has a very common theme through her work so it's easy to see when it's not coming from 'her'. Most likely this was a reminder to me to be true to myself... which was also emphasized by the horrible clothes I was tracing... They were SO not me. :)
I was John Cusack and I was with a young Dan Aykroyd in a two-seater plane. We were laughing and talking about girls and sex.
The view changed and I was out of the movie and sitting in the theater with my husband. We got up to leave and I mentioned to him that I had forgotten to go see Laurelin's show. (A friend of mine just had her first solo art show up at a gallery, and I did forget to go "opening" night.) So I walked over with him to a gymnasium where the show was. (It was the gym from my HS.) Her art was everywhere. It was like a life time of art; hundreds of pieces. I started on the wall to my right where there was a nautical theme going on. Perfect paintings of boats and wharfs (not her "norm"). I was commenting on one when her fiance David told me there was another wing that held her crafts. (She is a knitter and crafter as well... when the mood strikes.) So I walked over to that wing and looked behind glass at dolls and jewelry and buttons and other crafty things she had made (again, not her "norm".)
Then the scene changed and I was going to visit my friend Ramin in New York. I got to his apartment and started working on patterns on his floor. I was waiting for him to get home, but in the mean time I had taken at least 8 articles of clothing and was tracing them on to dotted pattern paper. They were all ugly clothes, very matronly. The idea was that I was going to try to get a job back at the St. John's design house(where Ramin and I worked after we graduated college). He came home and asked what I was doing. He looked over the clothes and my work and told me I was doing it all wrong. He said the clothes were hideous, and that my pattern tracing skills were terrible. "Don't you remember anything from school?" he asked. He then stormed off. The scene changed again and I was in the bed of a truck with all of the pattern making equipment and my luggage. Ramin was walking away from me down the NY street. I jumped out of the truck and went to him begging him to help me. We stood by a car and talked for a brief minute and then I saw a man jump in the truck bed and start to load up my stuff. I ran back to stop him, but he had a machine gun and pointed it at my face. I still yelled at him, saying, "That's my stuff, how dare you take it!" Ramin yelled my name, "Are you crazy?" he asked. Then I grabbed the machine gun that was at my face and turned it to face the man. Ramin again said, "Are you crazy? If you shoot him you'll be the one in trouble." But I shot at his arm anyway. Nothing... just air. So I aimed the gun at the yard beside me and shot again... just air. Then I reprimanded the man in the truck, "You were going to steal my stuff with an unloaded weapon?" I was still yelling at him when the dog woke me up.
This dream has loads of guilt in it.
Things that are bothering me that I keep replaying in my head.
That I still watch ill-humored movies, that I forgot Laurelin's show, that I screwed up the pattern for my daughter's Halloween costume cause I don't remember how to make sleeves. (I haven't done them since college.) It even has a bit from the book I'm reading called "Son of Hamas" where the machine guns he bought didn't work. The chapters in the book since that moment have filled me with guilt because I relate to the Israeli side, and they have kept the writer of the book in a prison torturing him for the past few chapters. (A true story... good book.)
The truck bed I'm sure has to do with me driving my husband's truck the other day to pick up my son's bike. (I don't drive it often... it's too big.)
Ramin is always put in my dreams when there is advice about my fashion career, because he is a person I will listen to. I think he stayed in the dream for the machine gun part because he is originally from Iran... which fits the setting of my book, at least in that neck of the world.
I think that the part about Laurelin's art not being "her's", was about myself as well. I used her in the dream because she is one artist I know that has a very common theme through her work so it's easy to see when it's not coming from 'her'. Most likely this was a reminder to me to be true to myself... which was also emphasized by the horrible clothes I was tracing... They were SO not me. :)
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Illustration Assignment
In last night's dream I was back at my old job, assistant designer at St. John Knits. In the dream I had an illustrating assignment.
I had my rough sketches with me as I got in the car with my mom and my sister.
We went to a post office for my mom to mail something.
We were in a small hatch-back sports car.
We got out and noticed that the store would be closing soon.
I stood for a moment with the drawings on the top of the car while my mom and sister went in, then I joined them. Inside, a lady with green on tried to cut in front of us. (All of us were wondering who would be the last costumer seen, since they were closing.) I informed her that we were also in line. (Very out of character for me.)
As we were at the front of the line my old friend Tim came from the back room (as if his family owned the place). We hugged and exchanged "How nice it is to see you"s. Then he suggested we go outside to be able to talk better.
As we walked out he turned into my friend Ramin (they have a vaguely similar look and similar character). Ramin looked at my drawings, (he worked at St. John's back in the day too) and critiqued them. He told me to make them curvier. "Things have changed. Make 'em look more like we did in school."
I woke up as I was imagining a hippier illustrated body.
In real life, last night I worked on a fashion illustration of my friend Rebecca. It's the second friend I've done this past week, and I'm planning on doing a few more friends before the year is out. They are indeed curvier than the illustrations I drew in school or at work. But perhaps I need to adopt a curvier style into all of my fashion illustrations and get back into that a bit more in general. I love doing it. I always forget how much until I actually do one. (It's been around a year since I've done an illustration.)
PS... Found out today was Tim's birthday!
I had my rough sketches with me as I got in the car with my mom and my sister.
We went to a post office for my mom to mail something.
We were in a small hatch-back sports car.
We got out and noticed that the store would be closing soon.
I stood for a moment with the drawings on the top of the car while my mom and sister went in, then I joined them. Inside, a lady with green on tried to cut in front of us. (All of us were wondering who would be the last costumer seen, since they were closing.) I informed her that we were also in line. (Very out of character for me.)
As we were at the front of the line my old friend Tim came from the back room (as if his family owned the place). We hugged and exchanged "How nice it is to see you"s. Then he suggested we go outside to be able to talk better.
As we walked out he turned into my friend Ramin (they have a vaguely similar look and similar character). Ramin looked at my drawings, (he worked at St. John's back in the day too) and critiqued them. He told me to make them curvier. "Things have changed. Make 'em look more like we did in school."
I woke up as I was imagining a hippier illustrated body.
In real life, last night I worked on a fashion illustration of my friend Rebecca. It's the second friend I've done this past week, and I'm planning on doing a few more friends before the year is out. They are indeed curvier than the illustrations I drew in school or at work. But perhaps I need to adopt a curvier style into all of my fashion illustrations and get back into that a bit more in general. I love doing it. I always forget how much until I actually do one. (It's been around a year since I've done an illustration.)
PS... Found out today was Tim's birthday!
Friday, January 22, 2010
You have to go down to get up.
The dream's setting is a magnificent hotel building. There is a massive round foyer, grand curved stairways on both sides, white marble with black accent marble tiles; it's just grand.
The dream starts down a hallway where I'm looking for my room along with dozens of other women all there for an event. I know many of them. As I'm realizing that my room is on the next level up, I hear a woman wish out loud for a cappuccino. "I got a cappuccino maker for Christmas. It's in my room," I say. (It's true, I did get one for Christmas.) I continue up the stairs only to find that there is no entry to the hallway up there. I look over the edge to the grand entry room below and ask the woman attendant there how do I get to the hallway. She says, "You have to come down to get to the stairs that go up." I think that's pretty silly, but I come down anyway. When I get down I go into a lounge area. There are snooty women sitting around drinking and talking, all wearing formals. I'm wearing a formal now too. I see some old classmates from high school and they are wearing formals as well. (All women by the way.) A lady comes in to tell us that they set up the event in the wrong room, and that she will try to get them to carry all the stuff over here where it's supposed to be. So we are told to wait patiently. A few friends and I walk around looking at the space. There is a room being prepared for a new member. I know the girl that the room is being prepared for, so I watch with excitement. The walls are mirrored and grand and there is a man stamping a small black brick pattern on some of the walls. I suggest he put some color splashes under the black for a nice effect. He tries red, and it looks great. I accidentally smudge a brick, and he fixes it as I move away. We see that she also gets a cool circular entryway room that leads to the foyer. It is mirrored as well. As we mosey back into the lounge area the same lady comes back and says, "The dinner is ready to be plated. We will just all move over to the other room. Don't worry, I'll make sure you girls are in the court." (Meaning the Homecoming court.) We follow her out.
You don't always get to go straight to your room. And sometimes you have to go down to get up. Sometimes things aren't working like they should. Sometimes when you're being helpful, you mess something up at the same time. You can be excited for other people's blessings. And... even if the party starts before you get there, you may still hold a place of honor.
I'm sure I could look into the detail's symbolism too, but it's actually not raining right now, and my dog is staring at me like, "Please take me for a walk." We haven't been able to walk for nearly a week because of the rain. He walks on the treadmill, but it's just not the same.
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