"Too Much Blood Under The Water"

I have one painting done for my show in August, and many more to go.
I had a dream last night that is begging to be painted... and so it shall be.

I had a great time at church this morning. One of my favorite speakers came and he always lights a fire under my butt. He asked us to close our eyes and think of the biggest thing God could accomplish in you this year...a miracle... a goal. I had a big thought, it did not involve art, but just a message that I want to get out there. Instantly after the prayer was over my dream from last night flooded in my mind with a piece of the puzzle of the message I long to deliver. I had not even thought of using the dream painting show as a way to get the message out there... but sure enough, my dream last night, though very personal, fit right into the message.
The dream involved me and my BF from college, Ramin. He is Iranian, a Muslim by birth. I have tried calling him, writing him, etc. for two years now with no response. In my dream on a bridge, I asked him why he wouldn't hang out with me anymore, and he said, "there's too much blood under the water". I hugged him tightly and told him I loved him anyway.
There was more to the dream... like my mom walking near Ramin, but also unable to speak to him before I went to talk with him. Me sitting with my friends Vanessa and Michelle at a restaurant while my mom told me to go talk to Ramin. And before all of that me on a tram with my friend Rachel. But the only words I remember and the most profound part of the dream was on the bridge, so that is what I'll paint.

My painting will be Ramin and I on a bridge, fantasy style with a layer of water, and then blood under the water... with symbolism of Iran/Islam, and Israel/Judaism + Christianity in the blood. It'll be powerful I think. It's far bigger than Ramin not talking to me. It's the entire Middle-east conflict pictured in our interaction.
Makes me teary.

Unwanted Visitors

Last night I had a "visitor". I have been a victim of horrible nightmares in my past while I was leading a ministry. It was at that time that I started reading about dreams. I found that some people believe that demons can influence our dreams, and some believe that demonic nightmares are God getting us ready to deal with demons in real life. I have decided I stand in the first camp. Mainly because when I wake up and tell them to go away in the name of Jesus... they do. Anyway, through the years I have programmed myself to wake up the minute I realize that I am dealing with a spirit. Some times I feel heaviness on my chest, and other times it's just the imagery that alerts me to their presence. Last night my dream started going south when my sister's pale decapitated head was laying by my pool. The image didn't go with my dream at all. (I think it is true that they cannot see our thoughts, so they just have to hope the imagery that they whisper to us "fits".) Well, it didn't fit, and I recognized it immediately. In the dream I told myself, "that is not there, look again". I looked and it was gone. Then I felt my breath being sucked from my face. (I was on my side, so no heaviness on my chest... but I have never experienced this sucking sensation before, so it was a bit scary.) I felt a little like Harry Potter encountering a dementor. I woke up immediately and started to pray. In 2 or 3 minutes I was back to sleep and all was well.
I only bring it up to say... if you experience demonic nightmares, don't hesitate to insist that they leave. At His name all powers must submit. Program yourself to wake up to intrusions just by simple self talk before bed. After all our sub-conscious is still very much a part of our mind.

"Upstream"

Well, it has begun.
I have officially started my first "dream painting".
I actually started three yesterday and trashed the first two.
My husband encouraged me that I can't expect to get this right on the first try. I've never done it before... It may take time. I shouldn't assume that the first one I do will actually go into the show in August.
So I cut myself some slack and started another one thinking that it may end up in the trash too.
The painting I'm working on today is a dream from two days ago.

The dream went like this:
My friend Olivia and I were in an elevator trying to get to the 5th floor. There were digital clock type things sitting on pedestals around the elevator. Each one displayed the #5 in some way. I kept pushing the #5 on all the various screens and buttons, but we never went anywhere. At one point we pushed 7 accidentally (because the numbers on the clocks changed)and went to the 7th floor, but we stayed in and tried to push 5 again. The time was moving so slowly that Olivia started to deal with a lady behind a bank desk about her house mortgage (all inside the elevator). Finally we got out at the lobby which was a huge room like at a train station/mall with white marble floors with black tiles interspersed. Ahead of us down a long grand hall was a man dressed like a guard of some sort with another man in a trench coat standing/floating above his head. I announced to Olivia that the man on the guard's head was an angel. We saw the grand staircase to our left and decided to use it to get to the 5th floor.
As I walked up the stairway I was no longer with Olivia. My dad was with me. The stairway was now outside and it zigzagged like a typical outdoor stairway with gaps between the stairs. To the left of the stairs was a waterfall. At each landing the waterfall had a small pool about 4-5 feet long, just like the landing. There were coy fish swimming up the waterfall like salmon going upstream. At one of the landings I stopped to rub the scales of one of the coy, soothing it, trying to let it rest. Then I let it go again. At the next section of stairs I noticed that a red nose pit bull was swimming upstream. She was trying her hardest to make it out of the waterfall, but just like the coy, she was going up, not down. I knelt by the side of the small pool and pulled her out of the water. Then, pit bull by my side, we made our way up to the 5th floor. In the room, the dog rested. I was thinking about the pit bull's energy level and how she must be so used to swimming all day that she may be too high energy for someone like me. She was all muscle. There was no fat on her body, and you could see her ribs. At least for now, she was tired and would be resting for a long time. The scene changed and I was now bringing my new dog secretly down the back stairs (metal, like a fire escape, but not like a ladder) to go to the bathroom out back by the dumpsters. I found an old chain and a bike lock and made a leash out of it. I also found a small contraption that looked like a shower head from an old motel. At the bottom of the stairs on our way back up an old janitor stopped us and asked about the dog and the chain. He claimed that the chain was his and of course that I was not supposed to have that dog. He asked for the shower head contraption. It was supposed to tell the history of what it belonged to... in this case, the dog. I was scared that it would show that the dog belonged in the fountain, doomed to struggle all of her life. But instead, as he opened the top, by turning it half a turn to the right, it just let out a shot of air, no history. I was free to go and take the dog with me... though I did give back the old chain and bicycle lock to the janitor.

As I was painting just now, I was overwhelmed by the emotion that I had seeing this poor pit bull swimming upstream. God gently whispered that He too cared about the mistreatment of the pitties around the US. Pit bulls and their mistreatment is a subject near and dear to my heart, because my baby, my precious 4 year old dog, is a pit bull. He is brindled and beautiful. It breaks my heart that pit bulls around the country are being killed because of breed legislation. Others are being fought, others are just misunderstood and feared. The dream was obviously about the struggle that pit bulls face, but what about the rest of the dream?
Well... the coy also swimming upstream speak to me of my other friend Barbara. She has coy fish that will let you pet them (well, they let her pet them). She is dealing with an "upstream" battle now, and though I'm no real help, I can provide a small rest.
The part with Olivia in the elevator is dealing with her wanting to get to a place of redemption. 5 is the number of grace, redemption, provision, and the like. We tried and tried to get there in the elevator. She even took time to go to the bank while waiting. But in the end we had to climb stairs. The easy way was put on pedestals... but it didn't work for us. As we charted our course in the grand hall we saw a guard with an angel. I had to point this out, it wasn't obvious to Olivia... but it was comforting, and it was inspiring. It sent us on our way. Now why she wasn't with me on the stairs I think is just a break in the story of the dream. I didn't need to dream about Olivia anymore because MY part with her was done... Now I was on my own stair climbing journey. My dad being with me, was just a picture of God with me, helping me to help my friend, and the pit bulls.
The old chain and the back stairs to the dumpster were symbolic of me just using trash to care for the pitties. I don't "DO" anything. I just post about them on facebook, and say nice things about them to people. There is no real sacrifice on my part. The fact that no history showed up from the "shower head contraption" speaks of a clean slate. God's perfect plan for these dogs is to not have a stereotype attached, no prejudices. I'm left with the question, now what? What do I do with that?
Well... at 12:00 I'm heading over to play a game with Barbara and her daughters.
My husband just yesterday asked which charities I would like to give to. I have never given anything substantial to a non-Christian charity, but I think this year I will be helping the pitties in a bigger way.
As for Olivia, I'm not sure I need to do anything. I'll have to talk to her and see how it's going. ;-)

Dream Art

Eureka! I've hit the mother-load.
After my long silence I did some praying, and was a bit overwhelmed with the response.
I knew God was doing something, but I wasn't sure what.
I had promised to write down my dreams (as you can see from the last post), at least in my own journal, if not on here. Well, I didn't. I'd wake up after a night full of dreams and say, "those were silly, obviously just about a TV show, or about some random thing I saw yesterday", so I would dismiss them as unworthy of being written down. Then I had a dream one morning that I fully intended to write down, but the minute my head left the pillow, it was gone. This happened for a few days and then they disappeared completely for a couple days.
I'm no dummy, I knew it was God's way of saying, "who says YOU get to pick which ones are worth writing down? Didn't you ask for dreams, and I gave them to you?" That night I had my husband pray with me for me my dreams to return, and I promised I would write them down... again. This time I kept my promise, and so did God. I had four dreams that night, and I've had four every night since.
I have written to you before about the importance of three in one night.
Well, here I am having four each night, and thinking, "OK, what's THAT about?" So I asked.
It's about creative abundance. The number 4 (biblically speaking)is about God's creation.
Four elements: earth, air, fire, and water.
Four directions: north, south, east, and west.
Four divisions of a day: morning, noon, evening, and night.
Four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter.
(There are lots of other 4's, but you get the picture)
Me having four dreams each night just showed me that God gives us over and above what we ask for, and that creativity is meant to play a role with my dreams.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned on here before my thought of doing paintings about my dreams. It has always felt overwhelming to me. Dreams are so BIG visually, and seem impossible to capture. I know I can't make paintings of exactly what I see at night, but it occurred to me after much thought, that the message of the dream is what's important, so If I can capture that, then yes I can paint my dreams. The idea of painting my dreams has been glaring me in the face all week with the mass amounts of dreams I've been having.
God knows that I do not work well without a little pressure of a deadline, so on Wednesday when I went to pick up my art from our Swell Sister group art show, I asked about the owner's offer to have a show of my own some time in 2012.
I am happy to report that I now have the deadline of a show looming in my future... in August 2012. I will be creating (hopefully) a whole show's worth of dream paintings. Of course I'll keep you posted on which dreams I paint and how that's going.
I will, most likely, start with all new dreams, as they are in abundance these days. But if by chance I have a dry spell, I will look back over old dreams too.
Just in case you have any favorites from the blog, let me know, and I'll see if a painting pops into my head. :-)

Conviction

Once again, I'm writing with an apology to myself and others that it has been SO long since my last post.
Once again, I have let my dreams go unwritten,and neglected.
In my bible study this morning (along with two other incidences this week) I have been reminded that gifts left idle are not honoring God in any way.
A few weeks ago I began reading a book about "seeing" into the Spiritual realm. I haven't gotten very far, because I haven't taken it very seriously. I was very excited about the book at first, and then when I didn't do the daily "exercises" the first two days (due to not having the right atmosphere for the exercises at that exact moment), I quit. I haven't picked up the book but once since.
As you know, I have always had dreams (some with significant meaning, some with out), but I got a little jealous of those who can see spiritual things in plain day, and I wanted that gift as well. (It's no sin to desire greater gifts BTW, but often we have what we have because we are not ready for more.)
I have a walking partner whom I've been telling all of this to, and she confided in me that she would not want to ask for such a gift as being able to see the spiritual realm, due to the possible "freaky" factor. Funny thing is, since we had that conversation and I desired such a gift and she adamantly did not, she has had instances of seeing, and I have not. I have however, had more dreams in the past few weeks than I have had in the few months prior.
Each day I wake up (and sometimes at multiple times during the night) with a very interesting and vivid dream. Yet I have not written ANY down. Yesterday, on our walk, we re-hashed the "seeing" conversation, and she suggested keeping my dream journal and a small light by my bed (instead of in the bathroom where I have it now). Just so I don't have an excuse. I didn't do it last night. I had three dreams last night. Only one that I now partially remember, and I did not write any down. I chose to sleep instead. (I slept in... til 8:00.)
My bible study this morning was based on 2 Timothy 1:6-7. It clearly said to me, "The gift that you are letting be idle, stir it up. You have the power and the sound mind to use it. Quit asking for more when you're not using what I've given you." Conviction. Big time.

I can't guarantee that I will write all my dreams on this blog like I once had in mind to do. But I will put my journal by my bed, and I will write the ones that God tells me to share here on the blog.

I'm a Good Mom

After numerous days of bad dreams, I finally had some good ones.

The only bad one you haven't heard about since my last post was me with a bunch of teen girls (friends of my daughter), having a sleep over in which 4 or 5 guys were trying to sneak in through the windows and kill us. No fun!

So last night when I had three dreams all about the same pleasant topic, I was greatly relieved.
In the first dream, which I don't remember much, my mom's mom, "Nanny", was telling me I was a good mom. In the last dream I had, which I don't remember much either, my dad's mom, "Grandma", was telling me I was a good mom.
In the middle dream, which I remember quite well, an older Hispanic lady was telling me that my husband and I were doing a good job at parenting.
You may recall that three dreams in one night all with the same "message" means that it's a definite. Like if you had three dreams that your house was on fire, in the same night... I'd get some insurance, or go to counseling if you feel the "fire" is symbolic.

The second dream in it's entirety was as follows:
My family and I were coming into a large hotel room and having all kinds of family fun frolicking on the bed wrestling, telling stories, and getting back rubs. At some point an older Hispanic lady came in. I walked around the place shutting doors and windows and getting ready for bed. We all slept on the same bed... even the older lady. Then as we woke up, we sat on the bed and talked. I looked around the room only to find that we were in a huge open room with tons of beds lined up side to side, like you'd imagine an orphanage or war hospital. (No bunk beds). One by one people started waking up from their beds and grabbing their bags and leaving. I immediately had two thoughts; one was "oh no, our talking must have disturbed them... I didn't know they were there", and the second thought was a revelation about what kind of place this was. It was for people who worked in the city and could not commute home each night, so they stayed in this old Laundromat that had been turned into a shelter. The people didn't use the small bathroom that was at the shelter because there was only one and they could get ready (even leaving with messy hair in yesterday's clothes) at work. We had somehow stayed there without that being our story. As people were leaving, a lady cried out in a panic. Her stuff had been moved and her friend was not in her usual bed. It turned out that her friend was the older lady that had slept with us. Our lady ran over to the panicked lady and calmed her down, handing her her stuff and saying that she had been there the whole time etc.
I went over to make sure things were OK, and that is when the older Hispanic lady gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that my husband and I were doing a good job at parenting. I was very happy, and a peace flooded my heart.

Mice in the Kitchen, Forgotten Son, and Stuck Car.

It's been a while, I know.
My excuse (though not a good one) is that it's summer, and I have been sleeping in. I wake up so late that I don't feel like I have any time to spend typing.

For the past two nights, however, my dreams have been bad and pointed, so I thought I'd take a minute to write them down since I woke up a little early this morning.

Sunday night I had a dream that there were mice in my grandmother's kitchen. As you may remember I consider my grandmother the source of my family's spiritual legacy. When I dream of her house it is always a mansion, and typically very full. Sunday night's dream was no exception. The house was open and grand, with room for hundreds of people. I had been wandering around the first floor of the house, and came into the kitchen. There I found my dog nosing at the cabinets. I looked closer and he was killing a mouse. The mouse had on clothes (like Stuart Little). As I stood there, another mouse appeared and then another. All were dressed, but unwelcome just the same. I killed a few, and my husband killed a few. We were squishing them, halving them... whatever we could do to kill them.
As you know, the kitchen is the heart of the home, and mice are typically considered pests. I have been praying for my grandmother ever since as she has battled cancer and other ailments in the past, and her health is not the greatest even now. I can't think of any other meaning than disease in her "heart", (whether it be literal, or something like worry).

Last night's dreams were disturbing for other reasons.
In the first, I left my son alone in a crowded place, and in the second I could not get to my car.

The first dream began with my son and I walking through a flea market type environment. He was picking up all kinds of things that he wanted... mostly sweet treats, like popsicles. I showed him an area of gallons of ice cream and we talked about getting one even though we are both on a diet. (The diet was talked about repeatedly in the dream.) After we had gotten all the things he wanted I told him I would meet him back at the car and we would drive "home". I went out a back way through a warehouse guided by a worker who was hitting on me. I had four pen caps in my hand and then my back pocket. (Don't know what that was about.) When I got to the car I forgot to wait for my son. I instead drove all the way to the hotel/cabin, where my husband and daughter were already there and asleep. I went to bed, and fell asleep too. When I rolled over a little while later it dawned on me that I had forgotten my son. I panicked, and stumbled to the car still half asleep. I thought about the fact that I was too sleepy to drive. Then I thought about my phone battery. I looked down to see multiple missed calls from my son and even a very sad picture he had taken of himself. I also saw that my battery was in the red zone. I panicked more. Oh no! How am I going to get a hold of him? How is he going to call me? I ran back into the cabin to get my husband's phone, all the while thinking "what if my son's battery is almost dead?" I woke myself up with all the panic.

I went back to sleep after a quick pee brake. The next dream was better, but still bad.
I was with my two best friends from high school; we had been at some event and were now walking back to my car. We got to the parking garage and could not find my car. Then we found a hole in the back of the car garage down to another level of cars. I could see my car on the lower level. The cars were crammed together like sardines with absolutely no room to drive them out. There wasn't even a ramp to get them out of the hole. I jumped down the hole onto the hood of another car and walked around on car hoods to see if I could figure out something. Realizing that this was a towing company I deducted that the cars had been lowered down with a crane. So my friends and I went to find the owner. I found a worker sitting in a shack out in a dusty yard, feet up, talking on the phone. I asked if he could help me. He was very rude and denied me help. He mentioned the owner, pointed him out, and said he was busy too. No one would be able to help us. It was extremely frustrating. The dream ended in frustration after minutes of trying to get the owner's attention.

Meanings? Well, I think that the diet talk and the fact that all of our purchases were food items not on our diet, speaks to what the dream with my son was about. I have nearly reached my goal weight and my days of dieting will soon be over... or so I hope. (Even the worker hitting on me speaks of where I'm at in my weight.) My son is just now starting his weight loss journey (this time around). I think that the dream is reminding me not to leave him behind. Not to go back and "sleep" with my skinny daughter and husband. The world offers many temptations that I can't just say, "that's not on our diet, but just this once we could get it"; (which are the kinds of things I was saying in the dream).

Personal cars in dreams typically speak about your personal life. I don't particularly like the idea of my life stuck underground without having the ways and means of getting it out myself. I do like that my best friends are with me the whole time. I really don't have other thoughts about the meaning of that dream.