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Messages - Monica

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Dream Interpretation / Re: a cloak made of rats
« on: October 25, 2017, 03:50:43 AM »
Hi! First I have to say sorry because it took so much time for me to answer. In fact I wanted to take the time necessary to give a serious answer, for it's really difficult to explain such experiences with words. As the acting on-your-dreams post says, the dream itself is an experience that goes beyond what language can explain, because it's more ancient than thoughts and words. And it's also connected with all our system of perceptions, our relationship with our world (and universe) more than a system of thinking or interpreting. I'd like to synthesize my experience with dreams, that I feel strongly connected with since I was a child, so please let me first explain a little where this idea of the performance came from. I would try to explain this in three parts, as the action itself, the images it brought about, and the origin of those images as dreams fixated in my mind.

In my childhood I suffered from some illnesses that caused me kind of delirious states of mind. I remember particularly a dream I had that I link with those states on which there was a man standing in the midst of a dry meadow, just in front of a white sheet that seems to be hanging from nowhere, subtly moving with a psychedelic ripple, full of colors that at some point resemble flesh. It seems an eternity, that tall and thin man dressing in a way that looks like from the beginning of the 20th century, standing still in front of the flesh blanket as if it was some sort of "passage" to a place he'll not enter, nor return. It's almost as if time had met the place where it cannot be anymore. He doesn't look but to the blanket, the only thing that "moves", as the grass and sun and wind in that landscape seem to be paralyzed. I don't really know why this dream's been fixated in my mind since so long, besides the fact that I probably dreamt that in a delirious state. The curious first connection I found with your post, that I read like almost two years ago, was the fact that in this dream I can see the paradigm of acting out a vision, and the "screen" thing. So I began to explore with this like a sort of screenplay.

Before I had tried to do it using drawings, or even more "perceptual" translations, but it seemed futile because they ended up being mere representations. Then I became familiar with the artistic work of performance, that has more to do with "presenting" something. Even when it's related with the acting thing, it goes beyond, so I thought it could be way more productive than just try to repeat what a dream was showing me. I decided to work with this particular dream because it's become like the cornerstone of my curiosity about my own dreams. In the meantime I began to be more aware of all the wonderful information that my dreams could give to me, that was wider and larger than what I could describe with words. The complex nature of dreams made me thought about searching for and connecting with the things that are prior to language, a world of sounds, colors, free of the common explanations.

Then I began to understand better the dual ways we are immersed in, and the need of integration that dreams show so wonderfully. The first artistic approach I made with this dream was using video and sound (in an amateur way, because that's not my field). I had three elements that were fundamental (like you explain in "being the object or person") and the body itself, the person that appeared on that dream. That fitted perfectly to the concept I was developing about my way to perform -my performances are related to common and/or unusual actions that I try to transform in spiritual experiences through the appreciation and awareness of time, our own bodies, the ritual qualities of action that we pursue as humans in our need to expand and integrate (as in dreams). So I had that in this dream I was a place, a person and an object that enveloped, confronted and exhausted each other all at once. There was the wall of the Arts building where I used to take naps between classes, and it became my favorite place to perform and my study object also. So, after lots of revealing dreams and experiences "dreaming" on that wall, it became like a part of me. One day I made a video on which I was there, sleeping against that wall, so I could understand how it was to be there, the perspective of the camera showing me as part of that wall, and in that sense -an outer experience of my body. What happened when I was there with my eyes closed, in the inner "silence" of that experience, as the camera couldn't tell of my thoughts or even of the things that were out of its range in that still position.

After that I worked in a class project where I acted out some other dreams that curiously were in fact about performances, so I just had to reenact them as exactly as I could in real life. The symbolic part was of course the one that kept me thinking there had to be a more precise, more meaningful way. One of the projects was me being the door of the classroom where I began this journey (that for some reason became a painful one concerning my relationships) of discovery. I went back to painting because I considered I had enough material to begin a project with dreams and their nature with no need to just try to make a literal picture of what they were. The work involved color, materials that had a profound meaning for me, studying perceptions and postures related with "the impossible" and all the information I had collected with the performance stuff.

In the time of the project I had very vivid and intense dreams that kept me wondering and trying to explore more. The Bible was the source of unexhausting discernment because I've always thought that dreams are not just physiologic or psychological baggage, but also a way to connect, and bring to our waking life those visions. As you clearly say there's no point in just trying to figure out what an image could mean, we need to access that image, become one with it. The analogy you made with the icons in a computer was exactly what I had found in my own gathering of personal archives; now I had to work with them, to get where they were taking me. The association method was sure a very helpful and dependable one. But as much as we tend to theorize a lot we get lost, so I had to come back several times until I finally began to make just what the experience itself of dreaming and waking life was offering me, first on paintings, then in writing and developing my own performance script. And also as you recommend, I talked a lot about it so it could "flow" more easily, to grasp the intuitions and insights that come from the sharing of it. Also praying to God, because it's for me a form of higher communication on which you begin with words but as much as it gets deeper and more intimate it takes the forms of things that cannot be represented or explained, just sensed and expressed in ways that are beyond understanding but are real, they give you lots of energy and knowledge that's not intellectual.

Well, to get to the point where I hope to give a specific answer to your question (sorry but I get carried away when I talk about what I love), when I finally presented the whole project, in the same Arts building, I had a collection of paintings and a performance on which I'd bring back all those dream images. It was almost shocking to me how it looked like the very place of all my dreams put into "scene". But for some reason the performance was interrupted time and time again, as if it was something that was following a direction outside my own will. As the exhibition took place it was awesome to see how people connected with the work, as if they were entering my dream world for real; some of them even told me so, and children were the ones who showed me the power of experiencing the place taking active part on it. The day I had to speak about all my process and findings ocurred the first thing that seemed like an intro to the acting-on thing. I arrived earlier to have time to prepare, but then the door kept closed for no aparent reason; what was shocking about it was the fact that as in a dream the door didn't want to open even though the janitor had the key and tried a thousand others, and forced it also. Half an hour later it opened with a light push, as if a ghost was holding it in the other side and just released it then. This and all the continued interruptions to the performance kept me wondering when I could finally try.

And that time arrived the day that the exhibition closed; I had programmed the thing the day before, and asked some professors to assist, but basically I thought all of the things were telling me that this had to be a more intimate exercise, as much as it was connected with my own need to act my dream on and kind of giving a goodbye to the place I had spent so valuable times in. It was titled "wall, blanket, paper" and was slightly scripted as a dream I had almost a year ago, that I thought had a connection with the dream of the man in front of the blanket and was about three stages or sceneries that described the past, the "present" and the future of my relationship with that building, my experiences there. The dream showed more than ever the quality of a "screen" on which, in different planes and perspectives, it was shown first the back of the building surrounded by a cold blue atmosphere, similar to the one of the dream that I began this post with but not blurred, where a friend and myself were sitting in the greenest grass I've ever seen talking about a coral collar I had put on, saying it was a kind of spiritual shield, the same Jesus protecting me against evil. I talked to her about Jesus and the relationship with the thing and then the scenery became the screen I mentioned. Then I could see, orderly appearing, the very white wall in the back of the building, and superposed to it a paper with three written columns, as a mapping; first a kind of short written poem that I just take a rapid look at, "it's just a love poem" I think, and just get into the next image, which is a tomb with a stone table engraved with words that I don't read but "hear"; I remembered them exactly but for the time I woke up the words were almost erased, and I just kind of remembered the idea, a man telling something like -before I - (not so clear and then) -so there I knew I'd feel fear for real", sealing the sense of which was written on that stone. All with that violent white brightness of a computer screen shining against the dark in some memories, the images looking like those of a music app, and myself repeating that those words cannot be forgotten. There. Then an invisible and short paragraph (no more than four verses) that I'm really interested on, the one with the "revelation", that I won't be able to read. So for me it meant clearly the relationship past-present-future and the scenarios I wanted to re-create, the wall, the tomb (I took as sheet for the performance) and the paper, objects that also had a close relationship with the elements I was working in my drawings and paintings prior to make of them performance material.

Well, here I explain the performance and why it all was great but bewildering at the same time. After developing the writing process describing shortly the elements and small actions to define how it would take place, I decided just acting it on in a more natural, direct way, just as when we speak things out and describe them to someone else better than trying to add more objects and fictions to the moment as a usual performance would. I registered and walked the space between me and the wall so I could get really into it, not just thinking about the perspective and my position as a mere observer but taking conscience about how I could eventually get so into it that I'd finally feel at ease "being the very wall", with all its remembrances, messages and hopefully, revelations. I decided to reenact the dream of the man standing in front of the blanket but having in mind how this image splitted into so many ways in other dreams, like the one that took me to that moment, on which the wall was also the blanket (thought to cover a body in the material process), and written surface resembling paper, all of them in one. So I stood there in front of the wall taking every piece of those images back in my memory, but knowing that it was time to be aware of those things beyond depictions of any kind. I have to say that the wall for me carries a lot of meanings, not just from dreams but real life experiences, conversations and memories.
(I'll have to cut the message here)  :o

Dream Interpretation / Re: a cloak made of rats
« on: October 12, 2017, 03:36:11 PM »
I really appreciate the time you've spent in answering! It's wonderful, thank you very much! I sure have a lot of work to do. All your posts are great, I've read not just the dream interpretation but also articles which are very insightful. In fact some of them I've had in mind when working in a painting project that I ended just a couple of months ago. I was working with the images of dreams, trying to "unveil" them, maybe translate them into a more understandable language of perceptions, but at some point it was just like you said, it become the dream itself what I had to say, to re-enact, activate in some way... I've tried what is said in the post of acting on your dream as a performance, and was a wonderful, spiritual experience that left me both, amazed but also bewildered... I think a lot about bringing my experience in a way that can be helpful and valuable to others, to show the love of God and the spiritual connection that we all share like humans. I'm happy and grateful for my dreams and work and hope returning this grateful and loving feeling to people.
Thanks again for sharing your wisdom!

Dream Interpretation / a cloak made of rats
« on: October 06, 2017, 04:30:56 AM »
I've had a very curious dream that sort of continues one on which I'm the guest of honor in a feast, where a white dressed table is served with plenty of healty and luscious food; I recall specially that I'm offered to chose between little pieces of which appears to be white chocolate, but at the same time seem very small vases containing a clear liquor. They are all like tiny cups of some sort, white and adorned with light blue. I'm delighted of seeing them and all my friends, everything looks so nice and we talk and seem so happy. When I take a close look to the piece of chocolate I've chosen I realize it's a little figure resembling an elephant, beautifully worked and slightly painted with blue and gold; then I hold it and drink a toast to the harmony surrounding us. The table was located near the entrance of the building where I studied when at University, not so long ago. The dream was great even when the surroundings were like a blue fog all the time.

Then just one day after I had a dream where I was inside the same building, at the classroom where I presented my final work (to get my degree as an artist); it's late in the afternoon but the day is warm, and I look though the window hoping to see my friends; I'm there with a very dear friend, and he's with a girl that I don't know but happens to be his girlfriend in the dream; they are joining for a while but as time passes by, while I look at the door and then the window, they say they have to go. I realize I have a pinata, and feel discouraged because I feel noone will come this time, it's late, I think. I see the pinata imagining it, white and round, falling in the green pasture far below the classroom. I see chocolate again. They leave and I watch the white door closed. Then I find myself at another University that I attended long time ago. I'm alone but walking around I bump into some guy that asks me for help doing some maths; I say o.k. and then he tells me to meet him later at the stadium, because the courtyard where we used to go was closed. Next, as I walk to the meeting place, I think I don't really know how to solve any math problem, because it's been so long since I left studying engineering.

I enter a place that looks more as a subterranean training field, with lockers and a sort of racetrack where people are excercising. I don't know well what to do but find sort of easy to begin doing the same, I run around the track and feel at ease, then I begin to jump and feel fine. Then I notice it's a swimming training, but it's funny how there's no swimming pool at all; I feel it's o.k. because it's just an excercise. Almost at the end of the class I see the guy I was supposed to meet there but he's already found a girl who seems to know well how to deal with the math thing and I go without talking to him, a little bit frustrated by the fact.

Then I think I have to explain the trainer I'm not part of his team, but as I talk he begins to resemble the pastor of the church I attend, and he asks to me what I have in my backpack. I show him a notebook that is really a sort of dictionary. I open it and as we watch to the letters and the images he says -so is this what you'd like to do?- and I say yes, but it best describes my sister, with all the editing and illustration sort of thing, because she's a visual designer. Then I say -What I want to do are really big paintings... So I look at him again and he's become one of my art professors, one I respect and have a lot of appreciation for. He tells -then come and see this- and we walk trough what now seems to be a cave, but at the same time keeps the appearance of the corridors of the Arts building, and an old house I use to dream.

I see a few paintings made by other students and recall one of a clown that I felt I liked... Then we end up in the very center of the cave, high and filled with a strong daylight I don't know where it comes from. A man that I assume is the janitor is there hiding near the walls doing drugs. The professor says he should avoid doing that but we proceed, he approaches the walls and takes from a deep hole a thing that resembles a big scroll, made with a long cane or rod, longer than the length of a large window, and that serves to the purpose of holding a thing that seems like a curtain as well as a cloak; he shows the curious "dress" he's created telling me that he'll use it to make photos and to perform.

He extends it in front of his body, opening the fabric that is a white tulle, so I see it falls like a pair of bells, as the thing is cut in the middle. It's very long and heavy so he holds it with both of his arms. But the most curious, at some point horrifying thing, is that the other "material" the dress is made of are hundreds of white rats and their vomit (which he points at particularly), also white, looking like large and soft spots on the pieces of fabric. I'm not really aware of my own feelings at that point, because I'm very interested in the object, even iif I find it repulsive by moments. He says about publishing the photos and I say that then he must consider to put them in very good quality, because the "details" won't be seen if he doesn't. The rats are dead and I feel weird but fascinated, because it's an impressive object to see, tremendously beautiful as much as horrible to be faced with.

Dream Interpretation / lying in a bed covered in rice
« on: April 25, 2017, 03:22:08 AM »
Hi! Hope you'll have some time to read this, I've had this detailed dream but
didn't find the meaning of one of the symbols appearing, it was rice. Thanks
for the wonderful site, it's always been a great guide!

The dream as I recall it began in a chaos of coming in and leaving classrooms in search of the one I had a class at... It's obvious that I'm lost and won't  made it. Then I appear to be in a room we used to stay in the house that my family and I always went for vacation when I was a child, it's the house of our dear grandpa (he's dead). I'm lying somewhere near the window and recalling some story pertaining to the class I failed to assist. Then it happens to be that my two sisters are there also, we began to talk but I don't look at them as we speak, it looks like there's some sort of weird low wall in between us, so I can peep at them but not watch directly. They talk precisely about having taken a class, maybe the one I tried to attend unsuccesfully.

They comment they saw there a guy -with whom I had a really horrible relationship-, from which I ended being badly hurt. One of them knows him, but the other doesn't, so in the dream I ask myself what was the impression they really had on seeing him, and feel sort of fortunate not having taken that class. The one that doesn't know him tells that he's awful, and assures he has horrible hands, -the ones of a monster!- she says, securing something that only him and myself knowk for real, a conversation and a dream he wrote speaking to me about his mother saying something about his brother being dead as she touched his shoulder, and then him eating his fingers to the very bone. My sister keeps on speaking with disgust about him, emphasizing he's an ugly and vicious person, commenting he was speaking with other people on the class about making a false profile on some network to swindle women; I think to myself it's a shame having been involved with him, but at the same time in the dream I notice I don't really care too much; I feel relaxed, as nothing that he could do could affect me any more. I even laugh, always staring at the ceiling, and imagining him in the scenarios they're depicting me, in a very real way.

As my sister talks and sees my attitude she seems to try to get a reaction from me, and says that they've even seen his legs naked... I laugh and say -disgusting!- and then my other sister intervenes, serious and sort of worried, saying that the fact is that for what she saw I've also left something as a blow, or a kind of hurtful mark on him. I try to imagine what's she talking about, and then picture him as a human target, floating like some sort of vitruvian man in an invisible board, so I see his body frontal and entirely exposed, with a circle painted in black pointing around his navel; I assume that's the point where I left the "hurt", but she corrects me. At that moment I can't but feel real pleasure in the conversation, because it seems like a  kind of curious and revealing situation, as I lie there, resting in something that then I can see it's clearly a bed, covered in very white rice that I touch with my hands, where I make movements very similar to snow angels, my heart filled with secret delight.

I continue "imagining" what they explain to me, she continues saying I hit him not where I thought but in the back of his knees, and tries vainly naming the blows in a medical way, I think. The thing is just then I'm completely aware of the place I've been during the whole conversation (a bed entirely covered in rice), and that there's some very expected moment of truth coming from that image of the back of his knees, uncovered and looking black and inflamed there. I never watch at them directly as we talk during the dream, it's as if they're only their voices talking in the opposite half of the room (left) and the images I project as I stare above, no ceiling but those images. It's full daylight, even though in some moment of the dream I'm there but all alone in the dark, spying through the window to a man that looks like drunk and is throwing little stones to the window of the house in the front. For the rest the dream is consistently full of daylight, with a blue and greenish hue.  At some point of the dream I also appear trying to make as if I don't wanna hear any other thing about the guy they mention so persistently, so I sit looking directly through the window, trying not to pay attention to my sisters, drinking eagerly water from a bottle as I stare fixedly to a man out there, in a bike, trying to seem very interested on him.

And when the chatter slowly vanishes I keep recalling the odd story of two people that I heard about in the class I was supposed to assist but didn't, that even saw as the cover of a book, titled (as the names of the couple) "Invicto and Lynn". (Lin happened to be the way the mother of D, the boy the dream revolved around, called his brother). I was just asking God the night before how it could be that even though I had seriously forgiven him for all he did, and repented sincerely for what I DID, I still resent so much any little memory that slowly comes back to mind (The experience was so traumatic that I almost "blot" all of the memories of the time I shared with him for about two years... And now I began finally to recall. Guess this dream's all about that... and a lesson on "perspective".)

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