I don't usually remember my dreams. This past week I've had 3 that I can remember. They started on Sunday or Monday and ended on Friday.
My past life had been rather difficult.
My first marriage had failed. I felt totally destroyed.
I was in a state of deep depression for over 3 years. I was a single mom with 2 young children.
I'll save that story for another time,
The image of me seems to be in the past. My being is in the present and I’m watching myself like an out of body experience.
In my dreams, I'm always alone but not lonely. No any connection with anyone. Not the kind of alone that is poor, pitiful me. I'm just there. I have no fear.
I’m in Colorado, but I don't know where in Colorado.
I’m dressed in shabby clothes, a heavy flannel shirt. I can’t tell what color the shirt is. It’s all faded and blue jeans.
The first dream happened either Sunday or Monday.
In the dream, I’m standing in a canal. There’s light above the canal similar to moonlight.
When I look up I can’t see the top of the walls.
The walls are stone and the floor is something kind of like slate. I’m standing in a little bit of water.
In front of me is a tall barred, iron gate. It towers above me. I’m 5’3 “. It’s at least twice my height.
There may have been a heavy rain somewhere in the distance. Water starts slowly coming in through the gate. It’s beginning to cover feet.
I run to the iron gate.
I clench my hands tightly around the cold, rough iron bars. I’m pushing hard against the gate as though I’m trying the hold back the water that is now covering my feet.
I wake up.
The second dream occurred a day or two later.
I’m in a fancy restaurant, dressed in my shabby clothes. The restaurant is bright and beautiful.
Beautiful crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, sending sparkling light into the huge dining room.
The tables were covered with white linen tablecloths. Fine china was placed expertly on every table. The silverware was shining on the table and linen napkins in ornate silver rings.
Seated at the tables were zombies in dark suits (really, zombies). Strangely enough, they didn’t have any heads.
The headless zombie waiters were dressed in black suits and ties and crisp white shirts.
Even without their heads, there was activity but the room was eerily quiet.
No one noticed me so I walked out.
I wind up in a dirty house. My surroundings are in disarray.
Dirty dishes are stacked in the sink to the ceiling. Clothes that were fresh from washing are starting to get a mildew smell.
Clothes that hadn’t been worn for weeks are in a heap on the floor.
Boxes are piled everywhere.
No one had been there in quite awhile.
The house is a mess.
The floors look as though they hadn't been scrubbed in a long time. There’s residue on the floors from something spilled. streaks of black dirt line the floor as someone walked through the spills and dust that had accumulated on everything from who knows how long.
I run my finger along a table in the kitchen. It was as though I was moving my finger through fine sand in a sandbox, with the sand piling up on either side as I moved my finger.
Next I found myself in a disgusting bathroom.
Dirt on the sink, crud in the bowl. The toilet, ewwe, it was awful. And the bathtub had gone from white to dark grey.
I started cleaning the tub with a scrubby. I pushed as hard as I could to get the grime off. The scrubby didn’t move the at all. It was like the dirt was imbedded into the tub.
There were some people in the house sitting in the living room. I asked them to help me clean. They stared blankly at me for a moment, then, turned away.
I walked out of the house, the sun was shining brightly. I headed down to Burger King. It didn’t seem t beo very far from the house. I do like Burger King better than McDonald’s.
I ordered some food from the drive-thru.
The guy handed me my food and said "There's an iquana on the garbage can."
I looked over to the garbage can.
There was a 2 foot long, grey-green iguana, with spikes running down its spine, looking straight at me.
I woke up after that.
The dream I had on Friday night, I was still dressed in shabby clothes. I was alone.
I knew I was an artist. I wasn’t painting or anything. I just knew I was an artist,
I was in a building or big house.
The place was in an orderly mess. Like when you’re getting ready to move. Lots of boxes stacked neatly on the floor, clothes neatly piled on the furniture.
I started walking through the house. I enter into a dimly lit office.
The office was small. There were papers and folders on top of an antique, roll top desk. There were bookshelves on all the walls. Each shelf was filled to capacity.
I left the small office and walked up a wide, spiral staircase. It was black metal.
Turning to my right I saw what looked like a bedroom. This room was different from the other rooms.
It was large, brightly lit and empty. The walls were painted white. The floors were shiny, like they were heavily varnished.
I looked around the room for a moment, then, walked into a room across the hall.
In this room was a young woman, looking down, packing a box. I must have known her because I asked why she was moving. She was talking but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
After that, I found myself on the spiral staircase again. I went into a room that appeared to be an old hospital room.
There were several wooden tables and chairs with a young man sitting at one getting an IV. He looked up at me and smiled,
The other tables were vacant. For whatever reason, I started jumping across the tables.
I ended up where I had started-back in the small dimly lit office.
There chair was a big, overstuffed office chair in the small office. It was brown leather and had cracked from age. I sunk deeply into the chair. I kept saying to myself “I’m going somewhere, but I don’t know where.
It wasn’t there when I first entered the room at the beginning of my dream.
The next thing I see is me in a long fur coat. The coat is white with dark, horizontal stripes on the body of the coat and vertical stripes on the sleeves. The coat reaches to my ankles. It’s soft and warm. I pull the collar tight around my face.
I find myself outside in the dark, in a snow storm.
It’s snowing really hard. Big fluffy flakes are falling from dark sky. It’s starting to accumulate on the ground.
As I trudge over the Rocky Mountains. I pull my coat collar closer to my face. I feel the cold heavy snowflakes as fall from the sky.
It’s starting to snow harder. With the darkness of the and the snow falling harder, I can't see more than 2 feet in front of me.
It’s getting really deep. I slide my feet through the snow. It’s getting too deep to take steps.
I keep saying to myself “I’m going somewhere, but I don’t know where.”
I wake up.
This is the first time I’m there, in my dreams, as an observer watching what I’m doing. And I have no fear.
Saturday night I fell asleep easily and had no dreams. I woke up Sunday morning and I hadn’t dreamt. I was like-Wow!
Some people believe dreams are reminders of the past, pleasures and anxieties of the present or quick glimpses into the future.
Since having these dreams my mind hasn’t been full of thoughts. Ideas running through my head so fast, I can't keep up with them.
Today my mind is peaceful. Only the words I’m writing are flowing.
What a good feelng.
Could my dreams be an indicator of 3 chapters in my life, going from horrible, to not so bad, to the promise of the future?
What do you think?
Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.
Today I woke this morning feeling a bit blue..kinda off my game.
When I view art or create a painting, several things need to happen. Whether viewing art or purchasing art, this will help you.
*******HOW TO BUY ORIGINAL ARTWORK*******
1) When you look at a painting, do you see dark moodiness or do you see romance and mystery, wondering what is in the dark shadows?
2) Does the artwork take you on a journey into the forests,over the mountains or to a romantic interlude where anything is possible?
3) Does it mystify the senses with the smell of fresh coffee, the taste of a glass of wine or feeling the misty rain against your face?
Art is getting emersed in emotion. Leaving the everyday and experiencing the wonder of your imagination. Art will take you many places. You are the captain of this adventure.
If you find VALUE in this, please SHARE this post and LEAVE a comment.
I started this painting with something else in mind. Sometimes the paint takes me on a journey and I have to go where it leads me. The paint led me to here. Sometimes when I paint, the painting moves me emotionally and I have to put my thoughts into words. This is one of those paintings. Here is the poem:
No One Comes
By Sallie L. Wysocki
No one comes to visit anymore. Everyone busy with
their lives. It's lonely here for me.
No one comes or calls.
Another day of sitting alone, waiting for time to pass.
I don't feel like leaving the house.
I'm afraid being here alone. The nights are so long.
Memories of family sometimes ease the pain.
I wish some one would care.
It's getting dark outside, Still no one comes.
I'm hungry but food doesn't taste good when you eat by yourself.
I look in the mirror. I don't like what I see.
I look so old and tired.
Too much grey hair and too many wrinkles.
Is that why no one comes?
It's getting late. Time for bed.
Another night of restless sleep. I cry sometimes.
I miss the hugs and kisses. No one to say
I love you. Have I been forgotten?
The night passes so slowly. Will I die in my sleep?
Will anyone care?
This is my original work
This morning I was up early. I made myself a cup of coffee and went outside.
There was a frost covering the ground. As I looked around, I saw that the frost had covered everything, the table, the bench, the umbrella and even the metal sun hanging on the fence.
Everything was sparkling as though it had been sprinkled with diamond dust. I felt as though I were in a fantasy land where sprites and elves and pixies live.
Diamond dust glistening in the light of moon. I felt like dancing through the yard. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
I stayed outside for a short while longer in the aura of magical land created by the frost. Some much beauty in a drop of frozen water.
Next time the air is frosty and the moon is shining brightly, go outside and experience for yourself the beauty in a drop of frozen water.
Sometimes I take a break from painitng and write poetry, actually it's prose. I wrote this to my husband Ed. I called him my knight in shining armor. He said there were a few dents and the armor wasn't as shiny as it had once been. Even though the armor may shine like it used to he will always be my knight in shining armor.
My Grey Prince
By Sallie L. Wysocki
Sensitive, sweet, loving,kind, kisses of pure nectar,
My grey prince shines above all others.
No other has taken me to the places we have gone.
I knew you with a touch, my existence became yours.
I love you, my grey prince.
How can I tell of my love for you?
No words have been written to describe
A place so limitless there are no boundaries;
Emotions so deep, they know no end.
I am overflowing, never to hunger.
My tears of sorrow have transformed into tears of joy;
Sweet not bitter.
The wounds have healed, the scars are fading.
I realize that I am alive,
You brought me back.
I am happy.
How can I tell you?
I will show you my love.
Remember when your kids wanted you to read them a story. Such a nice time together. Sweet memories.
My granddaughter Veda, who is in the 4th grade, has a reading assignment to read 20 minutes a day. This is something rather new and the kids get rewarded for reading. Sometimes her teacher takes them out to dinner or they have a movie night at the school and some other really nice rewards after a grading period of reading.
One night Veda asked if she could read out loud for her 20 minutes. She's reading the Haunting of Sunshine Girl by Paige McKenzie. I said "Sure." That was the start of something really special.
Each night she stays with us, she reads her book outloud while I prepare dinner and after dinner while I do the dishes. Occasionally when it starts getting dark, we go outside, light a candle and she reads by the candle light. What better way to read a ghost story? All creepy and shadowy!!
Veda stops reading. We talk about what might happen next. There is excitement in her eyes as we toss around ideas. She starts reading again. The tension is thick as the story unfolds. Ah she was right. A big smile beams across her face.
She reads a chapter or two and has exceeded her 20 minutes. She's quite pleased with herself. The book is put away and we both can't wait to start another chapter tomorrow.
This is such a special time, me and Veda taking a journey into another place together. Something we may not have done if she didn't have to read 20 minutes a day.
Homework can be a good thing.
My husband Ed came home from school, totally spent. He's a substitute teacher and some days are rougher than others. A computer crash took most of the day and part of the evening to resolve. I have a bit of knowledge and thankfully I've been able to fix our computers when we have a problem.
We prepared dinner together as we shared what had been an exhausting day. Ed teaching 4 - 1 one hour classes and a home room or activity period with an average of 125 students during the day. And me, working on the computer, feeling like a zombie, my brain was fried. Although I think I had the better day. Dinner was ready and we sat down to enjoy our meal.
After dinner we relaxed in the living room. Oh the comfy couch, so inviting. We sat there for a while enjoying each other's company and laughing a bit. We had made it through the day relatively unscathed.
Ed left the living room a for a short time. When he returned, in his hands were two glasses of wine. He left again and came back with two chocolate brownies and two peanut butter cups on a single plate. We lifted our wine glasses and made a toast.
The lights were dim. Sitting closer we shared the bountiful snack. How thoughtful and romantic, glass of wine, a chocolate brownie and peanut butter cup.
An ordinary night had turned into something special. Just being together, aware of each other and sharing an intimate moment.
Always celebrate the ordinary nights.
Ah yes, it's election year. So many candidates, nationwide over 1900 !! Wow!! Makes your head spin. I didn't know that there were so many politcal parties.
This year my husband Ed and I attended Donald Trump's political rally here in Grand Junction Colorado. It was a beautiful day lots of sunshine and a cool breeze. We stood in line for 2 hours chatting with some of the people while waiting our turn to get in. Some people had been waiting since 4 am.
After going through the security checkpoint, we finally got to the outside hanger where he would be speaking. The event was held at Western Star Aviation. An estimated 7000 people were in attendance.
Everyone was anxiously waiting for his plane to arrive. There was a spirit of comradery. We weren't strangers. We were friends. Talking and laughing and discussing. Then in the distance we heard the roar of the jet engines as the plane taxied in for a landing.
We all waited holding our breath to catch the first glimpse of Donald Trump. Every time some one came down the plane steps you heard: " Is it him?" Then finally, Donald Trump emerged from the plane. The crowd started cheering and clapping.
There were cars parked by the plane to transport Mr. Trump to the main hanger. There were whispers:"Is he going to ride in the car?" "No, he's walking into the building!" The applause got louder the closer he got to the crowd.
Mr. Trump made his way through the crowd to the platform shaking hands with the people. He started speaking, the crowd grew silent. Shouts of approval went out after each important point. His voice was sincere and compassionate.
He spoke for about 45 minutes. After his speech, he walked back through the crowd shaking more hands. He waved to the people outside the hanger as he walked down the runway, not missing anyone. He turned to go to the plane. Walking up the steps, he stopped one last time to wave. Then he was gone into the plane.
Ed and I had a blast. Listening, talking and observing.
If you get the chance, go see some one. It's a great experience. In doing so, we too become a part of history.
Are you ready to become a part of history?
Early morning. My favorite time. The inky darkness surrounds me. The cool air touches my face. The thickness of the quiet envelopes my senses. So much peace and calm.
In the distance I hear the birds wakening. Their song to each other gently breaking the quiet. The neighbor's pet kitty steps softly through the grass and rubs against my foot. She jumps in my lap, purring as I caress her silky fur. We converse a few moments. She jumps down to go about her day.
I sit in the glow of my candle, watching the flicker, growing taller, stretching into the beautiful colors of the flame. Blue, shades of brown slipping into golden yellow. A rather hypnotic a flame moves to and fro, stretching and contracting.
The shadows are soft, not threatening. I reach for my coffee. The cup warms my hands as I bring it to my lips. The mist from the warm coffee releases the fragrance of the brew. Oh the first sip, pure delight. I sit for a while longer in the candle glow, lost in another time, another place.
One morning when you rise early from your sleep, I bid you to light a candle, sit in a comfy place outside and experience the candle glow.
Sallie Wysocki Art