River 18
Lee
The Mysterious Gift 1992

~~~~~~dream~~~~~~

I’m contemplating the branches of a silver ash, through a window overlooking the street below. It’s a dull grey autumn-into-winter day. Seated at a round oak table, Miss Venables regards me curiously.

‘For next time paint me some pictures,’ she says, ‘so I can puzzle out where you’re going.’

In my mind’s eye, I see two small paintings. One is of a brilliant yellow and orange sunset. A silhouetted figure with a bundle and a dog is setting out along a roadway between tall poplars. Though ethereal, it’s evocative of Van Gogh. The second reflects rays of white light from a crescent moon against a violet-blue sky turning indigo. I think of Vincent’s ‘Starry Night’. In the forefront, on either side, great plane trees with sturdy trunks spread forth shimmering multi-coloured leaves to shelter the path.

As I’m imagining transferring these visions to paper for my next visit to Miss Venables, I become the figure leaning against the wooden fence-rail, staring at the moon, my dog Wolf-Moon by my side. It seems somehow appropriate that I’m wearing a black dress and veil. My tabby cat rubs against my legs, miaowing, beseeching me to follow her, which I do. The path stops abruptly at the cemetery. Someone steps out from behind a tombstone, startling me. Fear dissipates when I recognise Brad, dressed in his Edwardian wedding suit and white shirt and lace jabot. As if in benedictory gesture, he cups his hands over mine, then releases something. I’m bewildered as there doesn’t seem to be anything there.

‘That’s right,’ he murmurs. ‘It’s everything and nothing!’

Smiling enigmatically, he bids me farewell and vanishes into the depths of cemetery.

I understand he expects me to choose my dream, finding joy in the process rather than the results.

Time passes....

I have joined an art class at a church hall. One day I get there early to find a man with unruly hair, already working at his easel. He looks like a well-known painter whose identity eludes me.

‘It’s the best time! Before the others get here,’ he asserts heartily. ‘This way, you can initiate your own project.’

He splashes paint about his canvas with such gusto I feel intimidated so I seclude myself on the other side of the room.

Eventually, I gravitate towards him as his lively observations whet my curiosity. ‘I find painting in the presence of others rather daunting,’ I venture. ‘You actually see to enjoy it!’

‘Of course! It adds a dimension of spontaneity and decision because it forces something else to emerge.’

I watch him dabbling pale pinky-gold and vermilion splotches across long green stems, creating a field of bright living poppies swaying in the wind. Again, I think of Van Gogh. Such self-assurance! If only I could absorb some of it.

Afterwards, he leads me into an old shed with a long passage way. It’s rather dark and haunted-looking, though light streams in at the other end. Forgetting my companion, I wander through the first doorway into a store-room containing art materials. To my amazement, Brad is sorting out some paints. He suggests I look in the cupboard where I discover a brand of paints I’m not familiar with. They seem luminescent, which prompts me to say:

‘I fear my talent isn’t quite up to the quality of these paints! I’d probably just waste them at present. Maybe in six to twelve months....’

‘Stop putting yourself down!’, he admonishes. ‘Just try them. You might surprise yourself! Fear of not being good enough stops the flow of your imagination. Just do it! Think about what I’ve said. You’ll realise I’m right!’

He walks out the door.

I follow the light to a charming garden full of red poppies and a pond with water-lilies.

Opposite is a reception room crowded with advertising people. I slip amongst colleagues talking shop but can contribute nothing. Some are sipping a strange, turbid concoction. When another round arrives, I’m by-passed.

I decide to return to the garden. It really is time to accept the message and move on.

~~~~~~

Who says it’s the end of a relationship when someone dies? My husband Brad, a creative director, died several years ago, but he visits me in dreams to help me unfold artistically.

I was working as a freelance fashion artist, sometimes doing illustrations for advertising agencies, but mostly working for one designer who was very demanding. A few years before, I had cut my right index finger very badly, severing nerves. The damage was irreparable, making it more difficult for me to cope with fine, detailed artwork and to meet deadlines which are always a problem in advertising and the fashion industry. I was also developing more spiritual interests which led to more dissatisfaction with commercially orientated work which didn’t allow me to express my creativity as I desired.

A few months prior to the dream I’d been in hospital for a short while with a couple of cancer scares and, prior to that, an operation to try to restore full use of my index finger.

There had been plenty of stress in Lee’s life, leading up to ‘The Mysterious Gift’.

The death of my first husband was a big shock. He had a serious disease, but he used to say ‘I’ll still be playing my pop records at 80’, so I used to comfort myself by thinking he’d be around for a long time. There were so many things left unsaid. I sort of felt guilty afterwards that I hadn’t seen it coming. (He died suddenly of a heart attack.) But we still carry on in dreams where we left off, so it doesn’t seem so bad.

Added to all of this, all Lee’s savings were lost because of the collapse of a large financial institution.

It’s been taking me some time to learn to understand what my dreams are trying to tell me. I started taking them more seriously when I failed to interpret one correctly in time! It was about pirates throwing people to the sharks. Shortly afterwards, the financial institution with whom I had my savings collapsed, so I lost my money. Afterwards I kicked myself for not having acted upon the warning, which now seemed so obvious!

Lee’s dreams and contemplations had been giving her the same message for a long time, encouraging her towards her yearnings to work as a fine artist rather than as a commercial illustrator. In her waking life, her head told her she was untrained and should stay in her commercial career in order to continue earning something. Despite her dreams and the feelings of her heart and soul, Lee felt a lack of confidence in her ability to follow the artistic path.

In preparation for a possible change, Lee started doing a few art classes here and there and felt she was building up to the right choice when ‘The Mysterious Gift’ arrived to give her the confidence she required to make the move a reality.

‘The Mysterious Gift’ was very convincing because my first husband was urging me to follow my own path. In real life I haven’t had much support or encouragement from people close to me. They might think I’ve got the ability to do what I want but they’re usually so involved in their own interests and problems that I come off second best. Most of the time my family and friends don’t have the critical understanding or expertise to help me with my work.

My first husband was very helpful though, with art techniques in advertising, because we worked in the same area. In life he was sometimes enigmatic, with a clipped sense of humour, and could sound authoritarian, so his dream character was true to form in a more evolved sense. It seemed like now he was more in tune with my deeper needs and approved and encouraged them. There was a sense of urgency to get on with following my proper path, since he died quite young, at forty-one. The other thing which stood out in both dreams was the vividness of the paintings and the passion of the master. I woke up feeling exhilarated, like I could do that too, if I’d get over being so damned timid!

The overall effect was that Lee felt more settled that her choice of career change was right for her. There was a sense of confirmation and support from dream characters and art masters that was barely present in her waking life. ‘The Mysterious Gift’, once absorbed, was put into action:

I decided to stop doing commercial fashion art. The recession made this decision easier because it was in short supply and with regard to the designer mentioned, I was able to do less and less work for him as his daughter became more involved in the business. In the end I said no to further offers of work because I started to get involved in personal projects. I’m still only in the early stage of transition. It’s very difficult because of the Pyramid Building Society collapse and the consequent loss of my savings. I haven’t been able to get started again financially. There have also been family problems and lack of work space as our house is very small. So there is still a lot of sorting out to do.

Although Lee is feeling the financial pinch of branching out in a different direction and still has some amount of family matters to handle to help smooth her path, she is confident that her personal reasons for making this major change in her life will ultimately secure inner fulfilment. I know that I have to do my own brand of creative work or I’ll never be happy or at peace with myself. The worst part is that in order to do this I have gone onto unemployment benefits. It’s tempting to try to find work in my old field but I know I’d just get on the treadmill again and resent it. Now that I’m getting older, the future in advertising or fashion isn’t likely to be promising unless I have enough money to set up my own business. My intuition tells me this is the right time to make the change, though it will probably be a very slow, gradual process getting established in an alternative art career.

Meanwhile Lee’s dreams continue to inspire her and light the way ahead, or warn her and prompt her into action whenever she moves away from her creativity.

If I have lapses where I don’t attempt anything creative, I have very troubling dreams where I get attacked by a snake, usually biting my right hand. I’m sure it tries to wake me up and get me moving. My other interest is writing and I have similar dreams about pursuing this as a career too. I seem to be meant to pursue art and writing simultaneously but I don’t know how to find enough time!

Lee’s dreams continue to uncover the reasons why she tends to hold herself back, or lack confidence, while encouraging her to ‘just do it’. It seems appropriate to finish her story with one of her own: another instalment from her inspirational dream life:

A New Self 1993

~~~~~~dream~~~~~~

I awaken with a flash of recognition. On the surface it may not look much, but I know I’ve just had a very important dream. I must sit up and take notice, recall every little detail - weigh its significance, then act upon it...

Pinpricks of bright colour like Aboriginal paintings dance and disperse before my eyes, making me feel inebriated. Something seems to come before me and replace me. I struggle to rise from my sick-bed which is little more than a mattress on the floor in communal living quarters of the kind I have come to know only too well since my children adopted alternative lifestyles - often invading my own space. My ability to move is restricted because I’m wearing my mother’s heavy black serge coat with a tightly fitting belt and long flowing skirt - a stylish Dior look-alike from her heyday in the fifties. In the eighties I fished it out of her wardrobe and now my daughter borrows it too.

Suddenly my father appears, to help me. He hands me a large, light grey overcoat which is simple, practical, well-tailored and loose. It looks similar to Michael’s (my second husband - I love to sneak my husband’s coat from time to time). My father wants me to change into this new garment, which I do. The sensation of freedom makes me feel like flying! A vaguely familiar panorama opens before me: a vast green lawn with botanic gardens in the distance and pale blue sky above. The air smells fresh and fragrant, and carries the sound of bird-song. My father ushers me forward to be spirited across to the other side. In no time, we’re approaching an impressive, modern, glass-fronted building with wide concrete steps leading to the entrance. It reminds me of the Union Hall at my old university. My father stops at the low colonnaded wall dividing the lawn from the pavement.

‘Well, this is as far as I go’, he declares. Looking pensive, he adds, ‘I’ve been accused of holding you back. So, now it’s up to you!’

I remember all the arguments and fights we used to have whenever I tried to follow either an artistic or academic course, and realise that this is his awkward way of saying ‘Go with my blessing’. I hesitate, glancing back. I don’t want to lose the sense of expansiveness. It makes me feel strong.

‘Go on!,’ he exhorts. ‘Don’t hang around admiring the view!’

Looking ahead, I spot my husband near the doorway of this substantial building. He smiles and my mind hears him pronounce ‘Courage!’ in the French manner that touches my soul. I hurry to greet him, pleased that he’s there to offer support as I enter those portals to a new beginning.

I wake up knowing that it’s time to do something I’ve always wanted to do. To go within and write.

~~~~~~

Jane’s Interpretation

Lee’s story, the result of combining two dreams, needs no interpretation. Apart from the obvious messages between all the quote marks, I love the way the painting of the poppy field becomes an actual garden of poppies which Lee chooses instead of the strange nourishment/medicine the advertising world was providing. The vision in the painter’s eye became first a painting and then a living, breathing reality. We also have the power to create our personal reality.

Although Lee’s story closely follows her original two dreams, an enlightening interpretation technique is to take several of your most prominent dream characters, settings and themes, combine them in some way, and write a fresh story or play about them. The idea is to let each character speak and interact with the other characters and settings, and then just let the plot develop on its own. It doesn’t matter if the story or play goes off at a tangent to the dreams after a while. You will certainly learn something about yourself and your life in the process.