Dreamed l989/1/10
I go to the house of a man who has a boy child. While I am there, more and more people of all ages arrive. He seems to be a very central figure for a lot of people. There are ritual aspects to what is going on--food, objects, etc. The house gets quite full.
Then I hear my name called, clearly, from outside. I go out, but no one is there. I notice a pile of young plants--corn, maybe. Some of them are attached to human skulls that look like they've just been dug up. I think I will plant a row of them. I select plants with and without skulls, and arrange a row, laying the plants out on the ground. But I keep moving the row. I should put earth around them, planting them properly, but I'm not sure if I do (didn't recall when I woke).
Later, I am back in the house. I look out into the yard; someone else has arranged a few of these human skull plants on a wall or ledge. I feel uncomfortable, as if this is working with demonic forces. I have the sense that the man's house is around the corner on Minoru St., like the Alta and Dena house (near where I grew up).
THE RITUAL RACE
Dreamed June 28, 1989
A young boy I know is doing a kind of weird ritual race. He comes to the starting, lights a match, leaps up, runs down to the ending--leaps up, turns, comes back down to the start. His match is still supposed to be lit, but his went out. I mention that he didn’t do it great, but he’ll probably do it better next time. NOTES
The Dream Institute (1672 University Ave., Berkeley, California) has been home to dream oriented events for the past 12 years. Art shows, films, lectures, seminars, dream groups and performances are all part of the wide range of offerings. For me, the most meaningful aspect has been Culture Dreaming, now called Deep Dreaming, a contemplative group experience of dream sharing which becomes a spiritual practice. Many of the co-created narratives that arise from this process have been presented as dream plays.
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Above photos: me at the Dream Institute in a papier-maché mask inspired by Place of Sprouting Corn.
For comparison with the painting, the photo to the right (of a megalithic tomb in West Kennet) comes from “The Realm of the Great Goddess,” by Sibylle von Cles-Reden, which I purchased in 1963 while working at the Princeton University Bookstore. Both the text and the photos were a revelation and made a deep impression, especially the megalithic structures, the plastered skull from Jericho (over 8,000 years old), and the Maltese Hypogeum. When traveling to Malta in l998 and l999, I was able to enter some of these soul-stirring sacred sites. (Radiant Light (the Hypogeum) and Circle of Life Renewing (Hagar Qim) are paintings based on such sites.)
The theme of going underground, the Descent to the Underworld, became important to me in doing shamanic work and also in understanding and valuing the role of depression in my life.
The silhouette of the upside-down little girl in the background of the painting stands for my childhood sadness and pain.
Even as an adult, I have sometimes been overwhelmed by depression--a few times lasting several months, but usually of shorter duration. Often the shortening days at the onset of winter would bring intense feelings of sadness and worthlessness. I’ve tried to give a form to these states through art and have also tried to find a way to view them as meaningful.
Seeing depressions as a way to depart from the normal patterns of my life, to withdraw and turn inward in order to find and bring back new qualities or insights (a Jungian attitude) was sometimes helpful. Even more helpful was to see them as a shamanic descent into the underworld, where dismemberment may take place before reintegration can happen. After working with dreams and their symbols for many years, such episodes seem to have slowly abated.