What I must say this week is still in draft format, it still has to do with plastic and with the heavy desires we all seem to have not to be conscious about it…
So, instead, here is a dream in words that do not cease to please me, in beauty. A most astounding creation I wish I could build again in photography, in graphic design, and in film…and then add bits of feathers, colors and more alma…1
I remember that before the puppy and the wave came, I was examining dream structures intricate geometric rectangles and triangles carved in stone and wood.2
The puppy and the wave
- a dream
We are gliding over the lake. I thought that we were going to hug the coast more, but you are steering the small canoe by the mild winds, slightly to the left, slowly to the center, to the core. I can still see my known shores to the right, but we are almost in the middle of the waters now, moving steadily. I am not afraid. I am curious, trailing the water with my fingers.
Sea birds fly by us, we are entering an expanse of brilliant flat crystal waters, I have some worries about the shoals ahead, where I watch the sea birds congregate to fish.
You stop and run happily into the shallows. I step out tentatively, walking into the slippery firm greenish ground offered, step by step.
Then,
we see the puppy, a white beagle wagging his tail when we get there! I think fleetingly is he alone here? In the middle of this endless water, is no one here, there is no caretaker for the puppy in the middle of these waters, this empty land? But the thought disappears, and I smile with you and with him, so very happy,
sensing the bare presence of the other, inside the cave, maybe the caretaker?
As I turn to the right, a small ripple across the water starts to form, a wave builds and builds, larger and larger. I am not prepared. Can we run away? Can I run from it, or can I dive in and jump it, like we do with waves in the ocean, and come out of it at the other side, out of the water and into the air to breathe again? No, I know there is no escape. I cannot jump through it, like I did before.
I am calm and I wait in place as the wave builds above us, ever so beautifully slow, forming a dome of spreading brilliant multicolored sparkles, white silver water that envelops us completely. From right to left, from ocean to shore. With the brilliancy of transparencies and of blessings.
in awe.
Oxford May 12, 2023
“alma” is Portuguese for soul. It inhabits all, as “alma”. As soul, though, it tends to ask for permission to inhabit in other languages?… In the first level of oracle searches, alma shows up as a baby name, as a female giver of nourishment… not as a provider, mind you… the spirit provides, the soul nourishes? Wow! Provisions and nourishment, divisions of labor? Are we back here, to this level of non-transcendent life?
I have discovered the magnificent drawings of Saul Steinberg this month, on Facebook, of all places! He draws some similar structures in my dreams! Saul Steinberg (1914–1999), The New Yorker, 1957.
Sounds like transcendence. Or what happens when happiness takes over. Maybe those are one and the same?
What happened to the puppy?