Dreamways

OREN. Vision.  Driving home from Perry Park, after a work session with D, I saw Oren in my mind's eye. He was holding a long-bladed knife in his hand, that was dripping with bright red blood. Oren was looking at me with piercing eyes. Wordlessly he was telling me that if I do not accept the challenge of fully entering into relationship with him, that he will put me out of my misery. Unless I fully engage our Passion, he will put the knife to my throat, as an act of mercy.

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Sleep Dream. I’m in an old-fashioned feeling space that looks a bit like Relatively Wilde Bookstore, but seems to be a barbershop. I am in an old-fashioned barber’s chair, the middle one in a row of 3. They set up near the north wall, close to the big display window that looks out onto the sidewalk. It is sunny and light. There are three or four burly gay fellows with me. One, ruddy blond and furry, in a sleeveless green plaid shirt is behind my chair. There is an elegantly bearded, short, dark-haired fellow in the chair to my right.

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OREN.  I am reading Jeff Rapp’s newest tome, The Practice of Ally Work. It is interesting that how he describes the Ally and the relationship between the individual (the Partner) and the Ally is almost exactly as I have experienced my dance with Oren. The book is a great reminder to take this relationship seriously. Particularly the idea of my needing to make efforts to contact my Ally, that what I feed the relationship with is my giving Oren attention; this occurred to me several weeks ago.

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Sleep Dream.  I’m in a funky apartment. Perhaps a row-house affair, one story. It is cluttered in an artsy way. I‘m not certain why I’m here. It’s some sort of gathering. If a party, it’s not loud and boozy. Not a lot of people present, mostly, if not all, women, Kind of a Naropa-esque crowd. There is a woman there who reminds me of Inguna, but is rounder. Kind of like the hispana who organized the fashion show at Walnut Foundry. [D and I worked on the „Shooting Blanks“ script yesterday.] She is very warm and sincere when she talks to me.  read more »

I finished Taylor’s Where People Fly and Water Runs Uphill yesterday. A surprisingly good read. It fascinates me, how similar is the weaving of dreams and life that he sets out in the book to the views and explorations that I’ve woven together in my life. His interests and stances are surprisingly similar to my own. He quite unflinchingly addresses Good Questions. It feels like he is an Ally.  read more »

Dreamways work yesterday. Connie and I met with Gar chez moi. F took pictures of Connie and me, which we culled down to one of each of us to send to Gar for updating into our website. We also came up with short „these are my qualifications, this is my experience“ blurbs.  read more »

Sleep Dream.  I am with an attorney. He is a typically attired lawyer, wearing a traditional dark suit, light blue Oxford shirt, dark tie. He has short, sandy hair. ( Perhaps he looks like the prosecuting attorney for the Allen trial that I did not get empaneled for.) Medium height, average build, squarish face. He is quite savvy, in the know. Rather talkative and animated. He has a twinkle in his eye. He is talking that he most defnintely wants to help me with my Project, that he knows exactly what needs to be done, that it will be a piece of cake, for me not to worry.  read more »

Piektdienas pēcpusdiena. Saulains. Mazliet vējains. Šur tur pa debesīm izkaisīti plakani mākoņu blāzmo. Šorīt, kamēr sēdēju kantorī gaidīdams klienta ierašanos, mani apciemoja Orens. Viņš vispār pēdējā laikā itin bieži mana prāta acij parādās. Vienmēr kails, vienalga, kur mēs atrodamies. Skaisti, dzīvi, kaislīgi pliks. Viņa baltādainais augums vingrs, muskuļains, veikls. Šorīt domāju par to, ka viņš allaž ir izcili juteklīgs un seksuāls ar mani. Dvēselisks un iejūtīgs – un seksuāls. Šorīt jutos ievainots un ievainojams.  read more »

A wonderful DVD last night, Swimming Upstream, with Judy Davis and Geoffrey Rush. Set in 1950’s, 1960’s Australia. A blue collar family headed by Rush and Davis, with four sons, one daughter. The second-to-eldest son, Tony, is a very sensitive, artsy, non-violent kid, who Dad clearly and increasingly does not like, It turns out that Tony is a good backstroke swimmer. Dad starts training him and next youngest brother, John, as swimmers. But Dad always favors John, ignoring any and all of Tony’s successes.

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Sleep Dream.   I am in Riga. Old Town. I’ve gone into a Latvian crafts store, similar to, but smaller than "Stallis.“ I am the only customer in the store. As I look around, on top of a glass-topped display case I see a lovely hand-made blank book. A chocolate toned, hand tooled leather cover. A bit narrower than this journal, but an inch of two thicker, wIth a fine white paper. I admire its beauty, its crafsmanship, its Latvian design. I pick it up.

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