Dreamways

The past few days have seen me quite involved with HOA stuff. The Board has dealt with the fact that items have been stolen from the storage rooms and that there is evidence of someone hanging out in the basement, smoking. The response to these disturbing events has involved lots of emails and an emergency board meeting Wednesday. Arranging the logistics to get back door locks changed and keys out to owners and residents has involved chunks of time. And then will come evaluating bids for a security system for the building.

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Thursday night. I spent the entire afternoon transcribing my previous journal into Word documents. It is a fascinating process, again, to so closely review my writings and the thoughts and events they describe. Transcribing allows me to rather carefully look at each and every word I’ve recorded, not quickly skimming over them, as I can easily do when I just read. It felt very grounding to perform this exercise. It is a recapturing of those internal and external events. In the process, I recognize some patterns before not noticed, remember certain events already forgotten.  read more »

Sleep Dream.  D and Lar are visiting a version of the Elati house. I’m showing them around, Lar never having seem the place. He is not at all critical or dismissive, as I’d imagined he might be. Instead, he seems to be really interested in the place, what I’ve done to it. He even offers suggestions.

Dream Associations.  The feeling of the dream was one that I knew from the Joneses: the uncomfortable energies emanating from the male half of a couple. The man’s anger, jealousy and incomprehension directed at me.

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This road trip has left me filled with strong and clean energies. Such an amazing sinking-in of the insight, that, truly, Home for me is not about attaching to any one particular space and clinging to it. This is the Zaiga paradigm, whereby NO space on the face of the planet can be related to in a loving fashion, since Home is defined as 1930’s Latvia. The Irony of her doing everything in her power to prevent me from taking root in the U.S., and in so doing, she replicated upon me what the Powers That She Loathed did to her. Except that I was NEVER allowed to take root.

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South Lake Tahoe, NV. Sitting in our Best Western motel room, Noam Chomsky is talking about the Iraq war on TV. I’ve never seen him “live”, nor have I ever heard him speak.

This trip has had a truly magical quality for me. I have been filled with the varying beauties of these western landscapes. Pulling out of SLC, the morning light of tender silver gave everything a heartbreaking clarity and lightness. The skies through most of Nevada were flocked with all sorts of clouds.

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Sleep Dream.  I’m at a Denver Latvian gathering. Like a party, lots of people. I’m a curiosity-filled outsider. Not angst-ridden about not fitting in, but fully realizing that I’m not part of this crowd. It seems that the party is taking place at 623 Elati. It appears that Varimants has bought the house. Randy J. makes eye contact with me and walks up. He is extremely friendly and effusive. His eyes sparkle. I realize that his hair has no gray, that it is a darker shade of reddish brown than I remember. “It is SO good to see you, after all these years!” he says.

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Sleep Dream.  I’m at the Elati block. As if in 623’s yard. There are no fences, so that Tori’s yard is visible and boundary-less, barrier-less. It’s a mellow sunned day. I walk across Mauro’s yard. St. Mark’s Eddie is in Tori’s yard. He now owns her house. He sees me and starts walking toward me. He looks worried, deeply concerned. Tori’s yard is all tilled soil, rich and dark, but with nothing planted or sprouting. I know that Eddie wants to pour out his heart about how incredibly difficult it is to create a home, to have a garden.  read more »

I watched the New Zealand movie Once Were Warriors last night. It had been a few years since I’d last seen it. As always, when repeatedly viewing a flick over the years, it is fascinating to note how I respond to the piece each time. This movie is very compelling for me, for numerous reasons. It has evoked huge emotional responses in me. Last night I was able to be more detached as I watched events unfold. Rather than be swept up and away by the story, I was able to observe both the structure of the movie and each character’s unfolding much more closely.  read more »

Sleep Dream.  I’m in the Springs, the neighborhood just south of Stratton, marked by Paseo Road. I’m moving from being out on the street, to inside a house, back and forth. The house, in that neighborhood, is Grāvele’s. I’m sitting next to the piano with Lana Linden’s mother. She is worked up about an upcoming recital. I tell her that I won’t be playing in it and she can’t believe it. “But you HAVE to play!” she declares, amazed. I’m bemused. “:No, I don’t,” I reply. Grāvele arrives. She asks if I’m working on recital pieces.  read more »

Vision.  I’m in Paseo Park. It is daytime. A golden sunlight caresses everything. I am standing, I am hovering. There are no people around. The streets are quiet, but the feeling is friendly, rather than ominous. I am across from Stratton, looking at the school. I look at the red brick apartments across from Stratton. I ponder what I’m seeing.

I’m at the Union Blvd. house, current and past, outside the house and inside. I look with what feels like true compassionate curiosity. My Heart opens up to this childhood geography.

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