Lucid dream with psychic nature

A seaside town. Bright puffy clouds in a blue sky

bubbly colors everywhere, people’s clothes, the paint on the houses and shops

I go in the van

I wade through a subway river filled with fish that leap at me

Emerge, realize it’s a dream, begin flying. soar up into the clouds and all around until i drop into the subway again due to a split second of self doubt and somewhat lose some lucid ability to do as i please

dream continues with me partially lucid

some friends and i gather in a house. maya is there, seems to be manic

i go to an art festival in a convention hall and collect artwork, looking for pieces that might inspire my friends. someone gifts me an ink drawing of a crow, not realistic, framed with black cloth. i obtain some pretty sparkling embroidery threads

i go back to the van to organize the art and find some of my older artwork tucked away. drawn to a thing i made in this dream wold which is a 3d unicursal hexagram shaped  object with paintings all around it, baphomet in a meadow type thing on one side. the painting is on a foldable wooden structure about nine feet tall standing on the ground. i consider that i must take pictures of all my work so i can finally make that dang website

…then Angel wakes me up, saying chi needs my credit card to fund a site host! i tell hymn i only consent if the server can hold multiple websites so i can make my art site. 🙂

 

 

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Kink, Graffiti, and a Rabid Dog

My university has morphed to the size of a national park. I am running through nature in search of a secret hideout I have made to hide from my irl ex-lover Paul. In flight I ponder my mixed feelings for the kinky sex we share. On one hand, I fear and loathe having certain boundaries crossed by him. Yet despite leaving him several times, I still seek his particular brand of sexual pain. With him I experience a sense of utter surrender that I have found nowhere else in my life.

He finds me in the forest. I lay with him for a little bit….


I have painted something on a lecture hall chalkboard in the middle of the night. Later, I am confronted by Anya, one of my art professors, who very calmly asks me if I did it. She seems to be implying that it has been well received and people are curious to find the creator. I stand silent before her, weighing in one hand the prospect of fame-filled career and the other, the freedom of certain anonymity.

In real life, I have left university for about a month now, where I have been studying art. Instead of completing my final class required for the completion of my degree – not an art class, but a general ed requirement to be taken over the summer- I have run off with a stranger who offered me a life on the road. I have been living/loving in the desert for the past few weeks and we are now traveling north, having reached a major city in the northern area of my state. The person I have been traveling with espouses an artistic life that doesn’t revolve around commercialization and self-promotion as well as feeding into my life-long desire to live off the grid.


I go for a walk outside the van. A caramel colored little poodle is hunched over a carcass of some sort, eating.. i stop, and it turns to look at me  with. It’s eyes are rabid. A moment passes, then it leaps on me and sinks in its teeth. I try to shake it off but can’t so I start screaming in attempt to scare it off.

In real life, I start screaming so Angel wakes me up. I don’t think I have ever screamed myself into waking reality before, which is something quite common for my father, who my mother and I frequently saved from rocky dreams.