Dreaming up Carnage
I have an appointment with a man to go over an idea for a sculpture I had. S. and I arrive there early and walk around looking at some of his things. S. gets really excited because she recognizes so many symbols to myths and legends buried in their bases.
The dream rips apart what we try to hold together. Why does it have to be so bloody? The imagination deforms what the personality holds dear. Carnage imagery in dreams is the first step towards soul making.
Each sculpture turns out to be very powerful as if evoking and provoking the gods with what it reveals of the god's powers. Both of us are shook by his audacity and walk outside to discuss this out of his earshot. There we find more and these I can really feel, because they are in nature and right beside or aimed at what he deplores or has strong feelings about. Going back to see him and he is laying prone on the floor working on the face of a clock.
T.(therapist) bangs through the back door rolling a cart loaded with what he is going to present and angry with putting up with the inadequacy of this building. Extension cord caught in the door. Medieval seeming pieces of heavy metal and wood, as if parts of torture devices taken apart, rearranged and welded together again. Recognizable to the original purpose. But this time grinding up, stretching, torturing the gods.
The apple of some divinity unknown to me half buried in the concrete of the base and other familiar warm symbols like Christ reaching out his hands to the little children. Child parts oozing out, ragged and ripped but the benevolence is still preposterously there, guillotines, and stocks.
We go outside for relief and these images are less graphic, more puzzling. Flesh of an animal, hatchet lying loose on top of it, floating as if a lily in a pond in a blood bath rather than a bird bath, and an open fire.
An offering to the fire, a sacrifice of what we treasure most but do not realize we are sacrificing: time, tranquility, and creativity. F/48:10.25.94
Standing, watching a succession of people laying in a bathtub. Each one of them is covered in dark almost black blood.
See this dream as a prototype for the process of a woman who is committed to her dream work, her soul work. Follow the dream text through its stages. So much could be said about the clarity and accuracy of this material that I need to stop and trust you to see into its mystery.
They each struggle to climb out of the tub screaming horrifically as they realize they are in the blood bath. I observe it all with the thought that I too went through the realization. M/24:12.8.96
I am standing near a toilet ripping off all of my flesh until I am completely without skin. F/17:1986
Any questions here? This dream launches into the depths without details. This artist is doomed to the agony and ecstacy of creativity.
This image is from a series of dreams when she was teenager. They were a combination of half visions and half dreams as she awoke. Once when she was awake and standing by the sink in her bathroom she looked down at her thumb and all the flesh was ripped off. She is getting down to the bone.