Dreams and Calendars

Tired.  I got to work on two of the four inch paintings today.  It went fairly well.  I think I need to make the bugs a little more prominent.  After all, they're the reason why the tomatoes are getting revenge!

I painted for several hours, beginning around 9:30 or so.  No wonder I was ready to take a nap around 3:30, which is exactly what I did while a storm came in.  I only slept for about fifteen minutes but it was interesting.  I had one of those rare dreams where I knew I wasn't too far asleep and I was talking to someone.  I don't remember who or what was being said this time but I felt calm and fairly peaceful when I woke.  I had the feeling that I had gotten some good encouragement somehow. 

It was somewhat like the dream I had not long after Granny died.  We hadn't gotten along in a long while but in this dream, we settled things.  Like today's dream, I don't remember much about what was said.  I do remember very clearly standing in the kitchen, like we always did.  I was leaning against the stove, cup of tea in hand.  She was making biscuits and we finished our conversation before she got out her 'biscuit cutter,' which was a small, old tin can with both ends cut out.  It was like those tins blueberries used to come in with the blueberry pancake mix. 
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Lammas is coming up on August 1, or Lughnasadh, if you prefer.  I really need to find something more meaningful to me.  I've stuck with this Celtic calendar...for convenience, I suppose, or laziness.  I have tried over the years to make peace with it (no one can call me a quitter) but it just doesn't resonate with me.  I may come from a line of farmers - two! - but I'm not one.  No matter how it's dressed up, it's still an agrarian calendar.  Outside of Samhain and Yule, it just doesn't cut it. 

Plus, it's a Celtic thing.  I come from Celtic stock but the calendar and mythology just doesn't resonate either.  According to the origins of my last name, there may also be Anglo Saxon as well too but a lot of that leaves me cold too. 

I do love Egyptian mythology but I'm not sure of the calendar.  It seems to be lunar based or something because it doesn't seem to be like Western calendars and the holidays wander.  I need to look into that.  Maybe. 

I know, I need to just get off my ass and figure this out.  Of course, now that the month and NaJoWriMo is nearly over, that's when I finally start getting down to the heart of things.   

Panthers and mysteries

Once, a long time ago, Gods roamed the land.  They claimed the sky worlds and they stalked the Underworld.  The Sun, Moon, Morning Star and the Thunderers kept the stability and order while the creative, fertile, yet chaotic forces charged up from the Underworld from the Corn Mother and beings like the underwater panther.  We humans lived in a liminal place - the Middle world, full of beings in its own right: Hawk, the Horned Serpent, and the spirits of plants, trees, and rocks.

Of course, as a Pagan, I know this is still true.  Gods and spirits abound.   

I had a dream not long after I moved into this house.  I was walking on a high bank along a shallow creek on a bright sunny day.  I was fascinated by the water - it was so clear, I had no trouble seeing each and every rock on the bottom as if I held them in my hands.  Suddenly, I saw something moving beneath the water, a mountain lion.  I was seeing the top of its head and back, even though the water was only a few inches deep.   It stalked along the creek bottom until suddenly it launched itself straight up and right at me.  Its claws and teeth missed me by mere inches as I jerked backwards in surprise and it fell back into the creek bed.  This was no flesh and blood feline.  It was composed entirely of water.

The underwater panther is a figure from a group of peoples archeologists once called the South Eastern Ceremonial Complex.  They were also moundbuilders.  In some surviving stories from later peoples, it is said that a meeting with such a being will either heal you or kill you.  I'm not sure what that says about mine.  I only know that I had never heard about any such things before the dream.  The dream was so vivid and I could hear the sound of the water as it rippled through the bed as well the crash it made as when the cat fell back into the creek.  Was it just a dream?  I'm not so sure.  It is something I still ponder to this day. 

I had intended to write about some of the deities I work with today but sometimes, the muse has other ideas.  I asked myself if this fulfills the prompt for this week: "an opportunity for you to share with everyone those who guide, inspire and inform you."  I'm not entirely sure it does, not in the strict deity/divine way.  Still, sometimes it's the mystery of a thing that is the inspiration.  No one ever started out on a quest because they had all the answers.    

A Dream Fragment

I am at home in Bethpage, in the living room. The room looks like it did in the late 70's/early 80's and it is well lighted. At least one lamp is on, casting a warm yellow glow around the area yet most of the room is lit by white, midday sunlight. I am watching an adaption of a Neil Gaiman book on TV and I am loving it. 

  My mom is here as well. We are watching one segment of the show and I get excited. I know they are about to show Dream but I start almost yelling, "Oh my god! Death! They're going to show Death!" Then there He is - Dream. Instead of the 'adult' Dream, they show a young one. 

During a commercial break, we talk about the show and she asks, "Have you ever seen him?" I know she means Neil. I say that yes, I have seen photos of him. She makes a face of disgust and implies that she did not like his looks. I say, "Oh yeah!" but I can't find the words to say exactly why I like him.

 The show comes back from break. Now I am a part of the story instead of an observer. One of the characters has to do some kind of ritual. One part is to wash something in hot water, which she does with no problem. Next, the ritual calls to bathe the something in cold water that has been carried in three baskets, a small red one and a medium white one and a large white one. None of them are not water tight in the least. I am the one who has to figure out how to do it. I am in a kitchen that exists both inside a building and outside. Against one wall is a steel sink with a wooden island across from it. I pull my copy of the book out of my pocket (I don't know the name of it but it is not an existing book in waking life) to see how it is done. I am trying to fill in a steel sink the baskets when I wake up.

Sketches and potential paintings...maybe.

This has been a month for getting images on paper that I've been struggling with for ages. The exceptions are the unicorns but even they came out better than they have in the past.

Click for a bigger image.


I remember the dream this faery appeared in, even though it was back in the '90's. She lived near a streambed and I, along with two others, had to repair it after it had been damaged. I never knew what happened to the streambed, just that she thought we had done it. I remember thinking I had to watch my p's and q's because she could actually kill us if we accidentally insulted her. We managed to fix the stream to her satisfaction. Thank the gods - even if she didn't kill us, I wouldn't want to be whacked with that stick.


This is another dream image that has stuck with me. I remember dreaming I was on an island when two unicorns came trotting out of the water. I love how the horn isn't in the usual place. Here, I just played with the idea of a mare and colt, especially how the colt's horn would be just starting to grow.


I'm going to have to refine this one for a painting, if only for myself. It's another idea I've played with for a few years and just couldn't get it to work.

I like the little one with her eyes shut tight. I imagine her sounding a little like Ike from South Park: "Oh no...." I also like the farmer just waving away, like flying through the air over an alien landscape is an everyday thing. He may even be yelling, "Hello! Nice night, isn't it?!"

Throwing fits

There are a few paintings that have given me absolute fits lately. Here’s the 4’x2’ King of the Fits:

I don’t know exactly why this thing is giving me such fits. I like the corner those two donuts are in on the left. I also like the pool of glaze on the right. Excuse that big blob of ochre on the right and that thing in the bottom center – I was trying to get something going.

Those were some great donuts though.

Another painting that gave me fits is Instant Ancestor#1:

I think I’ve got what I need to finish it now. Part of my problem with this painting was its cuteness. It’s almost too cute. So yesterday, while I was raking leaves for the garden, part of her story came to me.

“Her ‘pet’ (it can’t be pronounced by our tongue) is the reigning Grand Champion as well as currently standing at number one in its class. He has killed 243 of its competitors, surpassing his Grand Champion dam, who could only claim 130.”

Now, this isn’t at all like dog fighting. Nope, not at all. It is more like Westminster...well, okay – Westmonster. She’s so proud, isn’t she?

(Which reminds me: I should clean the story off the front door where I wrote it on the glass with a china pencil, although it would be interesting to see the faces of people who come up…)

Here are a few more ideas for Instant Ancestors:


Yes, beside the “normal” guy, it says “The black sheep – we don’t talk about him.”

One more:

I played with the anatomy of this satyr (well, that sounds wrong.) I like the idea of the horns and the tail but it makes more sense to me to use the front legs of a goat. They are a little more analogous to the legs of a human. I don’t know but I like this guy.

Here’s a doodle of Bast on part of a 3”x5” card. I keep trying to end our little cat fight.


I couldn’t pass this one up. I don’t know exactly how I’m going to use it but what imagery. You should be able to read it by clicking on the picture.

…and one more. I read a story a while back that had a crow who just happened to also be a parson. I’m still playing with it but here are a few things so far:



Yes, that is a comic book. You can’t expect a Trickster like Crow to actually pay attention during a ceremony, can you? I don’t know about the girl yet. I think I’ll work on her a bit – or get rid of her entirely. Who knows?