As I write this, it’s Dec. 21, 2015, Winter Solstice Eve, the darkest night of the year. In the following video I share my very first recorded dream. It’s very fitting that it featured my animus as an attractive, seductive man who wanted to enlighten me about love.
Recently a reader asked this question: “If a woman performs the function of being an artist’s ‘muse’ and if the artist believes (to paraphrase Joseph Campbell in ‘The White Goddess”) that ‘she is a representative of the goddess deconstructing and remaking him’ then where does muse/anima begin and end?” I wasn’t exactly sure I understood […]
In my experience, every dream contains information about the dreamer’s unconscious self. Which is exactly why it’s so difficult for us to figure out what our own dreams mean! Moreover, no matter what we may think we may know about someone else, we have no idea what’s going on in their inner universe, and it’s not only inappropriate, but unhelpful to assume we do.
Last weekend I was telling some house guests about how my golden retriever Bear woke me up at night with his booming bark several times after he died. When I was finished, the husband nodded with solemn knowing and shared his story.
Lately I’ve been thinking and writing a lot about nature. I’m starting to wonder why. I do have kind of a “thing” about nature. Always have, I guess. For the first 12 years of my life I loved playing outdoors. One of my favorite haunts was a secret “cave” under a trinity of palm trees beside the back alley. I’d hide there under thick palmettos, savoring the shade and enjoying not being seen by the occasional passer-by.
Last weekend I was telling some house guests about how my golden retriever Bear woke me up at night with his booming bark several times after he died. When I was finished, the husband nodded with gentle knowing and shared his story.