Lately I dream actively. Yesterday morning I woke up from an impressive dream that I meant to share, but have not yet been able to:
I am in a paper forest of beige, vivid reds and browns. Little greens, but it's extensive, magical and beautiful. I see a naked, beautiful and well built black man feeding off the carcass of a man or a student, I'm not sure. I didn't get a good look. I got scared, so I ran. It was really just us until other people started arriving to the college. For some reason, the scene shifts and I find myself in a large room of curiosities and projects.

The ex alumni of Ringling College [my college] were called back for a few additional projects at the design center. When I got there, one of my best teachers was handing out special projects to my friends and colleagues. He looked at me and said, "I've been trying to contact you, but I got no response." He seemed really annoyed. I shrugged my shoulders and then he showed us around.

There was an exhibit in the studio with projects and projects of students during the time we were gone. The projects were phenomenal. Paper models, actual sculptures, video projections and cool things I wish I had thought about when I was back in college. Suddenly I found myself in front of a curious sculpture. It was open, there were birds in it. They looked desperate, wings open in flight. They were caught on string that seemed to go through them. They were mahogany color and were not real but looked impressive still. I have no idea how the thread was so strong or how it went through the birds, but this is, after all, a dream. It seemed firm, as if it would not budge if you touched it.

Suddenly the birds come to life, tweeting madly and flapping their wings, flying here and there, but they can't escape the sculpture. I jump back in surprise and turn to look back around the room. Everyone is gone from the studio, and somehow, the naked black man is standing at the opposite side of the studio. He was staring at me. Nervous, I blitz towards the other side. There is a marsh there and a cyclone fence. Somehow, the studio exit I could take turned to the outdoor forest at the start of the dream. The marsh is like quicksand, and I know that to get out, it's going to be slow. I hop onto the fence and start making my way.

The feeling of doom washes over me. This is that man's territory, he's used to moving around in it and I know that. Deeper into the forest there is a cloaked figure, but I don't know if it is someone helping the one in pursuit. All I know is that I am climbing through the cyclone fence to escape, and then I wake up.

Birds: The most free animals I know. They live feeling free, and if they fall captive, they get depressed or die. They can't live in a state of slavery, they're quite fragile and also quite beautiful. Each one with their colors and their different sizes.

Forest: The world, freedom. Outer realms and places to discover that are fenced off. I feel trapped, caged where I am now, and where I belong is somewhere open.

Studio: What I work in, the things I want to do. I have a bachelor of fine arts in Graphic and Interactive Communication, but in art school I spent most of my time at the Illustration department. The studio felt familiar and it felt like the place where I truly belonged in. Objects in my mind that I know I could make if only I had the time now, or if I was in the same environment.

Man eating man: Feeding off vitality, feeding off others creativity. Stealing ideas, stealing time and effort. Plagiarism. Idling for so long that others are replacing me. Missing the mark.

This is so right, and I didn't understand it until I took the key elements and worked with them. I had to cancel last week's plane to California because my Mom was hospitalized with appendicitis and peritonitis. Her appendix burst and things got ugly, but thankfully, things are so much better now. I am glad I cancelled my plane, but stressed out that the hospital is sucking all my finances. I don't have time for myself to blog or work, just to take care of Mom.

I saw a lot of myself in the birds because they were feeling as I feel when I am living in PR, like the Eight of Swords in the tarot.

I think the dream was a great warning because it reassured me that the way I feel is not made up, but reminded me there is an exit even if it is fenced off right now. The way out is through, even it if is the most difficult one.

Photos compliments of Android Jones.

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