(Arabesque, video by Mary Lucier, 2004)
Stop reading right here if you are getting bored with my endless quasi, if not downright erotic, wild animal lover dreams, cause here we go again.
I mean, I get it. I totally glaze over when I hear "Last night in my dream . . " Not that I don't appreciate the absolute mystery of the dreamtime, who doesn't? But the endless searching for meaning in the unknown, the seeking the counsel of others to find the hidden treasure, usually ends up in minuitae that just doesn't translate to the even your most intimate of listeners.
Taking that into consideration, I will do my best to get right to the point. Maybe.
I have been extraordinarily well behaved in the face of love this year, not that love is necessarily the place you want to be well behaved. I, however, have been exceptionally poorly behaved in love for most of my loving career, so it bares mentioning. Well behaved means, in my case, pretty much not participating in romantic love at all. Not as a punishment, just to do a little housekeeping.
It's almost all romance to me anyway . . . I love love love to see people, up really close. I love to really look into someone's eyes. That said, I have not stepped out of my luscious solitude for almost 16 months now. I feel so clear & still & at the core of me I have uncovered a tiny keyhole, the perfect fitting for my twin flame. As much of a lover as I have considered myself, I never really noticed that perfect place before.
Someone/something is coming & it has to do with the wild animals.
Two nights ago, I had another intensely lucid dream about a feral, mythical lover: this one was half man, half bull. I thought I knew him. He was very, very familiar In the last days, he has morphed into many men in my life, not quite fitting any of them. Stunning though, all the way through. I was magnetized to him in that true way that you wait for your whole life. In the dream we had just met & were casually sitting next to each other, as casual as you can be with a mythical creature, laying in the grass, waiting for something to begin. He was wearing a cowboy hat. As he leaned into me, I naturally ducked under the brim of his hat to kiss him. One thing led to another & it went on & on & on ~ no need for the (perhaps) boring details . . . it was a dream in real time, slowed way down, I stretched out in the luciousness of it, no worries about waking up, ever. I do remember, at some point in the meshing of our twin souls, having a mometary concern on the actual logistics of woman & bull in full-on physical love, but, thank goodness, that worry was gone in a heartbeat.