The paint from my brush dripped onto the tarp at my feet. Then, as I moved the ladder to another position along the wall, the tarp folded back on itself while the paint was still wet. When I straightened out the tarp, the liquid in the crease had formed an interesting symmetrical design atop still other colored spots. The entire tarp was a history of splattered paint from many different wall painting projects. I could have examined the tarp like a Rorschach Inkblot Test, trying to find patterns in the paint, like kids look for animals in the clouds or constellations among the stars in the night sky. And perhaps I could have played connect-the-dots with my paint brush, embellishing the design in a deliberate way. The end result would have been quite creative. But is it art? Well, yes, of a sort, but I wouldn't put the tarp imagery into the same category as art planned ahead of time.
Art involves a conscious decision. Even a decision to be random (like flinging paint at a canvas) is a conscious decision. Allowing impulse or intuition to direct the brush is a conscious decision. A disciplined artist is one who has spent time learning the skills, the techniques, the theories and applications that allow paint to adhere to canvas in a way that best expresses in an outer manner what comes from the inside of self.
The art of dreaming involves a conscious decision somewhere along the line. You might react after the fact, recalling and recording your dreams, trying to find patterns in the imagery through dream interpretation techniques. Or embellishing the original production with creative dreamwork. Or perhaps even translating your dream into a physical product.
But the process takes a quantum leap when the canvas of the mind is prepared before you go to sleep. When you set up the canvas at "I" level, you have a better opportunity to discover recognizable forms. You don't have to stand, looking down at the puddle at your feet, scratching your head and wondering, "What does that mean?" Now you know what the painting is likely to be about, because you suggested a subject the night before. You incubated a dream.
But you can't congratulate yourself alone if you actually get something in response. The production of a dream requires the cooperation of the dreaming self.
Is the inner self an artist? She certainly can draw some interesting sketches and amazing wall murals that we call "dreams." But are these flashes of imagery from the unconscious true art? I think it depends on how lively her type of consciousness is. As there is a difference between the spontaneous finger painting of a child and the structured oil painting of an trained artist, so there is a range of artistic productions that our minds can create.
Sometimes the artist within seems to paint in a deliberate way, creating ordered coherence. Other times, we are blessed with the randomness of fractal beauty. I honor all the productions of my dreaming self, but I now realize my responsibility in her efforts. Without my deliberate intervention, she must make do with whatever found-objects she uncovers in the pile of day residue that I dump into my mind processing system.
The inner artist can paint without my outer help. As an outer artist, I can ignore her inner promptings. But when the two of us cooperate, the true art of dreaming starts to flourish. And the results of collaborative effort can be extraordinary.
It's such an easy and enjoyable process, I don't know why more people don't take advantage of the situation. It really is a hidden treasure. Of all the sorts of creativity I've attempted, the art of dreaming is surely one with the quickest results, because you partner with an experienced artist. The dreaming self has already had a lifetime to practice painting pictures of the inner world. What you do is bring new ideas and richer media to the meeting of minds. Even if you should enter the dream and become one with your dreaming self, the dreaming self does most of the work.
The result of your collaboration is twofold. You get extraordinary dreams, to do with as you please. But the benefit for your dreaming self is immeasurably richer. When you feed her with nutritious energy, she can live a vibrant existence in the dream. Not only do the both of you become more creative, you become more healthy. When the inner and outer cooperate, you experience, first hand, more healthy and creative lives.
And when you don't cooperate? Have you ever woken from a dream feeling upset, fatigued, conflicted, confused or frightened? How about puzzled and perplexed? That's a common reaction when the two of you are at loose ends.
You have a choice. You can try to puzzle out the conflict, using dreamwork interpretation techniques. You can attempt to change the troubled scenario, using dream control. You can do both, and more. You can stop living life as it is and co-create a better life. You can recover and discover and uncover the hidden potential of the art of dreaming.
And what is the hidden treasure? The ways that dreams serve our waking needs? Well, yes, but if that's all you look for, you're missing the point. As I say, the art of dreaming is a cooperative venture. The art of dreaming also asks, "What are the needs of my dreaming self?" "What does the dream mean...to her?" "What sort of life does she live that may have nothing to do with my waking existence?" "What happens when I put aside my expectation of her compliance and ask her for her own opinion?"
Then you launch yourself into the adventure within the extraordinary dream. And you're more likely to be welcomed if you come bearing gifts instead of garbage, when you offer dialogue instead of demands. Then, you'll not only find a fellow artist; you'll discover a lost friend.
Linda Lane Magallón, Dream Flights
http://members.aol.com/caseyflyer/flying/dreams.html1
© 2002 Linda Lane Magallón
1. historical link inactive December 2101
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