What would happen if you could create the world you live in with the stroke of a pen or a brush load of paint? A new painting this week illustrates a new way of working with dreams. Jumping back and forth between several realities; dreams, art and the ‘real world’ ~ they are all one in the same ~ parallel versions of real life!  Here is how it works:

When I arrived at Haven Beach to paint, it had just started to rain. The sun had not risen yet, though I could see the billowy storm clouds out over the Chesapeake. I parked and got into the back of the van with the egg sandwich I had brought from home.  I sat on the tailgate and watched the storm and ate my breakfast.

Rain got heavier so I closed the back hatch. I looked out across the marsh and watched the mist rising in the trees. Like sentinels, they watched out over the Bay, subtle colors changing around them as the day grew brighter. I opened my paint box and set up a little canvas and took some color notes.

Two days later in the studio, the little canvas continued speaking to me. So softly did the canvas speak, I could not really distinguish what it was trying to tell me. So I set a larger canvas on my easel and set about finding out for myself. The urge to scratch it out with a big brush was strong. I followed the urge to see what it was all about.

I used three colors and white; permanent blue, premanent red and cadmium yellow. From these, all the neutrals could be created. My canvas was already toned with a warm neutral in a value of about #3. (on a 1 – 10 scale) So I began with a similar value, slightly warmer. The next, slightly cooler. Back and forth, I continued painting layers of subtle colors. Nothing solid. Painting atmosphere. Painting the reflected light which I felt emmanating from the marsh, trees and sky.

By now the little oil sketch was silent and I was listening instead to the landscape within myself. Eeking it’s voice out, breath by breath, I listened carefully as if hearing it for the first time.  I painted for the rest of the afternoon, slowly allowing the colors to build one upon the next.  Finally stepping back at the end of the day, I see a different landscape than the one I saw that morning on the beach.

The landscape that morning looked dark and stormy. What I see reflected on this canvas shows no evidence of a storm.  I feel warm light emmating from the landscape. I see the sun rising on an entirely new day.  Indeed.

This week I have begun a new practice. In the days between this oil sketch and the larger painting, I have begun writing dream extensions in my journal. By this I mean that I have used my imagination to create, then write it in my journal as if I had dreamed it. Each of these entries extended a specific issue which was expressed in the previous night’s dream. And each of these enabled me to stand up and ‘walk into’ a new and different kind of day.

On Monday I made the oil sketch on the beach. On Thursday morning I saw myself hunkered down in my castle in a dream image. That morning I wrote the first dream extension,  writing myself standing confidently, graciously, proud of myself and my work in my castle. (rather than hunkered down awaiting attack.) I felt myself sigh as I wrote the words in my journal. And as I stood up from my chair in the den, I felt taller walking into my studio. Later that day, I felt drawn back to the oil sketch I had painted on Monday. From it I painted this warm, enlightened version of Monday’s sketch. In it I feel the warm gracious woman emerging strong and tall. And again, I feel a sigh of relief.

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