Last night hummingbird was flying super slow. I could see her colors, medium to dark blue to iridescent green on the edge, they were a little different than I expected, but I have never seen hummingbird in slow mo. I raised my forearm hoping she would land. I was a little shy about it, embarrassed that someone would see my hope. (There was a man standing near by.) Little hummingbird just flew right over my arm. Then later I was running slow–dream style–but was convinced I was awake. I thought to myself, “hey, this is why we run slow in dreams, because that is how it really is when we’re awake.”
I first met hummingbird when I was setting up my Red Sky at Night installation, at the Harwood Art Center, in Albuquerque. I was worried that the show was going to turn out crappy. Hummingbird flew into the building as I was thinking about this. It was late at night and I was working on the rice paper panel that the patch of “sunshine” would move across. I was so happy to see hummingbird, who represents joy and artistic beauty. She flew around for a while, through the wide hallway with super high ceilings near my gallery. I tried to steer her out of the building. I ended up climbing up onto a very high radiator to get the stairway window open. As I was doing this, the hummingbird was flying in place near the wall above me. While I was still on the radiator the hummingbird dropped down to the ground along the wall, going between the radiator and the wall. On the way, she brushed my big toe–softer than the softest rabbit fur (softer than their neck fur).
I decided hummingbird needed some time by herself to figure her way out. I checked back later and she was gone.
I felt very positive about putting the rest of the installation together after seeing hummingbird, and it ended up being quite serene.
Last night I watched a silly movie, but it reminded me to re-focus on my art. The move to Portland has really disrupted my art making. I started mining my past dreams for imagery. Feeling a lot more free to experiment here, with more varied landscape and more pleasant weather. (Last time I shot some footage I ended up with a cold after being out in 20 degree weather in my dream dress.) Once again I thought about how I needed to find a little trampoline. I thought “maybe I can manifest one, perhaps one will just appear.” (I prefer the “maybe” approach to opening windows of possibilities–that way I don’t get too attached to the idea, and yet it becomes more likely, check “What the bleep…“). I felt the dream gave positive encouragement to the art making.
On the other hand, to work on my lucid dreaming I have been reminding myself during the day that I am living a dream (Tibetan Yogas of Sleep and Dream). But, (with the running dream and others,) it looks like I am still loving the dream so much that I convince myself it is the real deal. Ha! The “real deal” is a dream too.
Then, today we were walking Coco and my brother’s dog Chichi (we didn’t name them) and I saw a mini trampoline on the side of the street. The man in the driveway gave me his blessings, and I was off with my new tramp. “Yeah!” for lucid dreaming!