Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Daughter of the Mistral

Several years ago I had a dream which I experienced as something not quite belonging to me. It was unusual for several reasons, one being that it was narrated, and in a lovely male voice and a language I had never heard before. Somehow, through dream omniscience, I guess, I was able to understand what was spoken. And yet it was almost as if there were no actual voice at all.

Also atypical of my dream life, was the fact that I was nowhere to be found in the dream itself. I generally have some role in these narratives, even if it's simply that of an observer. The dream felt like mythology. I'm sure it has it's meaning specific to me, but I couldn't help feeling like it meant something else, too. I would love to hear any interpretations.

It went like this -

Everything is hued in gold, a bright shining sun over the Mediterranean. A man sits naked on a raft, his weight is shifted onto one hip. His legs, though bent some, jut out behind him. He props his torso and head up by keeping his weight on his hands. In his left hip, or maybe just a bit down the thigh, is an embedded arrow.

On the shore are two other men, one of them an archer.

The man is in peril - our man, the subject of this story. The raft is stealing him away from harm, but he has no oars, no means to guide his craft.

For some time he floats. He going where the winds want to take him. It is said on the wind he must find the Mistral's daughter.

For who knows how long he is on this course. Then, one day he lands on a distant shore. She is there, lying on the beach. Still now, all is golden with the sun, like her hair. She is young and lovely, and trying to give birth. She cannot, and a pact is made.

He pulls the arrow out of his hip and carves the baby out of her mother's belly. Her mother, who inevitably must perish, and so he has promised to take her, this girl child.

They are floating on the raft together, this man and this little girl, a daughter of the Mistral.


Anonymous said...

If you are all the characters in your dream, the theme thats seems to be the most compelling is birth. The is a myth of a god that gives birth thru a wound in the you have the archer(sag, wounded healer) on a body of water, traveling(emotion?) who preforms a ceasarian section on this golden woman who will pass on her child to this wounded emotional archer...what part of your animus relates to this man? what about the woman on shore relates to where you are as a vessel of creativity? Is the key in the hand-off?

Anonymous said...

Sorry for the mispellings, but i thought of one more thing...with the death of this woman how does that relate to what must change in order for you to produce greatness?
What is this man fighting for fleeing from that will save this legacy? Is your wounded animus with his thigh-womb the one that intiates your rebirth?
It is spring is time.

jt castleton said...

fraud?! whatever happened to artisitc license and teaching an 8yr-old to say "fucking idiot"?

and why can't i have narrated dreams? it'd be like sleeping and catching a film at the same time.

anonymous brings up a good point: the dream reminds me of the myth surrounding the birth of bacchus (from zeus' makeshift womb in his thigh) and perhaps even the death of adonis.

there's something about the circle of life in there.

too many limitations with art history, so i had to go with international studies. but i agree, the cute ones liked the major.

and don't think for a minute that the i failed to notice the peeps. i was just waiting for a photoshop moment.

i hope there are snakes on my plane to paris. i'll bring a camera just in case.