Vibrational Capital Dream

February 1, 2014

Last night I had another of my fable-dreams.

dream interpretation

“It’s that same dream, where I’m drowning in a bowl of noodles.”

I am receiving a payment for a portrait commission, and I seem to be remembering that it was Will I Am who commissioned me (Wow!!! Wouldn’t it be cool!!!). The payment is in cash, £18000. I feel really pleased and excited to have all this money, which is wrapped loosely in three newsprint bundles.

I have one or two (can’t remember, or perhaps the number varied from moment to moment) male partners with me. I share my joy and excitement with them and there is a slight feeling of wanting to see them joyous with me/for me and pleased with me/for me. I guess this is something I am internally working with at this time – wanting to please others.

The money seem to go to the group pot, meaning – we share it.

Then, we are in a street, standing by a car, ready to leave. Another car approaches and a man comes out. He and my partner(s) get embroiled in an argument. There is an understanding that this is an ongoing affair – it started sometime ago and not likely to end soon. They shout at each other and it is looking to get really violent. I am rushing to my partner to talk him out of this conflict, pulling at his sleeve, but he is ignoring me. I feel a bit scared, but more than that, I feel anxious that I will loose my money which at this moment got tossed aside and lying on the side of the road by some bushes.

I realise that my attempts to stop the fight are futile and I’d be better off to take care of money and leave them to it.

At this point in my dream, I am half-dreaming, at the same time conscious. I don’t want to leave the dream in this unresolved state, so I make a decision to stir it towards a positive conclusion. In my dream, I get the money bundles (making sure not to attract too much attention of the quarrelling people) and get into the car. Lock the doors. I sitting in the car and thinking, perhaps it would be even better to run away from this place all together…

Here the dream ends, somewhere between me sitting inside a locked car and me dashing out and away to where there are buildings and people. In any case, I feel my intention/decision: I’ve got the money. I am relatively safe.

I relayed my dream to Tim. He wasn’t sure what was the meaning of it I was so excited about. So, I had to explain the symbolism of it the way I saw it at that time:

Lately I am getting somewhere positive with my work on directing my vibrational/emotional state. Those who are familiar with the teachings of Abraham Hicks and Bashar or The Secret will understand what I am talking about. I guess, the majority of the students of these teachings at some point feel really frustrated by feeling “being stuck”, not getting much beyond theory of it all. But then it comes. Gradually, slowly  it gets better, and that’s where I feel I am now – first steps out of the fog.

I see the money I got for the commission as a symbol of my emotional/vibrational capital. I worked hard for it, I earned it. This is my security, my reward, my stability. My gold I pined for. I am in partnership with some other persons and I accept that we share my wages, or in other words, we share our emotional/vibrational wealth. But then the conflict happens, and they are focused on it and hence, are about to loose our (at that stage it is “our”) money.

There are two options for me here – to get dragged into this stale and stupid affair for the sake of some perceived ties ( read: partnership, friendship, love, loyalty), or cut all of that out, claim the money, i.e. my vibrational capital, for myself and retreat to a place of safety.

In my border-state of awakenness I am sort of aware of the symbolism of the dream and I decide to give it a happy ending. Of course, a happy ending is a matter of perspective too. From a point of view of a certain set of values, a happy ending would be to forget the money, get into the fight, save the mate and walk into the sunset drugging the bloodied bloke on one’s shoulder. Love triumphs. So, it is interesting, but not eye-opening, to see what I myself see as a happy ending.

The way the dream ends I see as another dilemma which I am still undecided about – whether to sit it out in a car, although basically stick with the guys, or to make a runner altogether. Now, post-factum, I’d rather leg it.

Points I like about this dream:

  • I have a vibrational capital!
  • I made a decision to be free from self-imposed bonds!
  • I once again experienced linking dream-state and awake-state!

I have a dream…

May 1, 2013

I store it all.

And then, there’ll come a time when I sit down on my little island and write my book.

The words will come to me and lay themselves down into lives, emotions, characters, destinies and stories. And spells.

I’ll weave my magic carpet with secret symbols, and hidden messages, with rivers and mountains of energy flowing in and out, consuming a reader, enchanting, changing, transforming….

(Diary entry on February 16, 2010)

Egg a la Saracen

October 31, 2011

I dreamed up a recipe for an egg dish. Egg Saracen, or Egg a la Saracen.

Let me explain. I had a dream, in which Charlie Sheen was featured heavily, and one of the things he talked about was a method of cooking an egg. He called it Egg Saracen. For two eggs, take half a little milk. Boil milk, add salt, add two eggs to it, constantly stirring. That’s it.

I googled it now – nope, no such recipe known. Now it’s between me and Charlie Sheen to decide on the copyright for this dish.

I’ll try out the recipe first though.

About me. The old story

March 16, 2011

The initial idea was to write about portraiture. But I realised that the only subject I can talk about with any degree of competence is myself. So, it is all about me. I hope that amidst my confused struggle you may find a particle of sense applicable to your own circumstances.
One way or another we are all in Arts, and I am sure each of us faces this question of “What is Art?” at least once in a life time.I gave it some big thinking lately, and here is my story.
The way I found myself in this profession is by following not my passion, but a number of accidents. And so, I spent my first couple of years in art college wondering what I was doing there and why. Even then the suspicion crept in, that the skill, the abilities, the status and the paraphernalia of being an artist are all secondary attributes. The primary one is the message.
blank canvas cartoons, blank canvas cartoon, blank canvas picture, blank canvas pictures, blank canvas image, blank canvas images, blank canvas illustration, blank canvas illustrations The message was missing. I had nothing to say, no opinion of my own. My life was happening outside of the college walls, and it was more real, more fun, more current than anything under the abstract and ambiguous concept of Art.
I quit Art and the college and got busy with life. In a few years time there came a yearning to know more about Art. Or maybe it was a wish to appear more knowledgeable about Art. Which one of these was more true – I cannot tell. I came back to the college and started anew with renewed vigour. Soon I realised that in order to be serious about Art one has to make one’s living out of it. So, I started an art gallery, with a next-to- nothing knowledge about Art and no idea about Business.
I wasn’t alone in my innocence – the whole country knew nothing about business! But we were learning fast. It was fun, at times nerve-wracking, thrilling and rewarding.
Freedom.jpg The best thing about the art gallery was having the opportunity to learn about the world outside the impenetrable borders of Uzbekistan, as the community of foreigners in Tashkent constituted all of my clientele.
One thing led to another, soon I had a chance to travel abroad, and in 2000 I took myself and my Art to London with the hope to find somebody interested. Then I met Tim and stayed in England. wedding weddings marriage
Life became fulfilled in an unexpected for me way with the arrival of children. Art never had a priority with me, and now it had to be content with even less of my attention. It became a means to earn the living for my family. Or perhaps having the family added an incentive to make Art. Which one is more true I again cannot tell. Also, by never really ceasing to make Art, I never had to give myself up entirely to the intensity of the mother and baby relationship. And it did a lot of good to my sanity!
Meanwhile I was trying to figure out what Art is. I believe there is no better place for this kind of search than Britain. There is so much of what falls under the description of Art one way or another, so that one gets the big picture. And besides, one doesn’t feel alone in one’s bewilderment about it all.
  • Art.
  • Visual, literature, music, performing, applied.
  • Design.
  • It is everywhere.
  • Big art and minor art.
  • Mainstream and outside art.
  • £Million Art and worthless art.
  • Value of Art.
  • Where am I in all of this, where is my Art in this picture?
  • What does it mean for me – Art?
  • What is success in Art for me?
  • Success is Fame? Success is Money?
  • How important is it?
  • In order to achieve Fame and Money, what am I prepared to give?
This big recessional scare we all had lately got me rushing from one thing to another, trying to prevent disaster. The exercise was productive, but in unforeseen ways.The world’s amplified worries about money brought to my attention that I managed to get this far in my life without giving money much thought. I decided to establish a closer relationship with money.
The idea being that by studying money, I’ll understand and love it more, and it will reciprocate.
Like a good girl, I got myself piles and piles of books on business, art management, marketing, money, attracting money, selling etc, etc.I talked to everyone, especially the more fortunate ones, about their relationship with money and how they got there. It is said that to attract money, you have to concentrate on what money can give you. I surrounded myself with cut-outs of mansions and cars, expensive accessories and top-of-the-market gadgets.
I truly gave it my best shot. And here is my conclusion: Money is a game. And this game does not excite me.
My intention to make money a stimulus for my productivity failed miserably. I don’t care for the riches of the world, however hard I try to convince myself otherwise. And being content with what I have, I care only for preserving the freedom of doing what I like doing, when I like doing it.
Which is many different things. Stylistic diversity is a reflection of my inability to limit myself to one area, or style, or theme. I can see a few topical threads forming throughout the years, but at any given moment I tend to have some seemingly unconnected things going on. Which common sense in pursuit of success condemns as a bad thing.
But by trying to limit myself to one or two themes or media, I realised that I limit my output, instead of improving. Besides, I tire myself by the mere effort of keeping in the rut. How about the excitement of new ideas? What about the enjoyment of the creative process?
My friend Brigitte and I went to a talk by Dave McKean. He is an incredibly productive artist. But also versatile. The style is immediately recognisable, while the media are many. There were some points in the talk which I found particularly important. They came about as an answer to a question: What would be his advice to a budding illustrator?
He said that it is important to go and do it. So many people think and talk of doing this and that, but never get down to the business of realising their ideas for fear of failure, or being simply lazy or disorganised.“Just do it. In time, that work will accumulate, and if it is any good, it‘ll find it‘s place. By which time you‘ll be surprised yourself, how much you‘ve progressed.”
Another piece of advice for illustrators – learn to write too. Although Dave has a very long and productive partnership with the author Neil Gaiman he finds it important for an illustrator to become a writer.
The underlying idea is to be as versatile as possible. These days technologies take over some highly specialized technical jobs in the industry, allowing the artist herself to be in control of the whole process from the concept to the end product.What he said again confirmed to me that diversity is not a bad thing, and my secret folder with the short stories has the right to exist, as well as odd collages, and ink drawings and all the rest. I’ve got to allow myself to take every obscure route I am compelled to take, instead of sticking to one safe certainty.
The reason why diversity is never welcomed on the art market is the need to sell the output.
I recommend reading a book “The $12 Million Stuffed Shark” by Don Thompson, which is the greatest eye-opener on the business of art. This is a quotation from that book: “Never underestimate how insecure buyers are about contemporary art, and how much they always need reassurance.”
The reassurance the buyers need lies in quantity and recognisability.
I am sure, the secret of the sell-out of the latest show by Anita Klein is to be found right there. Jack Vettriano’s unique creative career is proof of just the same – quantity and recognisability. There are other ingredients too, but one thing is definite – sales have nothing to do with skill or aesthetics.
So, I came to the conclusion that I had better forget about the big art market, because I will never be a good product, ie:
highly productive in one area,
motivated by money,
and as a bonus – shocking.
What’s my way to success then?
Well, first of all, owning a shop is the biggest advantage. Took me 8 years to stop being shy about it and to appreciate it fully! My shop = my independence.
Another cornerstone of artistic freedom is the Internet, and it becomes more vital every day. There are great examples of how to reach out to the audience, and build up the following. Dave McKean’s advice about learning to write becomes very hot in this context. The whole world is a stage open to those, who can captivatingly express what they have to say. Individuality was never in a better position.
Being an artist is a solitary business, and the opportunity to bounce ideas off others seldom presents itself without extra-effort. That’s why we came together in the form of this club, and I hope it’ll grow organically into something fruitful.
Meanwhile, and in between, I find a lot of inspiration through the Internet. For instance, getting ready for our meeting, I found the website of a doctor of psychology Ellen Rudolph, and her words which brilliantly express what I was trying to say:
“Such is the artist who is so unified as a whole that his or her properties cannot be derived from a simple summation of their parts. They are more than the mere sum of their parts. Like that of the bow and the lyre, the artist’s harmony consists of blatantly opposing tensions.
The greatest achievements of humankind have happened because someone, somewhere, made the effort to think outside of the box in the face of pressure to explore more conventional spaces.
Think of that the next time you strive to overly control your life.The universeflows, as you and I also should. Art is NOT a fixed idea that you have before you start making it. It happens when we let go of our self-induced constraints and finally let ourselves feel.”  The essays by Dr Ellen K. Rudolph.http://www.drellenrudolph.com/psyessay1.html
Today, answering my question “What is success in Art for me?“ I say, to learn not to constrain my creativity by my feelings of duty, limitations or fears, or by somebody‘s ideas of what Art is supposed to be. To create freely and fruitfully, and then put all the pieces together and make up a story of one life.

Sincerely thank you for reading!

 

What are you insanely great at doing?

What I always felt insecure about is my sticking to the realistic representation of the people and objects in my visual art. The problem with that is, as common criticism these days goes, there is not much creativity involved in doing that. It’s just a copy of the nature. And NOW I see it for what it is. (I am thinking along as I write here). I see things realistically. That is my way of seeing things – as they are. If I were a writer, I’d write realism rather than sci-fi, if I were a painter, I’d paint realistic photographic portraits rather than abstract cubes or splodges… You see, I wrote “if I were a painter”… Funny that, because I kind of am a painter. Just now, just moments ago I made a transition from a visual artist to … what? Who am I? I finished Me The Painter now, and who am I then? I am a helper. Am I a healer? That doesn’t sound quite right. Am I a facilitator, an inspirator? Something along those lines. I am kind of a little ahead on the path and I am calling the others to follow, I trod a path, I am a path-treader. Fun!

There are millions of paths, there are millions of path-treaders. I just tread and show one of the millions of possible paths, and most likely this path will be suitable only for me, but it might help someone to see HOW I trod it. It is about applying the method of finding one’s path rather than the path itself.

Or, yeah. I remember now. There is a term for it which I came across a lot recently. A way-shower. So that’s what I am . That, I must admit, spoiled much fun for me – first, I wasn’t the first; secondly, that term comes from those creepy alien, new-agey, spirit-channelling people… Hmm.

But I strayed away from the question.

Ah! The answer came to me just now! (I have definitely tuned myself into something good!)
I am insanely good at analysing myself and applying it to a human behaviour in general, listening, comparing, analysing again, learning. And I can see now where all of that is leading me. I am a helper. A way-shower.

I am having a special moment here… Sorry. Back soon.

The last episode of my dreams today was the one with a sculpture…

I had someone telling me, that he sow a very interesting sculpture, “go, and see!” Explained where it was, somewhere in a public indoors area. I went. It wasn’t a museum or gallery, so people around were not paying attention specifically to that piece of art, and I spotted it in a corner by looking for it. It was a life size or slightly bigger standing figure. In a office attire, with a laptop bag under one arm and some suitcase with documents in another. Glasses. Short curly hair. Tie. Breasts. Slightly erected bulge of a penis under the zip of the trousers… Made in bronze. The look of the myopic eyes and the general expression of the face kind of attentive, but rather lost, switched off like… You know, like the look of someone who internally gives up, but keeps up the appearances, not even himself aware of having given up.

Some joyous voice says: “Great isn’t it? I especially like the way the balls roll around, creating a circular movement of the composition.” I try to see the dynamic balls, peering all over the sculpture, but can only see the mass of bronze. I am looking also for some information on the artist. Somewhere, I find that the name of the artist is Marina Davidovskaya… (Later in the morning I googled the name. Nope… No such person. Therefore, I am not a clairvoyant yet.)

Then I gradually wake up, and not opening my eyes proceed to thinking about my project at hand. The Saint Ronan’s school… Not that I need even more new media to my repertoire, but I do want to make it in a digital print technique. After reading that book “Coraline” with the illustrations by Dave McKean (and looking up more of his works, of course), I got really intruiged by the ways of combining photography and drawing and painting media all in one. I want to try! Trying to think now, how to fulfill it technically, as it’s gonna require some very expensive software (Adobe) and scanner… and printer… 😦 But where there is will, there is way. Sure.

I was looking at a plastic doll and musing about colour. Why is the colour of a plastic thing, however close you try to copy the flesh shade, is always dull, colourless, dead? Because the colour is just one uniform mix. If you look at the doll in the light – it is all more or less the same colour, only with the variation of the tone, determined by the amount of the light falling on to a particular area. If you look at it in the shaded areas – same thing: one colour with a variety of tone. But if you look at a flesh, the overall colour is a composite of manyelements flesh is made up of: the skin itself, which is slightly translucent, the veins, coming closer or going deeper, the bones, the hair, the blood… So, coming to my favourite topic of the week – information – we can say, that the dull colour of the plastic bears the information about its nature – a uniform lamp of plastic. While the colour of skin bear the information about the components of the flesh…

What was it all about? I don’t know, maybe just wanted to pour out my thoughts on ridiculousness of existence of such thing as a flesh tint in paints.

A Tale about Difference

March 19, 2009

18 February 2009

 

In my dream, a succession of events brought me to realisation, that I am in an altered state of mind.

 

I was at the vet’s. With a flower?.. With memories about a dog?.. The vet was someone I knew, but couldn’t place. The place was somewhere I knew, but it was cleaner and the furniture got changed about. By saying “furniture” I mostly mean a huge white bath, a sink and a chair. There must have been a table, which was meant to be an operating table, although it looked like an ordinary dining one. I must have addressed him with my problem. He said: – “Operate!”, and I placed the object I came with on the table and walked out into the waiting room. Read the rest of this entry »

dreamland

February 7, 2009

I am reading a book at the moment.

Yes, I know,  it’s not unusual… Yeah, yeah…

So, I am reading this book at the moment – “… Oh, forgot the title. It’s by Judith Orloff. She is a psychic and a psychologist at the same time, which makes her experience kind of more credible. To me, anyway.

Yes. And yesterday there was this bit about the dreams. The meaning etc. I decided finally to give a go to recording my dreams on a regular (more or less) basis.

The recommended method with the dreams is to ask a question, or program yourself to have a dream on a certain topic, so that you can receive the wisdom through it, before you fall asleep. Then, when you wake up, it is best to record it ASAP, because the chances are – you’ll forget. It might be not too important, but then again, on some occasions it might be life saving.

Yesterday my plan was to have a healing kind of dream. The question was “what is this pain I am having lately in my spine, and what am I to do about it”. I suspect, somewhere along the line my subconscious reprogrammed itself for s more exciting entertainment. I guess it didn’t think much of my health agenda, and decided to go for an action movie instead. As usual.

There were two dreams. In the first one I kept rewinding and trying various methods of solving the problem presented in the dream. I am being overcharged in the cafe. When I find that the bill is far too high, I point it out to the owner, she realises the mistake and promises to sort it. She offers me to return back in a few minutes while she is dealing with it. I say “OK” and go outside with the girls, leaving my card behind on the counter. I do it intentionally, trusting her to do her job in an honest way. Maybe more to the point, not wanting to hurt her feelings by doing otherwise.

When we come back, it turns out that she confused our bill with the other party’s one. They’ve already paid MY bill and gone. I am her only chance to get her money to the full. I am naturally outraged and show it. She is very upset and almost begs me to pay the someone else’s much bigger bill, because she can’t get money her from them now. At this point I think: “Hang on. Is it wise to shout here? Maybe the best strategy would be to be kind of a naive and trusting type, vulnerable, needing looking after?” So, I rewind to the moment when the problem arises and start again in my new image.

“No. Won’t work, ” –  think I. First of all, it was my own mistake to leave the card behind with people, who already showed improper behaviour by overcharging me. That was very stupid. Anything could be done with the card while I was out – information recorded, good bought – the lot! Start again, and keep being angry and pushy and outraged. I rewind and resume the angry scenario…

At this point I think I woke up. Probably didn’t find the right solution and gave up on the whole situation. However, it was an interesting exercise an two aspects – rewinding the dream (which I am not doing the first time), and the dealing with the situation itself. I am NOT going to leave my card laying about anywhere any more!

The second dream was about me trying to find my car, which I parked somewhere on the street, as one does. I am on a bicycle. The area is rather hilly and very busy. I am circling round and round with no success. I meet a friend of mine. He is nice, friendly, jumps on the boot behind me. It is getting heavier to ride the bike. We go up and down, round and round. The streets are packed with the parked cars. at the bottom of yet another hill he offers to take my place, and I am glad to swap. I am taking a ride now and feeling better. However, I am loosing hope to find the car. We cycle along, and on the sides of the road we are I can see several cars parked really recklessly, crashed into each other, and actually on top of each other. I marvel at that. We ask someone for help or direction. She says, that I must have left it with someone. There are new people, Koreans, leaving in the neighbourhood… At this point I remember! Of course, I left my car with the very nice people in the yard, as they could see I didn’t find anywhere to park and offered me to help. And I recollect the episode in my dream, which at the same time appears to me as if I remembered it from the dream I had previously (curious!). I say to my friend;”I know exactly where my car is now!” and off we go to pick it up. The end.

At some moment during the day, the meaning of the second dream came to me. I thought: “Oh, yes!” But now, I don’t remember what that was… Never mind!

Watch the sequel tonight!