Tag Archives: dreams

Take a look: Poetry reading and Cello music in Brett Whiteley’s Studio. (with a footnote on alchemy and purity)

On Sunday this week, I attended a poetry reading “Take a Look” at the Brett Whiteley Studios. The poet was Peter Boyle, who hasĀ  books of poetry published, has won numerous awards for his poetry and has translated poetry works from Spanish and French. 20191103_141151[1]

Many of the poems resonated with the love he felt for his late wife, Deborah Bird Rose, who passed late last year. It was obvious to all present just how in love this man was… or is. Others spoke of his experiences in the world of art, literature and travel.

Accompanying Peter was a solo Cellist Christina Christensen, who with her cello managed to convey emotions only found when one is in meditative quiet. I remember she played a piece which she wrote called Lost Dreams, I think. Deep deep notes echoed regret, sorrow and sad contemplation. But just when you would have let out a sigh of empathic understanding, the last few notes were higher, faster, and finished with a flurry which left me feeling that the dreams had not been lost forever, that there was indeed hope.20191103_141739[1]

Lost Dreams touched me deeply and inspired me to write a poetry piece of my own.

The Death of Dreams

Too late.

Why did we wait

Life caught us up in the trap

of want more, need more

until at last

we are now time poor

We could have done

so much more.

Too late.

You grieving already,

Me being at deaths door.

The dreams are gone

But memories can live forever.

 

Contemplating death, and those dying, who have given up hope, I believe you can tell. The glimmer leaves the eyes. The love for a partner, once so intense, while still there speaks from an apologetic place. Sorry I am so much trouble. Sorry I will be leaving you alone, that I am causing you sorrow. Related image

Having cancer now has made me confront my own mortality. While having a full life, I can’t echo Frank Sinatra when he says, “Regrets, I have a few, but then again too few to mention.” My regrets are many. There are things in my life that I am certainly not proud of, and if I could have my life over, it would be so much different.

But I don’t live in the land of “shoulda, woulda, coulda”. I can only ensure that the future is different from the past.

Oskar Schindler:
“I could have gotten one more person… and I didn’t! And I… I didn’t!”

I live my life now as I should. I think it was the apostle Paul who said: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands” 1 Thessalonians 4:11. And that’s how I shall live till I pass.

sorry its morbid.

Dave

footnote: I again looked at Brett Whiteley’s Alchemy now in a new light. Alchemy. Typical Alchemists would take a mineral and hope to turn it into gold, for one example. To take something ordinary, worth little, and to make it into something priceless. Brett Whiteley’s Alchemy starts with birth, the act of conceiving, then becoming born. through the panels we can track life’s experiences. Brett’s explorations of science, religion, drugs and art, literature. He ends it on a background of pure white, with gold representing, as I have written before the ultimate sacrifice for art, for purity. It was this purity that Brett Whiteley considered most valuable of all. Thank you Brett for continually speaking to us, even though you have been dead for decades.

Dave

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Are you deaf?

I am compelled to now tell further visions which I have had in my life. I have never shared them before for fear of ridicule. The vision recounted below so haunted me when I was 13 that I ran away from home to try to see if I could make some sense of it and myself.

It  was recurring from age 9 to about 14. Then I think I stopped believing. the compulsion which drove me to church week after week even when my family ridiculed me for going ceased.

This was the vision:

I saw myself bursting forth from the top of a pyramid. Flying through the air, over lands ancient and modern. I wore a short white tunic with a gold hem and a purple line an inch from the hem and on both short sleeves. I wore tight gold armbands on my wrists. I am not aware of my legs or shoes.

I flew over a football ground, from one end to the other and as I did I screamed in my childish treble voice. Then I rose straight up in the air so I could see all the city.

I was crying, sobbing… and shouting for all to hear ” Why won’t you listen?”

But I knew the answer. I was resigned in the fact that I was just a child, with no experience of the world.

The vision ended there and often it left me shaking and sobbing. i recall once I was on the basketball court in year 7 playing basketball with my sports team when the vision came. I just sort of blanked out and ran to a small creek nearby so I could be alone.

Another time as I was walking home from school when I was in year 6, and it so overwhelmed me that I fainted, but managed to wake and get up before anyone noticed.

I have no idea what the vision meant or means. Be sure that these were not dreams but visions. They sometimes occurred at night but mostly during the day.

I was considered a dramatic child but never did I share these visions for fear of ridicule. I am braving it now, with the hope that others who have had similar or as equally bizarre visions may know they are not alone.

Dave

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Filed under Visionary Imagination