Some dreams are particularly lucid. When I pray for a vision for a painting, then I meditate especially on the theme, the client, the show, or whatever task is at hand. This was a painting for my first exhibit here in Delaware, at the beach. Somehow, I feel there is a piece of me in the painting.
In the dream that the painting came from, I was engaged to be married to a welathy lord who lived in a faraway kingdom from mine, across the ocean. He came to retrieve me and to take me and my dowry away to a place I had never seen. I was dressed in a long white gown of luminous silk, adorned in pearls and turquoise.
In the night a storm came, and when the ship was torn apart, I was the only one left alive, washed up on the shore. I woke in my salt soaked gown on the shore, looking at the parting mists of the storm that had taken my husband to be, as well as his crew. It was a strange sensation, that of being shipwrecked and possibly stranded, as well as free and alive. I was staring at the constellation of the Seven Sisters, and felt that they had been looking down over me, washing me safely to shore.