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** I think it's time for all creative souls to step forward. Make art,  teach art,  give art share your soul. see if that is what it will take to help stabilize what going on in the world today. November 2016


I’m a Humanist and a Buddhist and I meditate when I can, hey no one is perfect. I’m also a thinking man. I spend a lot of time in my head. I’m trying to grow into the man I would be the most proud of. I really like the guy I am but hey who can’t be better. Loving human kind for a sensitive man like me has proven to be more difficult than I could have thought. I have not given up, I just strengthen my mission.

I’m a good conversationalist and a better kisser. I'm a Photographer, Artist, Painter, Poet, short story writer, good cook and baker. So art and Music hold major place cards in my life.

I have a wonderful Partner who is supportive and inspiring. A nicer and sweeter man I could not have imagined. His name is Herschell

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Monday, May 11, 2009

In a search with Uncle Porter -A Dream

This dream is odd only because it has my Great Aunt's husband- James Porter Hughes in it.

My dreams are often like this so that part is not that strange.



Saturday, April 18, 2009

In the dream we kind of ran into each other at a party that is already getting fuzzy as I write this. I was at what felt like a college party and it seemed out of time, like it was from the 70’s or half 70’s half 2009. But it was held in these hotel bungalows that were light blue and white outside and avocado green, yellow and orange inside. There were maybe 8 rows of 20. There was music, dancing, talking and people looking and stuff on a modern computer.

I woke up on a sofa got stretched and grabbed my hat and jacket off the door and went outside and started walking. You know how when you’re in a dream and you’re going one way and end up another. That’s what happened and I ran into my Great Uncle, James Porter Hughes, again from the party last night. We all called him Uncle Porter. That was set way before I came along. We were both dressed in cool kind of I-Spy suits with hats and Sunglasses. Then we were looking for something but I didn’t really know what it was. I just went along with the search. Then we got in a car and went to a house and Uncle Porter did most of the talking. It seemed like this was his adventure and I was just along for support and for some reason that was fine. We talked with the woman there and then her kids. He got what he could out of them and we went outside and sat at a picnic style table in the open field next to the house we came out of. There were people playing softball/touch football and bad mitten. The some little kids came over to ask if we were the men looking for (blank). He said maybe, what do you know about (blank)? They said not much (blank) used to come here but now doesn’t. He smiled at them and they went and played right next to the table. Then these 4 or 5 guys came over. They were like people from the deep American South, clich├ęs really old red running shorts or overhauls with torn t-shirts only one had shoes. I didn’t feel like we were even in the US for some reason. As the one talked to us I noticed the others doing what seemed like circus tricks. The smaller one would jump on the bigger ones back whilst he was bent over with his back flat and then the bigger one would crouch low and jump throwing the smaller one up high in the air who would alternately flip or flatten at the highest part. The other one or two walked on their hands and did back-flips over and over. About that time I remember I had seen small odd shaped Bees there and they came into focus again. So I and the kids and the latter two of the country tumblers were aware of the bees the other were not as much. The guy being thrown in the air only had on these loose red running shorts from the 80’s and some kind of ball hugging underwear. I say this because his balls were hanging out of his shorts and they were the size of a California grapefruit. No one seemed to notice but me, typical, just typical. He was about 4 foot tall and very tight framed. His junk popping out like that didn’t seem to bother him at all. As I tried to dodge the bees that were stinging me on the arms as I watched the pale dirty white muscular acrobats. My Great Uncle Porter questioned the leader who was about 4foot 5inches tall and looked in the face to be about 50 years old but his body, skin and actions seemed more like 25 years old. He would talk whilst walking on his hands then doing flips off the table. Great Uncle Porter got what he wanted from them, writing in his small leather note book all the time and we left. We were back at the bungalows and talking to a cleaning woman who let us into one bungalow that lead to another and another. We found drunken naked people lying around and who pointed us this way and that. Then we step out of a door and over a guy laying on the steps. We were out on a hill top vista that wasn’t there before, looking past the back of a Catholic shrine in white marble and red brick. Then he said he remembered this view of the mountain across the way that had waterfalls and three peaks. On the right side of the shrine with the ladies and two stern looking priests there was a path that lead down the back of a large concrete and brown brick stage. My Uncle Porter said it was one of his favorite parts of this part of Copenhagen, Denmark. As we came around to the front I saw a large band of Asian guys playing jazz and spread out a crossed the length of this brick, surrounded bandstand. It was easily the length of a football field. There were people every were drinking, talking and listening to those cool cats playing really great music. We crossed right below the stage and my Uncle Porter was digging it. But he moved us forward and I started sliding faster between the crowed. It’s just something I can usually do when I need to. I realized I had lost him in the crowd. I turned around and looked for him. I started to feel a little panicky and looked in every direction. I could feel my heart racing and I woke up.


One of the odd parts about this dream to me is I didn’t really like this particular uncle and I don’t remember James Porter Hughes every being that cool. We never hung out and I often dreaded going anywhere with him because he was mostly a serious person who believed in work and pleasing white people whom he felt he owed something to. He was the Husband of my Mother Aunt, which makes him my Great Uncle. He died around 1998 or 2001. I had Uncles whom I liked a whole lot more than him, why come to me in a dream? He has four kids of his own and a wife. What the hell were we looking for? It seem like we were hired to do this. I feel it might have been a book.

1 comment:

  1. Have you ever read any of the works of Robert Moss? One of my favorite ways of working with dreams or gaining some insight about them (either by myself or a partner) is to utilize the "7 questions".
    1. Title of the dream?
    2. What were your feelings upon first awakening?
    3. Reality Check: what things in the dream are real in the "waking" (ha, ha, ha) world?
    4. What would you most like to know about this dream?
    5. "If this were my dream"... (for interpretation when working with a partner(s)
    6. what are you going to do to honor this dream; e.g. do a dream re-entry, share this dream with others, take guidance from this dream, etc.
    7. Write a bumper sticker to acknowledge what happened in the dream.

    This can be a powerful tool when working with dreams. I've been a lucid dreamer since I was a kid, and use to re-enter dreams and alter the ending or sometimes just pickup where I "left off". A great way to get your super hero, ride in on the charger, with the cape snapping back fix; or not. The possibilities are endless.

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