a soulful destruction

I've been remembering my dreams this week. I used to remember my dreams almost always, but over the last few years it has come to seem rare to recall what I dreampt, or if I even dreamed at all. I love dreaming and have felt a hole in my life where this rich dream-life used to be.

A couple days ago I dreampt of a home, my home, but no home I know in waking life. The home was single story, built of wood, and surrounded by grasses, bushes, trees, and other homes in a community. Not particularly suburban, unless it was perhaps some 50 years ago or more. There were no fences that I can remember between any homes.

There was a little girl outside and I was with her, perhaps talking, or playing along with a game, or she asking me questions. I felt a kindness toward her, a gentle love and compassion.

My wooden home was a bit dark inside, although the slats of wood had gaps between them and holes where soft bright sunlight shown through. The inner walls were also of these wooden boards - no insulation, no sheet-rock or plaster. Just old wooden boards, green with mold or moss or paint - like a fence. In that way it was very earthy and matched the nature surrounding it.

I recall feelings of deep sadness, beauty, quiet, emptiness, and maybe shame or guilt. I know there were other people and homes, but not who or what anything else looked like, just this snapshot.

The fence-gap wooden home makes me think of skeletal ribs. And I wonder if the home represents my physical self or my mental self or my emotional self. All would prove interesting in analogy. My physical self pocked with symptoms of autoimmune disease - tired weary body, lungs closed and dark, joints creaky, crackly, swollen and sore. My mental self - my brain feeling foggy, sometimes gaping holes that you could shine a flashlight through. My emotional self confused, jumbled and tangled like a mess of yarn.

Or perhaps it represents the overwhelm I feel about my life, my home, my current situation. I'm so far from comfort in all aspects of my life. There is far too much work to be done to get things to a state of decency - one can see the gaping holes. How can this be repaired? One can't abandon their life, they can only alter it from within. Yet there is sunlight streaming through, and that makes it sweet and beautiful. A soulfulness in the destruction.

educating me

Thinking about returning to college for a BFA has been stressful... I think about it a lot, but it's only this summer that I've felt well enough to do something so time consuming as college. I began researching schools this summer, hoping one would stand out as "the one for me".

I already have two BAs, and have been asked "Why don't you apply for an MFA program?" I could... but I don't really have a strong enough portfolio, or the confidence. Seems adequate reasoning for me. I haven't really had the energy to work on my portfolio because I've been focused on improving my health.

Now, I feel better and want to continue my education. But I don't want to make a commitment to live somewhere I've never been and might not love.

It feels less stressful to choose to just take art classes with various art organizations in order to learn the skills I need and get that portfolio moving forward. So, that is my plan, again. (I think I came to this same conclusion 3 days ago before I forgot and re-started looking at colleges for a BFA.) I hope I can remember this decision long enough to prevent myself from starting the stressful college search again.