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The Self-Serving Dream (Volume 15, January-February, 1982)

Updated: Apr 10, 2021

Wednesday, February 17, 1982

Last night I oil painted. There is no art form which compares to oil painting - it is so mysterious, subtle, satisfying.

Talked to Connie and Ginny on the phone as I painted.

Last night's dream was wonderful. I was standing in a room amidst a circle of people, mostly women. A man there was going to present an award - a cash prize of $300.00. He asked us questions. "How many of you are going to be homemakers?" Quite a few raised their hands. "How many are seriously pursuing careers?" My hand went up, along with several others (not as many as in the first group).

The man surveyed us all for a moment. He stared at me longer. Then he said (something like), "I will give this award to anyone who can name fifteen examples of what they've done so far." I knew he had asked this because he knew I would know how to answer and he wanted me to win. He turned to me and said, "Can you remember the titles of fifteen of your paintings?"

"Yes, yes, I can."

So, in my dream, in my mind, I went right back through art school and started naming paintings.


She Threw the Words Over Her Shoulder

Unt Angus and Uncle Gun (I was wrong on quite a few of them.)

Rotten Thoughts

I said, "Big Chicken" and, as I said it, a big chicken walked into the circle of people and no one was too surprised.

I couldn't think of the title of my most recent painting, Con:Cave. I called it something like Painting of Woman, Ironing Board and Cave -- and this was acceptable.

Then, I was really going way off. "Watercolor study for Painting of Woman, Ironing Board and Cave" -- and this was acceptable.

In fact, anything I said was acceptable - it was already determined that I was to win the prize.

I love dreams like that!

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