Articles: The Gift of the Dolphin

The Gift of the Dolphin

I have found creating artwork from the dream is not unlike a dance between the artist and the dreamer. Instead of a dialogue of words there is a dialogue of images from the night world consciousness juxtaposed onto the images of the day world consciousness. Images that are only shades of themselves in the dream become, through the creative process and the development of the plastic forms of art, illusions of three dimensional living beings that can speak to us by their gestures of silent presence. Like the myth, we can relate to as well as interpret the dream, and by so doing, the images and their background are born or transformed into a life of their very own. This is what has encourages me to continue to paint my dreams.

The painting of the dolphin, which I have titled "The Gift of the Dolphin," illustrated here, was done in 1984. It came from the collaboration of two dreams. After I had the second dream I was inspired to work them together in order to develop a particular topic, "the theme of the dolphin."

In the first dream I am on a back street in Italy that appears to be in a small village. While crawling on my belly I am singing with a chorus of angels. (I don't actually see them, but I can hear their voices behind and above me.) The feeling is that they are backing me up, or supporting me with their voices. The building towards which I am crawling could be either a church or a cathedral.

Something hot is going on inside in a room off of a balcony. I hear loud voices coming from its doorway. Now the color of the dream is flashing red shadows against the wall of the balcony. Although I cannot hear what is being said, I know there is an argument going on inside this room because the whole atmosphere of the dream has become a feeling of anger. I shout out, "How come, if I am singing with the angels, I am still crawling on my belly?" And just as I yell this, a male figure that is ejected form the room starts to fall over the railing of the balcony. I watch him as he descends slowly enough for me to see that while he is falling he is actually going through a metamorphosis. When he hits the ground he bounces a couple of times. I am certain at this point that whatever hit the ground is no longer a man. Curious to see what he has become, I jump up immediately and run over to the fallen object. What I see there has changed into something alive and quivering. No matter how closely I examine this strange translucent figure, it is still just the shadow of something that I am unable to identify. I do know though that it is something wet because it is lying in a pool of water.

On awakening I am filled with a feeling of wonder and awe. For days on end I am liberally haunted by the memory of this dream. The images of metamorphosis, the falling figure slowly transforming, kept repeating in my mind like a film stuck on a particular track. I knew that part of me was reaching for something definite, and I was also certain I had to get back to this dream as soon as possible. Each night that followed I made suggestions to my subconscious in hopes of reentering the dream. But all my efforts were unsuccessful. Finally, I had no choice but to let it go.

A few weeks later, when totally concerned with other things, I had another dream. I go to a very large museum while accompanied by a dream guide. Although the museum is dark, I can still see the art objects as gray shadows against the black. The two of us are the only ones in the museum. As we make our way through the various galleries, I again feel a wonderful sensation of awe like I had experienced from the sight of the pale wet quivering image in the first dream. I sense that there is something ahead that was waiting for me. When we come to the center of the museum, we enter a large circular room. We are drawn by some magnetic force to the center of the room. I don't know exactly where the light in this room is coming from, but I feel that it is natural light. It filters down so beautifully from above and falls like a spotlight all around us. At first this is all I am aware of. although I don't actually see the ceiling, what appears in my mind in recalling the dream is a circular room with an atrium. This was when I began to suspect that the dream could be archetypal. In the center of the room, high up on a pedestal, is the beginning of a skeletal body of a dolphin. I am immediately stunned by the beauty of the form and shape of the dolphin's bones. The light streams down over the white bones shimmering through them like they are made of a fine delicate lace. As the light shifts and changes, the bones seem to move and flutter as if they are moving through the water. The sight of this kinetic design stirs something deep inside of me. Both the guide and I stand transfixed by this film projected on the light strobing through the gallery. Although neither of us say anything. I am acutely aware of something being altered in and around me. As transmutation occurs even though I don't at that time know what it is.

When I awoke the next morning I was confident that the dolphin was as indication of some form of construction within not only my own psyche, but also in the collective psyche, vie the atrium. I also knew this dream to be distinctly related to the quivering image in the first dream. the fact that the dolphin had only begun construction in the second dream, led me to believe that it would be to my advantage to do a piece of artwork based on these two dreams in order to see where this would take me. I had no idea of the metamorphosis the image of the dolphin would finally appear.

At first I tried to paint the dolphin's skeletal structure, but everything in me fought this. Although the two dreams fit together as a concept, and esthetically I am attracted to the skeletal figure, artistically I knew it didn't work. The skeletal image is too vague for the rest of the composition. That is when I got the idea to paint the completed dolphin.

After I discovered that Lord Vishnu was first born out of the mouth of a fish, I was certain this painting was not just for me alone but must be shared with other dreamers. Many fantasies were born out of this painting and many ideas for future works have also come forward, and I have found that a painting from a dream or a series of dreams can and sometimes does become like a tarot card, and archetypal symbol that pops up in my mind from time to time. It can bring a new message of meaning to inform me of a different perception and/or interpretation which can be used as an aid in solving particular problems. Sometimes the image of a complicated work will be there to further the experience of realization while traveling through a process of thought that eventually leads to spiritual expansion.

It has only been recently that I have had another dream regarding the dolphin. In this lucid dream, I actually am a dolphin. What clues me to the fact that I am dreaming is that I am able to breathe underwater. Once I realized I am dreaming, I surrender myself completely to the spirit of the dolphin. I see the light as it filters down through the water up above me, just as the light from the ceiling of the gallery in the museum filtered down onto the skeleton of the dolphin. Again I am filled with awe as I playfully swim through the water as dolphins do so beautifully. Around and around I go when a curious thing occurs. I come upon a metal object that is suspended. (I say suspended rather than floating because it does not appear to be floating but hanging in mid air.) It is about as big as a grapefruit but it is round only on top and in the front. The back and bottom areflat, and while the rounded parts are shinny, the flat parts are rough and dull. I swim around it a couple of times. I can faintly see a fuzzy image of myself mirrored on its shiny surface, yet I don't feel an urge to get involved with the reflection.

When I awoke, I felt that I had actually experienced the kingdom of the dolphin in some beautiful special way. The image of the dolphin, and what is being discovered about the culture and society of the dolphin, and the growing concern of humanity for the earth and its creatures all adds to the many ways I am experiencing these dreams.

Needless to say, I am still working with them. After all, there still remains the riddle of the strange metal object that the dolphin swam around. I am positive that in the future I will have more dreams that will evolve out of the theme of the dolphin. I believe it is the joy and growth that has come through these dreams that is truly the gift of the dolphin.