Been a while since I wrote about a dream and my partner thought this one was significant
I was at some sort of a corroboree, where First Nations men were
bringing food from a shipwreck in a river nestled in a lush, tree-filled valley and that included hot pizza.
When we
sat down to eat in a big venue, it was clear that I was attending with
people I knew from work and saw Ray from the gallery while I was eating prawns.
An older man sat down, seemed to be my manager and he said he was sorry
about the death of my father and how they didn't know what killed him.
I
still had a mouth full of food and he said he'd come back later to talk
about something important.
Later I realised this manager figure looked a lot like my paternal grandfather.
Jo saw this as a
healing dream, where I was supported by male ancestors in a process that
was still occurring through the nourishing quality of eating.
She asked
me to reflect on the role of prawns and, since they were being served
by Ray, and I assume it is a symbol for my creative practices.
I have been thinking lately on how few men engage with the arts and how my guitar-building project could be a way to interest more of a male audience.
The location
of the river with the shipwreck seemed to be the wilder landscape in a
section of the dream from the night before, which was a journey between Sydney and Bega.
Interesting to me is that my grandfather's coast house, where I spent time through my childhood, is in that stretch of the landscape.
