This time of year reminds me again of the NeoPagan practices I used to do. Most folks call this festival Beltane; I prefer the Ides of Spring. I'm thinking the last full-blown festival I attended was about eight years ago at the Carl Jung Center for Symbolic Studies in New Paltz -- there were horses and giant puppets and fire dancers. This year it already feels a bit like Summer -- it's warm, which is nice, and not unseasonable, but it also feels dryer. For me, the challenge -- especially when I'm feeling the joints in my feet, arms and hands -- is to see beauty in everything.
Dreams: I dreamed I was putting bleach into my hair with my fingers. I'm not sure why, but I had the vague notion that it would put blonde (possibly reddish-blonde) streaks in my hair. I also dreamed that Mark and I and some other folks went on a kind of road trip to a national or Oregon state park. I think we got on train tracks, and the tracks went through a swamp or over a shallow lake. I think there was some vague "do I have a ticket" anxiety. At one point I was at the top of a thick log or tree trunk, which was propped up against a white stucco train station building, and I wasn't sure how I was going to get down if the tree fell -- there wasn't much of a place for handholds. Eventually, I decided that I could slide down the trunk if I needed to.
Writing: Yesterday I did some critique. I was going to finish it up this morning, but that sort of didn't work out so well. Spent about 20 minutes writing things up before it was time for the rest of the morning routine.
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