I Know They're Trying to Tell Me Something

Tuesday, Dec 5:  Lots of magical imagery in my dreams last night/this morning.

I was casting a spell in a cave, after which I met with Leslie the Shrew and had some sort of wise words from a female elder moment.  

There was some other stuff, involving a Mephistopheles like grey-haired man who told me a story of meeting with other gay men in the English Theatre, and an actor he really admired came limping in full costume (I think as King Lear) and everyone was really excited until they realized that he was leading in the Vice Squad.

Then I was in a Handel opera.  The entire cast was led by a baritone in seventeenth century clothes and a white wig.  I think the rest of the cast may have supposed to be shepherds and villagers, but I think they were dressed contemporarily.  The baritone was a prophet, and was singing an aria along the musical lines of "And who shall stand when He appeareth? For He is like a refiner's fire."  Only this was about the apocalypse and he was pointing to a hole in the sky where a middle-aged and matronly Virgin Mary was sitting and presumably intervening for us.

We ascended Ridgewood Hill, and may have gone to it's mysterious dream-North side.  At this point the baritone prophet was singing about how a new earthly paradise could be aborted.  I think the Virgin Mary took a rest from the hole in the sky and came down to Ridgewood... she was dressed in brown, with sort of frazzled brown and grey hair, and I'm sure she said or sang something, but I don't recall what it was.

And then I was at an Episcopal service with my folks and The Child (I don't recall that Mark was there).  The pews were arranged in four arms, and we were in a square chapel.  I want to say that Father Neville (the old rector from the 1970's) was leading the service.  The Child started playing my harp (which he played well), and Father Neville was offering a cup to people, only instead of having the Blood of Christ in it, it was filled with rain water.  I opted to take the cup, and was surprised that the silver chalice had a flat, triangular bowl.  Father Neville jammed the chalice into my face, and I felt the cold metal against  both my lips; I was aware of the points of the triangular bowl as I sipped some of the water.

I woke up thinking that lots of messages were trying to come through.