the wild witch
Aug. 24th, 2010 10:05 amI dreamed last night that I lived with a wild witch.
In the dream I am one of several people who live in a house. With us lives a witch who spends most of her time sleeping in special hidden compartments. Though the other residents of the house are transfixed by her when they see her moving about, when she goes back into her compartments to sleep they carry on doing whatever they were doing as if they can't remember she even exists. I can remember her because I do magick myself, but even for me it takes effort of will to remember her every time she goes back into hiding.
One of the other residents of the house, though, is finding she can no longer hide her awareness of the witch from herself and paints a mural depicting the witch in a wild, viny, thorny forest. I warn her that this could well anger the witch the next time she comes out. I suggest she change the face of the woman in her painting so that the witch won't know it's a painting of her. My roommate doesn't care, though; she can no longer stand to hide this knowledge from herself. I don't press the issue either, because I too can no longer stand this state of affairs.
Some other things happen; our town gets a visit from President Franklin Roosevelt and I am able to get a front-row seat at his town hall meeting. Not too long into the meeting, though, everyone stops and looks in the direction of the house where I live. The witch has come out and seen the mural, and her reaction sends a shock wave of awareness through everyone for miles around. Everyone returns their attention to the meeting then, as if that moment had never happened, but I knew I'd better return to the house, frustrated that I didn't get to talk to President Roosevelt.
I believed that I could talk to the witch where no one else could, calm down her fury and help her to understand that she is welcome to live openly with us. When, however, I arrive at the thorny thicket outside the house where she has gone, she jumps at me, and is so frightening and feral that I wake up.
In the dream I am one of several people who live in a house. With us lives a witch who spends most of her time sleeping in special hidden compartments. Though the other residents of the house are transfixed by her when they see her moving about, when she goes back into her compartments to sleep they carry on doing whatever they were doing as if they can't remember she even exists. I can remember her because I do magick myself, but even for me it takes effort of will to remember her every time she goes back into hiding.
One of the other residents of the house, though, is finding she can no longer hide her awareness of the witch from herself and paints a mural depicting the witch in a wild, viny, thorny forest. I warn her that this could well anger the witch the next time she comes out. I suggest she change the face of the woman in her painting so that the witch won't know it's a painting of her. My roommate doesn't care, though; she can no longer stand to hide this knowledge from herself. I don't press the issue either, because I too can no longer stand this state of affairs.
Some other things happen; our town gets a visit from President Franklin Roosevelt and I am able to get a front-row seat at his town hall meeting. Not too long into the meeting, though, everyone stops and looks in the direction of the house where I live. The witch has come out and seen the mural, and her reaction sends a shock wave of awareness through everyone for miles around. Everyone returns their attention to the meeting then, as if that moment had never happened, but I knew I'd better return to the house, frustrated that I didn't get to talk to President Roosevelt.
I believed that I could talk to the witch where no one else could, calm down her fury and help her to understand that she is welcome to live openly with us. When, however, I arrive at the thorny thicket outside the house where she has gone, she jumps at me, and is so frightening and feral that I wake up.