Flying at the Water's Edge
It is dusk in a native island town. There is a celebration at the beach, and everyone is in a festive mood. People are getting their lanterns to take with them on their air balloons or homemade flying machines. I am with a woman. We close our eyes as we stand side by side and enter into a trance. Soon, I can feel the air changing as I breath. We begin to rise. Soon, we are up quite high. I am exhilarated but fear if I open my eyes, it will affect the trance and then we may crash down. I touch her shoulder for connection. As soon as the woman senses my trepidation, we slowly descend and our feet lightly touch the ground. I open my eyes and watch as people float in their balloons with their lanterns. In a distance to the right further down the beach, I can see two people are making an image of an ancient bird woman in white which reminds me of the winged Nike of Samothrace . . . glowing, about to take flight, and a Pre-Columbian golden tumi is levitating next to the bird woman. Both are magnificent, glowing, as everyone watches them ascend in awe.
Spore and the Universe
I run into the green field where I pick up a dandelion spored seed puff. Then, I become a spore—the microcosm in the macrocosm. It all seems so clear to me how we are all made up of energy and life, how we are all the same. A tiny spore is the same as the universe. I notice a large moth’s cocoon casing lying flat on the field and pick it up. I hold it like a sheet while it blows in the wind. I feel joyous and free.
Reviving a Bird
A bird is dying. It is in pieces. I place it in the sun and watch it come alive again. Then it strokes me on my cheek with its colorful feathery wings.
next scene: I watch the black charred bird in pieces in a jar knowing there is still some life there. Everyone else gives up on it. I watch it until it comes together again and turns into a white bird with white and sky blue wings. It comes over to me and strokes me lovingly on the cheeks.