The Power of the Unconscious and REAL Community

I woke at 3:30 a.m. with a dream of being easily able to fly in a crowd of big wig financial wizards, but they weren’t impressed. To them I was most deserving of praise as the “sturdy” and loyal and charming hostess. It was a very strange and awful dream. And what could have thrown me back into this long left behind feeling of not mattering?

I think some recent meetings about the film and its promotion have stirred this up. We’ve been debating increasing our online presence even more beyond this blog, and something about it doesn’t feel quite right.

I love the idea of hosting an on-line “slumber party” where women can voice their fears, inadequacies, and take the baby steps toward greater voice–in their own lives as well as others.

I KNOW that the PRACTICE of the Arts leads to this “voicefulness.” How? To practice music, painting, sculpture, writing, et al is an integrative activity weaving together one’s vision, ones thoughts, ones feelings to the material world–through the use of concrete materials–the brush, hacksaw, needle and thread, paints. Material-Mater-Mother. Yearning for Home, Mother-love…given and received, longing for Making of things, of mattering, knowing that your hand, your heart, your mind lasts beyond death—those are some of the drivers to art. It forces one to “out” one’s inner demons and dreams and thus offers the possibility of true Communication. The possibility of ending the loneliness and isolation haunting so many of us–we women who work so hard for others, for the dreams and good of others and even those of us who “work” for “ourselves” but remain cut off from some parts of ourselves because it is not “practical” or “profitable” to sing old hymns or songs.

So, I love the notion of creating such a community. But, I am unsure about creating it online, in that I personally truly prefer real people in real places actively talking and moving around together. The “on-line” experience seems to abandon the body.

And, I don’t know about you, but my body has furiously powerful demands for moving, feeding, touch, laughter, crying, running, lifting and leaping. It is hard to attend to those needs if one is rapt before a computer, even if it is a great community. Again, I love to paint partly because it is so physical–the mixing of colors, the stirring, and testing and dabbing on and the swirl and dotting of color and more color and the sweeping of great swatches of crimson and blues…and stand back, stand back or you don’t know what you’ve done. Walk around and around to come back to the easel to see the canvas anew.


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