For the Files: Oneiric Record Keeping

Dreamwork journals for Rite of Oneiric Insight participants.

On May 23 I hosted a second Rite of Oneiric Insight. It seems to me it is important to keep record of these, or something. 

This time I kept the arrangements & ceremonial format the same, but I made the journals myself because I could not find any that suited my sense of aesthetic or purpose. Maybe this was best anyways, because I found the process of creation meditative & revealing. I am finding art & ceremony are inseparable for me.

People resemble cats when it comes to certain kinds of commitments. Inside, outside, inside, outside... ad nauseam. I prefer it when people do not make commitments until they are certain & actually committed. This may be more common with commitments that cause a feeling of ambiguity. I understand a fear of the unknown -- I have it too, plenty -- but do not engage me with it. Instead, rather, come to me when you have surrendered to your decision -- when you have decided you are in it to win it, not when you are still doing the hokey pokey. 

I always disliked that dance.

At the end of two weeks of hokey pokey, one woman (out of four) attended this particular rite. She was in it to win it & in the end of it all, she was the only one who was supposed to be there. We must trust in these things. 

I plan to repeat this rite using this format one more time (why? I don't know, I just know), then I will likely work another meditation, perhaps one more closely tied to manifesting. Perhaps there will be other changes as well. Also as time progresses, I will continue to add to the Dream Shrine which has already evolved significantly. 

Static does not seem to me to be the natural way of things, but rather subtle, sensible evolution should be allowed to occur, organically, spontaneously. There is always room for thoughtful, conscious adjustment. This, among other things is what distinguishes my work from that of a traditionalist. I cannot claim a pedigree or even a pedagogy. I can only claim what is mine.  

Dreamwork journal bindings:
"Alis volat propriis," "She flies with her own wings."

Moonrise in a Dreamworld

Fresh from a night of adventure, not the least of which was this outstanding moment:

We are descending a mountainous region in the tropics. My husband & others are in the lead, while I am taking the rear, following behind the partner of a girlfriend. I am under the impression that we are in Jamaica, although I have never been to Jamaica, nor do I know if it is in fact mountainous. (The environs very much resemble Dominica for which I have great fondness). 

It is night & quite dark, yet somehow we are still able to navigate & negotiate the trek. 

We are coming upon a sizable ravine spanned by a wooden suspension bridge. The front of the party has already made their passage across the slatted, aerial walkway -- J & myself have yet to make the traverse. Just as we reach the lip of the crevasse, he abruptly stops, reaching his hand back in a silent gesture to wait. 

He tilts his head, looking upward -- to the sky? To the top of the unnaturally large (also admittedly out of context) black spruce across the gorge? Using something as his guide marker(s), he points his finger up and in a short arc down to a particular point along the distant, mountainous horizon.

As if on cue -- save for a moment's hesitation (fashionably late?) -- the Moon begins to crest the dark ridge, glowing, resplendent. Our ever familiar, luminous beauty.  For a moment we watch Her rise in silence & I wonder to myself how it is that he knows Her so well, for it seems a bit out of character. Then, as if answering an unspoken command, we both grab our cameras & play paparazzi to the Moon.

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 3: Reflections

Some quick notes on the Rite of Oneiric Insight (for the files).

"Dream Drawers" in varying stages of production.
A project initiated & further inspired by the Rite of Oneiric Insight.

It is all in the intent.


I attend a dream circle led by a very astute & intelligent attorney who has been journaling & doing dream work since the early 1990's. During a discussion of dreams, dreamwork & how we understand, interpret & relate to our dreams, the attention turned to me. All eyes in my direction, I gestured as though I was placing a hat on my head & said, "Time to put on my crazy hat..." And I offered perhaps a more candid explanation to that group of relative strangers than I would to people closer to me. I had expected eyebrows to raise, or faces to glaze over, but instead the response was, "It is all in the intent."

And so there we have it. I just needed to say it.


A few reflections on the inaugural Rite of Oneiric Insight:

My people:
My (deliberately) small group was comprised of four participants, plus myself as officiant. The group was diverse with ages ranging from approximately 30 to over 60, three women & one man, representing multiple ethnic backgrounds, occupations & spiritual leanings. Two have inclinations toward shamanism -- one modern or "neo-shamanic," one vis-a-vis culture/heritage. One participant has a proclivity for Hellenic practice & the another is a seasoned dream worker. Everyone had their own understanding/interpretation of this journey & everyone had wonderful reflections & energy to contribute.

The Cards Don't Lie:
One of my participants was feeling leery about attending & waffled hot & cold over the week, primarily because of the elixir -- having a sensitive disposition, she was nervous about consuming it. I told her she could participate without drinking it & she agreed to this condition. Since I only had three drinking horns, I told her that was convenient & I would make her some chamomile tea instead. But, when she arrived, she had changed her mind, as she is wont to do & decided the elixir would be fine. I replied that since she is so fickle, she didn't get a drinking horn this time. She also neglected to bring her hearing aids, so she missed much of my introduction, the ceremony & basically all of the visualization despite my careful placement of her head nearly in my lap. 

When the time came to draw cards, she was the only participant to draw a Gate of Ivory. 

I sent her home with the script for the visualization journey & she recorded it for herself, repeating the journey using headphones, with more success (I hope). 

An Inspiration from Offering:
My personal offering was a small apothecary chest which had been fashioned as an advent calendar. I planned to convert the chest into a small, portable shrine for dream ceremony-ing, painting it with a simple black exterior, maybe putting it on feet. I felt the simplicity of the shape & design allowed the personal imagination to operate uninfluenced by specific iconography, with the drawers representing the multitude of possibilities in the dreamworld & also functioning as containers for offerings amassed over time.

The night of the rite, I dreamt of images on the drawers of the chest, each representing various themes, landscapes, concepts one might encounter in the dreamworld. Thus, a new variation on the shrine was born -- the box will probably remain a night sky black while the drawers will each bear a different symbolic image. I also considered using each of the first four people who participated with me as muse for a drawer face. (The drawer with musical composition in the image above was inspired by one of the participants.) 

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 2: Cartomancy & Visualization

Cards used for divination in Rite of Oneiric Insight
(Gate of Ivory, Back, Gate of Horn, respectively)
Gate designs by artist Amanda Kiefer. 

Notes on a couple important details for "The Rite of Oneiric Insight": 

Cartomancy:

In Duncan Barford's Rite of Morpheus, he employs a divinatory technique which involves blindfolded attendees choosing to walk toward one or another corner of the room & then revealing to them which Oneiric gate the corner signifies. I hesitated to follow this technique for several reasons, one of which was the simple fact that I had set the room up in the form of a large bedspace & it would be a hazard to try to have people stumble about blindfolded in loose bedding. The other primary reason is that I placed a great deal more emphasis on the visualization portion of this rite & I didn't particularly want to rouse people so abruptly after a long guided meditation.

Instead, I created a deck of cards which contains only two faces: Gate of Ivory or Gate of Horn. All the backs are identical, of course & I laminated them for longer wear. I gave each attendee a muslin pouch into which they would later put a clary sage steeped cloth & mugwort herb, but before that, they needed to select one of the two cards I had placed in their pouch. I did not dictate how they should do this, only that they should consider carefully their forthcoming dreams with great focus. Some selected right from the bag, others took them out, shuffled & spread them. The result were quite incredible, but I will save that story for "Rite of Oneiric Insight Part 3: Reflections." 


Visualization:

The verbiage used for the visualization's beginning & ending, that is, the relaxing entry into a meditative state & the gentle reentry in to the waking world was borrowed & adapted from several of Jody Whiteley's sleep hypnosis videos & scripts including, but not limited to:

Sleep Hypnosis Hypnotic Bedtime Story for Self Confidence Self Esteem
Sleep Hypnosis for Lucid Dreaming a Free Hypnosis Script
Morning Meditation by Jody Whiteley
Sleep Hypnosis for Self Confidence (newest version)
Sleeping Under Red Eleven (Google Drive)

The body of the dreamwork visualization, or the "Journey to the House of Sleep," I composed using excerpts from a variety of sources including:

Metamorphoses Book XI:573-649 The House of Sleep (A. S. Kline's Version)
Homer, Odyssey 19. 562 ff (trans. Shewring)
Charles K. Dillaway, Roman Antiquities & Ancient Mythology for Classical Schools (2nd ed)

The Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi found within the visualization I adapted from "Dream" by Kimberly Nichols as published in "The Sacred Songs of Orpheus IV: Ares to Death," in Newtopia Magazine.

The text of the visualization (journey body only) is below. Please note that I have omitted the meditation entry & reentry out of respect for Jody Whiteley & her work. My adjustments to her compositions was minimal -- only small to adaptions for context & sequencing of events were made.


"Journey to the House of Sleep" 
A Visualization for Rite of Oneiric Insight

(Relaxation/Meditation Entry Omitted)

"...you can see where you are going now is some place darker and more mysterious and you can hear the faint sounds of ocean breezes and see a twilight sky and the starry cloak of mother Nyx closes over the scene above you until you are looking at the canopy of Night’s heavens and you come to rest upon the soft earth amongst a swath of tall grasses and wildflowers… and as you land, the wispy, green undergrowth, rustles and scratches the sides of your bed that bumps softly twice and it lands to tamp down the foliage to one side, maybe its your left side, there is a path roughly carved into this bluffy landscape and a door has opened beside your bed to invite you to take a little stroll down this path which leads away from the ocean, bending up over a rise, out of sight and you are curious about what you might find across this meadow so you get up out of your bed or your chair and take a walk along this path… 

big gap… 

The trail is very slightly sandy and feels soft and warm beneath your feet and it is slightly damp, but the air is dry and comfortably cool, not chilly. You near the top of the rise in the path and as you do, the sounds of the sea become a little bit quieter and you notice that the breezes have begun to ebb, slowly and softly disappearing into stillness. 

You keep walking in the dim light of the starry sky and when you reach the crest of the hill, you are amazed to see the Moon has broken over the horizon to highlight a wide, low valley, bathed in blooming poppies and sleepy herbs, drowsy plants from whose juices dew-dappled Night gathers sleep, and scatters it over the darkened earth… at the center of this blanket of ethereal, luminescent flowers is a hollow mountain with a deeply cut cave… 

As you begin your descent along the path into the valley, you notice that the sounds of the world around you have disappeared…  

And you become aware that you are now approaching the House of Sleep, a place where perpetual stillness reigns, no noise being heard but the soft murmur of a small fork of the river Lethe, which creeps over the loose pebbles, and invites you to slumber… 

Here, in Hypnos’s sanctuary, silence dwells. In this place of complete peace, you will find no guardians…
No waking cockerel summons Aurora with his crowing,
no dog disturbs the silence with its anxious barking,
no geese cackle their sharp alert…
No beasts, or cattle, or branches in the breeze,
no clamour of human tongues.
Only the flow of Lethe’s stream, murmuring and calling you to drowse… 

As you come closer to the cave entrance, clouds mix with fog, and shadows of the half-light are exhaled from the ground, and through the soft haze, perhaps in the corner of your eye, you think you might see two grandly adorned gates, fading in and out of the shadows. And you remember that somewhere, sometime, someone told you about these gates, these gates somewhere beyond the North Wind… the Gate of Horn and the Gate of Ivory, from which Dreams emerge…

And you know, somehow, in some way, that there are no doors in this palace and that beyond the mouth of this open cave, if were you to travel through the mouth of this cave, lies a tall bed made of ebony, a downy nest, spread with a dark-hued coverlet, where the god of Sleep himself reclines, his limbs relaxed in slumber… his head surrounded by fantastic visions… 

But you have not come here to have an audience with the drowsy god, you have come to meet the Oneiroi, the dream spirits who gather round him and lie, here and there in the soft, quiet darkness of his bedchamber… uncertain dreams, taking different forms, as many as the ears of corn at harvest, as the trees bear leaves, or grains of sand are strewn across the shores… 

Standing a few yards from the entrance, you pause for a moment and observe your surroundings… could this place be a dream? And this is when you remember why you came here… Yes, to honor the dream spirits that rest here and depart through the spectral gates to offer their visions while we sleep… You reach into your pocket and find a paper, a paper with a hymn printed upon it… It is Hymn to the Oneiroi, and you take a deep breath, filling your nostrils and your lungs with the heavy scent of Sleep’s landscape, and you begin to recite… 

Swift-winged dreams, Oneiroi,
messengers of the stars,
oracles to the human mind,
in the sweet silence of sleep
you arrive without a sound
speaking to the soul…
Whispering, you rouse the senses,
in our slumber you reveal to us
the will of the Blessed Ones.
Sincere souls that take the honest way
of devotion to the divine,
you silently show
glimpses of distant tomorrows.
Good wins every race
in mortal minds.
Good leads our lives
to anticipated pleasures,
and relieves our suffering
so the spirits can reveal
the mysteries of Their domain.
The sincere always end more sweetly,
but the insincere remain blind,
pensive with fears,
their respite from pain is never revealed.
In all things bring us closer
to the noble path.
Reveal the concealed
signatures of fate.
Let no strange apparitions
show us signs of ill omen.
We call to you, beloved Ones,
show us the will of the gods. 

In the tranquil silence of the Moonlit landscape, you sense a stirring from within the very heart of the mountain. This stirring you sense from within, with your intuition, your second sight, because the cave is too dark, this place too quiet for you to discern the movements with your well-used senses. Fixing your eyes on the mountain’s yawning mouth, you wait… 

And with a sudden, silent rush there emerges a flood of airborne creatures, a surging wind of dark forms on the wing… birds, bats, or angels of the Night sky — how many ways can we know Them? They surge into the fog, and if you look, not with your eyes, you might see them leaving through the gates, a fluttering, torrent fading into the shadows… 

The softest breeze brushes your cheeks and flutters down your body and you know this sensation must be the passing of some of these dream spiritits, making their passage into the the realm we call the unconscious… 

Something tells you it is time to return to the path and begin your departure from this sleepy valley, but before you turn away from the House of Sleep, you look once more at your hymnal page. You notice it has changed. Take a moment to trace that page into your memory so that you may carry it back with you to a place of wakefulness…"

(Closing/Reentry Ommitted)

One final note: The Ceremony Pamphlet with Hymns, Outline & Credits in  printable PDF format is available HERE via Google Drive.

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 1: General Outline

"Greek Dream" by Jacqueline Kurfürst of DeviantArt.

It is nothing but incredible that I (somehow, by some providence) made this happen before the deadline I set (in a vow of sorts) arrived.

And because I am in the habit of bogging down all my ceremonial documentation with colossal amounts of detail, I am going to begin with an outline of pertinent bits, lest I lose track of things in a rabbit hole along the way... 

The short version of the story is this: there is nothing in the ancient calendars to follow if one wishes to observe a special period of observation for the Oneiroi. So I decided that National Sleep Awareness Week, as established by the National Sleep Foundation was just perfect. Last year it was March 3-10 & I just flailed. Or wasn't ready. Or something. So I vowed to get it figured out by this year.

And here we are. National Sleep Awareness Week: March 2-8, 2015. 

Last night I hosted the first of many (I hope) ceremonies I entitled: "Rite of Oneiric Insight" which I confess isn't the most imaginative name, but it gets to the point. 

This rite has two purposes: 1) to offer respect & gratitude to the gods/spirits of the House of Sleep & their mother Nyx & 2) to request their favor in the form of illuminating &/or prophetic dreams. 

I borrowed ideas from a slew of sources including Duncan Barford, Jody Whiteley & Robert Moss to name a few. And, if I get to the details, I will give all the various sources their due recognition. But for now, just the essentials (my actual rough outline/recordkeeping for this rite):


Rite of Oneiric Insight

General Outline:

Guest arrival & briefing.
Cleansing. (Wash hands and face)
Light lamp or candle, recite Orphic Hymn to Nyx. (Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977)
Light incense.

Make personal supplications &/or thanksgivings.
Libation & hypnagogic tea/elixir.
Visualization with Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi. (Adapted from Kimberly Nichols, 2013)
Cartomancy.
Closing & direction for Personal Sleep Ceremony.
Extinguish lamp or candle.

Direction for at home procedure:

Personal Sleep Ceremony: 
Light candle.
Recite Orphic Hymn to Sleep. (Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977) 
Extinguish candle.
Morning journaling. (Communication, if desired)

Preparations:

(4) Face towels & washcloths w/soaps, moisturizer
Candle, incense & offerings
(4) Small (approx. 4 oz.) Drinking Horns 
Hypnagogic “Elixir” (herbal formula prepared in advance)
Visualization script
Deck of cards for divination — 2 faces: Gate of Horn, Gate of Ivory
(4) Dream Journals
Pamphlets containing Orphic hymns & ceremony outline
(4) Extra sheets with Orphic Hymn #3 to Nyx
(4) Muslin bags to contain: Clary Sage steeped cotton squares, mugwort herb (optional) 
(4) Beeswax & poppy seed offering candles

Music:
Foretold in the Language of Dreams, Natacha Atlas (during introductions, preparation, pre-visualization)
8 Hours Relaxation Music Sleep Study Meditation and Good Dreams, Jody Whiteley (during visualization/guided journey)

Set/Setting:
I used the living room of the Agora, our community center (a community-funded single bedroom apartment). The setting was intentionally cozy, my partner called it "opium den-ish." There was no "shrine" or "altar" proper, per se -- only a ribbon candle & an offering bowl. (I consciously decided not to bring my statue of Nyx because I didn't feel that imposing my own image of the goddess was appropriate to this very individual experience. I later received the feedback from one attendee that she would have liked to have had the icon present.)

Attendance:
The number of attendees was strictly limited. Everyone who attended was "prescreened" as it were, by a letter stating the expectations & intent very clearly. This was my way of getting around the concern that people might attend out of spectator-desire versus a genuine interest in dreamwork &/or developing a relationship with the House of Sleep. 


Images of the pamphlets can be found below. I will make the printable PDF file available via Google Drive in the near future. I will also post images of the cards used for divination, the visualization script as well as share my reflections... time willing. 

"Rite of Oneiric Insight" pamphlet, outside panels

"Rite of Oneiric Insight" pamphlet, inside panels

Now, to dance.

Sleeping with Jody

The High Priestess, so sleepy, from the Portico Tarot
by Elizabeth Jordan Leggett.

My absence from writing in the last few months has been fueled by several factors, among them, an extraordinarily active three year old, the loss of the charger to my camera (which I realize now, is an important part of my "voice"), copious amounts of dancing, the co-creation of a large public Animist Solstice Ceremony & Ecstatic Dance event & perhaps most importantly, a profound desire to SLEEP.

This preoccupation with sleep & in particular, dreaming, is nothing new, I have always been a fan. How avidly I pursue the occupation fluctuates over time. Right now, I really dig it. 

During the early stirrings of this most recent bout of sleep fever, I revisited a lucid dreaming video I had watched a couple of years earlier & recalling that I had liked it relatively well. When I listened to it again, it occurred to me that this voice that went by the name of Jody Whiteley, may have produced other videos... & by godz, she has. In the two years since I first encountered her work, she has expanded her collection of videos to over 300 (I think). Her offerings span the gamut, from anxiety to wish fulfillment (& plenty of subjects in between). 

After several months of having this quirky, brilliant presence in our bedrooms on a regular basis, everyone in our household is a keen enthusiast. If I were into gurus, I'd sign on as a disciple. But since I am not, I will just make a spot for her on the Dreaded "Guru Board."

I kept thinking I would write her a thank you letter, but during the mental composition, I decided she would prefer if I just shared my appreciation of her & her work with others. So, to keep is short & sweet, I will offer up an abbreviated list of the reasons why I love Jody Whiteley:

1. She has a wonderful sense of humour.
2. Her ability to assist with dream recall is remarkable.
3. She can put the children to sleep with time lapse illustration like no other.
4. She has helped me markedly improve my skills & confidence as a dancer, while sleeping.
5. She too believes in magic.
6. Although I have never actually used one (yet), I just like knowing that she has made 8 & 10 hour (!) long hypnosis videos.
7. Waking up with Jody is a great way to start the day. Really.
8. I dig her guided meditations (although I never make it to the end because I fall asleep).
9. Her hypnotic bedtime stories work, especially for children.
10. The fact that she has stills of strange, otherworldly rocks set to strange, otherworldly music makes me happy. 
11. She gave me a name for my ASMR, an epiphany which I will elucidate upon more fully very soon.
12. Did I mention that she has a wonderful sense of humour? Even in her dreams.

I will close this love letter to Jody Whiteley by sharing the trailer to her epic dream video, Sleep Hypnosis THE MOVIE Full Length Movie 2013 (I never tire of this dream story) & by saying thank you. Thank you Jody. I will go make you a sandwich anytime, with pleasure.

(We listen to the videos in bed using the YouTube phone app. It is a very different experience that way, with out the advertisements, popups & whatnot. I recommend it, if you have the option.)

Animist Blog Carnival: Dreams

Four of Swords
from the Mountain Dream Tarot by Bea Nettles.

Welcome to the Animist Blog Carnival for March, 2014 -- The Dream edition!

I will begin by mentioning that when Heather told me she felt she was being pressed to have a Dream ABC in March (& that I was the natural host), it hadn't occurred to me that the first week of March, 2nd thru the 9th is, in the U.S. at least, National Sleep Awareness Week. I had already planned to begin using this time as a special dreamwork & devotional period, but like a good little forgetter, I forgot. But, I remembered in time... & what delightfully auspicious timing! 

We have a more modest collection of writings for this month. But, being an avid dreamer, I am not at all surprised. I find more often than not, when I begin to prattle about dreams, the response is invariably, "I don't dream," or "I never/rarely remember my dreams." However, I also find that those people who are in tune with the dreamworld never disappoint in their storytelling. 

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Brian at Animist Jottings offered up two different essays relating to dreams.  

Animist Dreaming contrasts the multi-layered relationships people in hunter-gatherer societies have with their dreams against the relative lack of relationship, or merely speculative relationship to dreams & dreaming characteristic of modern, Western cultures:

"Modernist psychologists have, nevertheless, often dismissed them as random by-products of REM sleep physiology.  Even when acknowledging that dreams might be meaningful, psychologists and anthropologists have tended to treat them as objects that can be recorded and analysed without reference to their cultural or personal context.
Western psychoanalytic traditions have, of course, engaged with the meaning of dreams in various ways, but my preference is for approaches that let dreams speak for themselves, and, crucially, that acknowledge the potential reality of dream visitors."

Brian also mentions various alternative approaches to dreams, dreamwork & dream interpretation including the work of James Hillman (among my personal favorites, so will I give him this shameless promotion): 

"James Hillman called for an underworld perspective, ‘an attitude of unknowing’ that ‘leaves room for the phenomenon itself to speak’.  We should stay with a dream image, rather than dragging it into the day world of theoretical interpretation.  Dreams arise from ancestral and imaginal depths and reflect ‘the hiding invisibilities that govern our lives’." 

In A Kingfisher Dream, Brian's writing becomes very personal as he unwinds a synchronous chain of dreams & waking day events seemingly precipitated by the rescue of a Kingfisher at a local pond. He recounts this tale as only Brian can:  

"Quite soon I was transfixed by a crystal clear image, in my binoculars, at unusually close range, of a female bird backlit by low winter sun.  The light alternately caught her sapphire/cobalt/green, back and wings -the colour shifts as the kingfisher moves due to the microstructure of the feathers rather than pigment (the so called blaustruktur or Tyndall’s effect)- etched a phosphorescent silver-blue arc against the dark backdrop of the canal lock as she dived, and outlined her fluffed-up warm orange/ochre breast in molten gold as she turned towards me.  There was a strong sense of restless tension as the bird examined the swirling waters with her dark needle sharp eye."

And his bold conclusion reverberates in my mind as it rings true of my own experiences with the dreamworld:

"From a Cartesian/mechanist-materialist point of view these experiences would only seem to be connected by random co-incidence.  From a divinatory/animist perspective it seems to me that they were connected by meaning, purpose, intention, action, and relationship." 

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Heather at Eearth Animist offered up a treatise on "dream types" & her experiences with them, Dreams: Intrapersonal and Interpersonal. This is a particularly meaty piece in which she tosses out bits of brilliance like popcorn in a parade. Instead of offering a single blurb, I will leave you with a smattering of teasers. I cannot help myself: 

"By age 13 I was less than impressed with Jung. I could not see how a white European educated privileged man with access only to his cultural references could create the Collective Unconscious."

"Time exists because I often describe past dream events to current dream people. It’s a living map of where I have been, who I have known and what I have done, the last one being in the dreamscape."

"Most of my dreams are “digestion dreams.” ...There is nothing to learn from these. However they are the sort of things archeologists shift through to learn about a culture, like how looking at an animal’s scat can tell you what they ate."

"I so tired of the dream genre, I sat down and said I refused to continue. My mind was not expecting that. I tricked my own mind. The landscape wavered a bit, but nothing replaced it, because my mind was confused because I changed the rules of the dream."

"Is it a dream if it is happening in Awake Land? I was asleep, so I suppose so, but…. This touches on major new animism topics: nonduality, vast diversity, and monist interlinking. Sleep Land and Awake Land can overlap. Instead of being different worlds, they are different parts of the same MoreWorld."

"...That dream like anything… divine caused me to feel awe, awesome, awful, awestruck."

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Matty at Nature is Sacred gives us an historical overview, Animism and Dreams, of dreams as understood in early human, animist & shamanic cultures followed by a treatment of various Western psychological, anthropological & sociological theories & perspectives on the various functions of dreams for the human animal. He concludes with an animist perspective & (an often overlooked!) tip of the hat to daydreams :

"Like ancient animists, I believe that dreams are important... because they can reveal to us valuable insights about our lives. I believe that we should regularly day dream to help us be more creative and deal with problems. And I believe that dreams can be part of a process of psychological healing for us when necessary."

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And at Mythic Cartography... Willem, oh Willem... what do we say? How will we answer the question? His invitation is palpable as he leaves you STANDING AT THE DOOR OF THE HOOP:

“All the paths in your palm seek to return to the pulse in your wrist, just as all the rivers in the world seek the ocean. Every Spring, a door opens again. How many more times will it open? No one knows. Few more indeed for your kind... Behind this door beats the heart of the original human places. Which means the original wild places of course. The ancient invisible gardens of wasteland and wilderness, rich with food and comfort for those who have eyes to see..."

How will you receive this breathtaking invitation?

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Finally, here at Pray to the Moon, I have been working steadily on another devotional project (this one virtual) involving mother Nyx & her children, specifically Hypnos & the Oneiroi. I will be building upon that over the course of this "Sleep Week" as well as into the future. My plan was to unveil a portion of that along with this Carnival. But, as I was working on some images for Morpheus, I stumbled upon an older post (of epic proportions) which I simply could not ignore. Curiously, I had completely & utterly forgotten that I wrote this beast:  Transforming "Spiritual Warfare": Day 33 (Ohio) [A Photo-filled Magickal DIY of Epic Proportions] 

This post was one of my "Transforming 'Spiritual Warfare'" aka. Mushroom Hatred Remediation Program entries, a lengthy undertaking which involved a curious combination of dreamwork, remote land & art awareness, magick & mycophilia. It is an extensive walkthru of my technique (which, at that time was already 32 workings into the process) for using dream incubation as a platform for spellwork... animist-fueled, fungi-driven spellwork. 

Of all the quotes I could take from this piece, I will just leave you with this:

"Ah, & you thought you were weird..."

So, please enjoy the Carnival & thank you for attending! If you dig it, hop on the bandwagon & join us at headquarters: Animist Blog Carnival (free to good home!)

ABC: We're Still Sleeping

"Somnus" by Perham Wilhelm Nahl.
Image from the de Young|Legion of Honor Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco.

If you didn't get the memo (& we did send out a memo), we're still sleeping. 

We've set the alarm for Monday, March 3rd. So start the week off dreaming with us & the Dreams edition of the Animist Blog Carnival. 

And please, if you have a dreamy piece to contribute, send it to momafauna (at) gmail (dot) com before Monday Alaska time. We take poetry, prose, visual art, ramblings, meanderings, wanderings, lucid & not-so-lucid works of all kinds. 

For the Files: "Feral Hermeticism"

Dream notes to self, for the files:

Despite the absence of any dreamwork effort on my part, the dreams seem to be demanding more of my attention. Last night, I was introduced to a term, "Feral Hermeticism." It appeared in several conversations, across multiple dreams. I was instructed to remember it into the waking hour & I was given the impression it is of import somehow, yet I do not know what it means. 

For the Files: Finding Refuge in the Nightmare?

Dream notes to self, for the files:

I woke from what seemed to be a very long, strangely significant dream in the early a.m. April 12. Being a great lover of dreaming & sleep, I rarely take the time to write down dreams because I would rather resume the program. Occasionally however, the dreams seem to demand otherwise. This dream haunted me as awakened. It haunted me as I attempted to return to sleep. It felt like I had received an important message. It contained several people I know in this life, which is unusual. It contained symbolic references to some matters at hand in my community, but more importantly, it also seems to have some bearing on my relationship to Morpheus -- a relationship for which I maintain a blend of gratitude & ambivalence. I could not find my notebooks in the dark, so notes ended up scrawled in coloured pencil in my child's sketchbook. This is what I wrote, for the files:

Night (only fragments of memory remaining)

• The High Priest is here.
• I am outside a greenhouse-like tent aglow in the dark. It is filled with people in celebration of some kind... a wedding? a festive dinner party? 
• No. It is a church revival, a jubilee. 
• The H.P. tells me to stay outside, safe in the dark. He will go inside & take care of what needs to be done.
• We all (who else?) stay in this area overnight, awaiting Sunrise in some kind of dormitory. (I stay in dormitories more often than not in my dreams.)

Morning

• The High Priest & High Priestess are here.
• Where is my family?!? Where is my husband, where are my children?
• There is no response via cell phone. 
• Cold, cold, so cold with fear. Something is wrong (my husband is never without his phone).
• I must, we must find them. 
• Maybe they went to NoHo (an abbreviation for Northampton, Massachusetts).
• In NoHo, we watch people, families go by, searching for mine.
• People keep trying to help, offering me children who are passing by. "No, no, no, they are not mine," I say.
• I recall thinking that NoHo is really nice & that we should visit here as a family, bring the kids here someday...

In the Bank (the transition from NoHo, if there was one, was lost)

• I am alone.
• I am in line to conduct important business.
• The three bank tellers keep switching stations. Lines continually form & re-form, following their seemingly random repositioning. I keep losing my place.
• I am in a hurry, desperate to finish business & find my family. 
• I am very aware that this is a foreign town -- aware of being an outsider & I sense a mild antagonism, or suspicion towards me, especially each time the lines re-form & positions change.
• People in line become increasingly hostile in general & I try to remain unobtrusive. 
• The security guard locks the doors & dims the lights, signaling that the bank will be closing soon for lunch break. I ask if that means we will be served & I am told yes, they are completing transactions for people inside but are not taking any more customers until after lunch.
• The woman in front of me & to the left, a portly brunette in a short ponytail & plaid shirt turns around & gets in my face about people who drive big trucks & SUVs, insinuating that I am one of them. I tell her that I drive a station wagon. She diffuses into a thin, mature woman reminiscent of Nancy Reagan, wearing a madras dress with an oversized collar. She gives me a big hug. I find this unsettling, but do not betray my feelings.
• The lines re-form a final time, leaving me second in the far right line. 
• I notice that there are more people waiting in the bank than there were when the doors were locked. People are crowding in the line, they are crowding around me. They seem to have taken note of the shuffling of positions & I feel like some of them want my spot.
• All of the people are in black & white except for the two closest to me. One is a man in a green felt hat -- a tall, rounded gnome-style hat -- with a very full, rich brown beard & moustache & piercing brown eyes. The other is the woman in the madras dress.
• The woman in the madras dress has a smile that seems to be painted on her face (not literally) & she keeps hugging me. I was able to ignore it earlier, but now I feel like a cornered animal & her hugs feel vaguely violating. I say to her loudly --enough for others to hear -- but with control, "It is very sweet of you to want to hug me, but you know it is not normal to be putting your arms around strangers in a public place, don't you?" She seems to fade a bit & become less relevant. 
• The man brown & green man tells me, "I really like how you drop off the ladies at the bookstore every day." His words are carried in a lascivious tone & he is leering without actually leering. The implications are clear enough to me. Everyone is staring, listening, waiting for my reply. Once again, I feel cornered. I am angered by him, but I remain controlled. "I'm sorry, but you have the wrong person. I do not live here. I am from the North, from lizard country."
• I see a map. The North country is dappled with places & land features named after lizards, their reptilian kin & their prehistoric ancestors. Looking at the map, I notice that its shape & borders are reminiscent of the state of Wyoming. I know that this place is very familiar, but it is not my own. For the sake of protection, I am lying.
• Phobetor. (It comes to my mind clearly & with force.)
• I tell the brown & green man (or, at least I think to tell him) that I am from Phobetor, or the kingdom thereof. I know that this man will recognize this place. He will also not be of it. I know that it will carry implications which will keep me safe. I know this word, but I cannot remember what it means. I know it is important, very important. I struggle to remember, but I cannot grasp the meaning. It does not matter now, as long as I am safe.

Something wakes me -- my baby, my bladder, something. I hear "Phobetor" echoing in my ears. Disoriented & confused, I get out of bed & use the restroom. I check the time. It is 2:22. I attempt to return to sleep, but the dream & it's symbols do not allow for it. I blunder about the house in search of a notepad which I will not find because I suddenly feel a powerful need to return to the bedroom. This dream has left me afraid of the dark.

On Phobetor: Phobetor is one of the Oneiroi, the dark-winged daimones or spirits of dreams. Ovid states that the gods call him I'celos, but men call him Phobetor: "...here below the tribe of mortals call him Phobetor." (Metamorphoses 11. 585) Phobetor means "to be feared" & he is the shaper of dreams which come to man, hence his name. He is brother to Morpheus, but unlike his brother who assumes the shapes of men, Phobetor "...forms the beasts and birds and the long sliding snakes." (Metamorphoses 11. 585)

"Phobetor," by Italian artist, Beatrice Riva.
Discovering this piece chilled my blood by a few degrees --
here is the face of the brown & green man in my dream.

For The Files: Morel Dreams.

A note to self, for the files:

Some time in the dissatisfaction of this early morning, after countless awakenings to cat caterwauling, stealing of food & toys on the kitchen counter, Changeling tossing & turning, Little Lad willfully contorting about in my bed because he does not want to sleep alone...

I recall being disappointed in the dream, in whatever happenings had preceded the thought. I walk over a peculiarly green rise as I wander. I can hear the family behind me. This is unusual, since I very rarely dream of them. I am thinking I am done with this dream, that there is nothing here & we are leaving it when I find the most incredible morels growing in great clusters on the far side of the rise. Against the technicolor "grass" they are very large & tall, like quarts of milk. Their dark chocolate brown bodies are accented with a glowing "blogger orange" highlighting  along the network of ridges on the "cap." It seems to me that somehow the dark brown portions are glowing as well. Can dark glow? I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement & satisfaction. I show them to the family. The Lad & I kneel beside them, beaming. Everyone is elated. I am now resolved with this dream & it fades to dark.

I am left wishing I could paint. These mushrooms ought to be manifested somehow, somewhere, beyond my memory. I am also left wondering, am I really that simple? Mushrooms = complete satisfaction?

"Morel encounter" by DevianteFlap of DeviantART.
This looks absolutely nothing like my dream. At all. But I couldn't resist.

For the Files: A Dream -- Swimming with Fire

I am taking a moment to record a dream I had last night during that thin, vibrant, active dream period just before falling into deep sleep. Some dream experts say this is one of the best times to practice lucid dreaming. I always find myself too mentally disorganized to utilize that particular window of opportunity to practice lucid dreaming, but last night I was disrupted out of pre-sleep long enough to recall the imagery. I don't really have any thoughts on what it meant, though I have no doubt it holds some meaning. Mostly, I found it very reassuring, so I save it here, for the files.

I was swimming in a very slowly moving stream which was wide, relatively deep & very clear. The ambient light was quite bright & could see the stones at bottom; very large, red, brown & orange cobbles, some with algal growth on them. I was very comfortable & relaxed. I wore a plain white gown, or shift. I swam upstream underwater effortlessly & without need to rise to the surface for air. As I swam, I held my (right?) arm extended before me & in my hand I held a (red?) candle, burning bright.

All the elements except air. Interesting. 

The Trouble with Dreamwork (or, My Broken Magick… & Ego)

This post has been decidedly uncomfortable for me to write & has taken several weeks, but if you have ever wondered what happened to the "Spiritual Warfare" cleanup campaign…

Sometimes we get stuck.

Last Autumn I was participating in a series of pathworking meditations which had a profound impact on my ability to effectively use the dream incubation technique in my "Hatred Remediation" project. At the time, however, I did not realize this. When I look back on my posts in October & November of last year, I can see that I was on fire. Or something. 

When I migrated South, I found my dreamwork abilities waning, waning, waning... I thought at that time that this had something to do with the season -- it was winter after all & the mycelia, like many other life forms are at rest, in stasis, sleeping. So I gave myself a little bit of slack & figured I would pick it up again when the weather was more accommodating...

When I found the fungi popping up early Spring, high-desert-style, I thought this heralded a change on the horizon… no.

When I returned to Alaska & found fungi the very first time we hit he trails I thought, "Let the dreamwork begin!" … no.

Utterly broken Coprinus(?)

Somewhere around Summer Solstice I came to terms with my broken magick. Broken, broken, utterly. Intuitively, I reached into my bag of tricks & pulled out the sympathetic magic. I declared to Hubby, "This is how I am going to do it from now on. I can't do the dreamwork anymore. Besides, it's more creative & fun this way, right?" Right?

I went ahead & completed two more of my remediation projects using some original sympathetic techniques. I even received assistance from a few other people. But somewhere in the back of my mind I was mulling over & lamenting the loss of what I shall call my "subscription" to that "channel" that felt lost to me. I liken it to having rabbit ears on a television. You swivel that contraption round & round, antennae akimbo until you finally capture that special signal. Ah! Then you will do everything in your power to keep that position locked into place; duct tape, stacks of books, strategically placed houseplants. But inevitably, the cat decides a new perch is in order & poof! Bye bye special signal, auf wiedersehen sacred programming, ciao my precious channel.

I can't really blame it on the cats this time. The children, maybe.

I still have yet to write about those two workings -- now nearly three months completed -- despite the fact that they really were quite clever. This is probably because I have been feeling deflated. Or not on fire anymore. Just kind of soggy. (Which one might think would be good for a mycophile…) 

I have not bothered to pursue any further mushroomy-workings. 

Instead, I performed a 180 & appealed (much to my ego's chagrin) to the Wiccan High Priest who had been sharing his late High Priestess's meditations with the community. The short story is that I have now attended a group class, some private meetings & a circle thus far. I also have a daily 'anointing ritual' which is specifically intended to liberate my intuition. It is all somewhat humbling & awkward & the decision has surprised more than a few people who know me. It is also remarkably comfortable. Like putting on an old pair of jeans. I know that system -- I have lived it. Even if I cannot abide by the label any longer, Wicca is as familiar as my native tongue. It only makes sense to return to it, even feral & changed as I am, to recalibrate my antenna, to remember how to listen.

Miniature poppy in the greenhouse.

I also decided to appeal to Morpheus. I generally keep my relationship with deity very private -- I believe such relationships should not be discussed casually, publicly, idly. My reason for mentioning this here is because the results have been important to my dreamwork recovery. I had to initiate this connection from scratch because there is no information regarding how Morpheus was formally worshipped (though of course the assumption is that he was because of the presence of dream temples). So, I determined that I would just begin with visions of Him -- the way I would incubate a dream, at night just before falling asleep, entreating his help, offering to return His favour with favour, etc... 

Poppies on the porch.

I have some things I must do now involving shrines & poppy gardening & while my rational self balks, I cannot deny that I have begun to remember my dreams again.

So I continue to lick my wounded self-image & nurture the flame that resides within. I don't like asking for help, but sometimes, it becomes an imperative. We'll fix it together. The whole motley lot of us; my gaggle of fungi, a very generous High Priest, beloved Morpheus & me. Now that's the stuff of dreams. Or something.

  

Getting un-stuck: Gathering poppy pods throughout Alaska.

Transforming "Spiritual Warfare": Day 33 (Ohio) [A Photo-filled Magickal DIY of Epic Proportions]

3/3/2014: This post has been added to the Animist Blog Carnival: Dreams edition. To see more animist perspectives on dreams, please visit: Animist Blog Carnival: Dreams

Note: If you are unfamiliar with my "Transforming 'Spiritual Warfare'" aka. Mushroom Hatred Remediation Program, you might want to read the midpoint recap, Transforming "Spiritual Warfare": Back to Business &/or the project's inaugural post, Transforming "Spiritual Warfare": Day 1 (Hawaii), to understand what I am attempting with this post. (I know it's weird, but what magick isn't?) If you are not familiar with the theocratic prayer campaign referred to in this series, see Desultory Philippic's excellent discussion 40 Days of Light, To Bring Back the Darkness, &/or the coverage over at the Wild Hunt.


An Additional Note: If you are participating in Dianne Sylvan's "Spiritual Nomads" E-Course, you might recognize this as falling under Week Two's "Weirdness" discussion. Admittedly, it qualifies.

I-80/Ohio Interstate shield. Courtesy WikiCommons.

The eyes have it.

I have traveled I-80 through Ohio twice in my life. Both times I was moving & both times were rough transitions. While my state of mind may have slightly tainted my experience of Ohio, I am certain I am not alone in being very underwhelmed by this state from the vantage point of this East-West highway. Somewhere along my image search I came across some vacation bloggers who described touring I-80 in Ohio as some of the worst interstate travel anywhere in the U.S. Uncharitable, but true.

Image found HERE.

While browsing the Ohio state welcome signs, I learned that this place has a variety of slogans ranging from meh, to quite clever: "Birthplace of Aviation Pioneers," "With God All Things Are Possible" (really?), "Mother of Presidents" (seven of them), "Ohio, The Heart of It All," "Ohio: Don't Judge Us by Cleveland," "Ohio: Sorry About the Smell, We're Working on it"... Of all the tag lines (& there are many more) the one that stuck with me was "Ohio, So Much to Discover." This is the official Ohio state slogan according to the Department of Development, Division of Travel & Tourism. What struck me was that it felt like a challenge. So much to discover? Really? 

Discover, I did.

Wait. Before I begin with the discovery business, I've decided that perhaps I can recruit some help with this epic & ongoing "hatred remediation" process. So, this time I am going to write it as a walkthru. This will make it epic in length (& chock-full of fabulous imagery!), but if you feel patient & inspired (or perhaps you have read so many of these by now that they do not seem completely bizarre anymore), please feel free to hop on the mycological magick bus & do the "working" yourself. Fungi are so friendly & they just don't get enough hobnobbing with us hominid folk. I'm sure they will appreciate someone else talking to them besides crazy me.

To talk to fungi about remediating waste left over by the prayer campaign, I use a technique called "Dream Incubation." Because this post is going to be very, very long, I am going to give myself a break & snatch the Wiki's words to define this process:

"Dream incubation is a practiced technique of learning to "plant a seed" in the mind, in order for a specific dream topic to occur, either for recreation or to attempt to solve a problem... While somewhat similar to lucid dreaming, dream incubation is simply focusing attention on a specific issue when going to sleep." -- from Wikipedia's article "Dream Incubation"

"Dream Incubation" by kyriemance of DeviantArt

I use the dream incubation for several reasons: 1) Working in your sleep bypasses all the hang-ups & distractions that can plague your work during the wakeful hours. 2) Since the working is on a mental/spiritual/telepathic (or however you understand it) level, using the subconscious to do the "talking" is really very pragmatic. You can't get caught up in being verbal. 3) I could do this the Woo-Woo way, but honestly, I am not very good about getting things done with Woo. It's so complicated & I get obsessive about all the Woo-ey details. Much akin to the altar issue, for me, it's best to just keep the toys to a minimum. 4) Fungi seem like dreamy beasties to me, so why not? 5) This is a big project which takes a great deal of time & effort. Additionally, I have a family & they are busy, noisy people. Thus, I have to get things done when everyone is asleep. What is more practical & expedient than to use my sleep time to get the work done? It's magickal multi-tasking at it's best. 

Besides, it makes for great dreams.

Now for a very cursory history of dream incubation, a brief discussion of technique, followed by a list of resources for the curious & ambitious: 

Μορφεύς, god of dreams. Courtesy Wiki
"Morpheus & Iris" by Pierre-Narcisse Guérin 

Many cultures throughout history -- past & present -- have made use of dreams to foretell the future, problem-solve, communicate with deities &/or the spirit world, etc. It is speculated that the Mesopotamians, ancient Jewish & ancient Celts used dream incubation for spiritual guidance, oracular work, prophesy, etc. & there is ample evidence that the ancient Japanese, Chinese & Egyptians used dream incubation in an organized fashion, having specialized dream temples, halls or other structures specifically for this process which often served as a means for solving political issues. However, the ancient Greeks can be credited with elevating the technique of dream incubation to an art form. The Greeks left us with dream diaries, a lengthy text on oneiromancy (see Oneirocritica, The Interpretation of Dreams) & the remains of their dream temples (e.g., Asclepeion) where dream incubation was primarily used for psychological & physical healing. Many of the same techniques used by these widespread & varied ancient seekers are also used in dream incubation today.

Dream incubation technique varies by culture & individual, but the goal is to create for yourself a period of intense immersion in your dream subject. The most basic way to do this is to spend dedicated time thinking about it during the day & then as you fall asleep, focus on the subject intently, repeating it, expanding upon it until you enter sleep. To strengthen your process you can employ many other tools such as meditation, journalwork &/or appealing to Divinity through ritual, prayer or symbolism. Some people find that using cues are helpful, like burning incense at the bedside, anointing with essential oils (clary sage, for example). Others employ dream-inducing diets, herbals &/or sleeping positions. There are many other techniques & tools to assist the process of dream incubation, but it is not my intention for this post to be about incubation techniques... after all, we're supposed to be discovering Ohio, talking to mushrooms & cleansing our country of theocratic detritus.

However, if you are interested in learning more about dream incubation, here is a medley of random resources to explore:

• "How Can You Control Your Dreams?" from Scientific American. 2010-07-29
• Psychology of Dreams Webcast from UC Berlekey w/Prof. Eleanor H. Rosch, 25 lectures (iTunes U podcast -- it's free) Psychology 106, 001|Fall 2009|UC Berkeley
• "Dreaming & Inspiration with the Sleeping Goddess of Malta" by Karen Tate, Goddess Theology scholar, speaker & author 
• Dreaming in the World's Religions: A Comparative History, searchable Google E-Book. (see also "Related Books" on About This Book page)
• "The “Committee of Sleep”: A Study of Dream Incubation for Problem Solving" by Deirdre Barrett of Harvard Medical School, from Dreaming, Vol. 3, No. 2, 1993 
• The Jungian-Senoi Dreamwork Manual, by Strephon Kaplan Williams & the Jungian-Senoi Institute, circa 1980. Strange, but most excellent -- if you can find a copy. 

With the background information out of the way, we can return to the project at hand. Every time I work with a state, I do the following procedure, give-or-take a few state-specific adaptations as needed:

First, I try to look at artwork by artists from that state. There is a great deal to be said for looking at the world through the eyes of local artists. Then, I spend copious amounts of time browsing the Wikimedia Commons category for that state. I try to look at the majority of the photographs if possible, although I have been known to cease & desist when it might cause me to develop carpal-tunnel syndrome. Next, I visit the local mycological society websites, state-related fungi websites & images to develop an idea of the fungal fauna in general. Then, I wait for some kind of sign that indicates the fungi du jour. This answer comes in various ways, sometimes it is decided by serendipity, sometimes instinct, sometimes even in a dream. I prefer it when the fungus is one I have met personally. This way, I can search my own image files & select my favourite images of the fungi, recalling memories & really "connecting." However, sometimes it is not a beast I have met. If this is the case, I do my homework, checking my books & preferred mycological haunts on the internet, browsing photos & finding someone with whom I can work. Then, I might write a poem, entreaty, chant, or other clever & apropos verbage to help clarify my intent or, I might use someone else's words. Sometimes, words are just not necessary. FINALLY, I take all that to bed & incubate a dream. In my dreams, I ask the mycelia of the focal fungi (as well as the other local fungi species) to remediate the hate. 

Ah, & you thought you were weird...


So, back to the business of discovering Ohio. You will now be visually spammed with some (but, by no means all) of what I discovered about Ohio. The goal here is to immerse yourself in the Ohio landscape. (A note on credits: all the following photographs are courtesy Wikimedia Commons. Links to image page sources are in captions.)

The Crystal King/Ohio Caverns, Beech in Autumn/Hueston Woods, The Devil's Bathtub/Hocking Hills 

Conkles Hollow/Hocking Hills, Winter in Blacklick Woods, Indian Point Park/Lake County

The Wilds (ICPWA) a private, non-profit wildlife conservation center on 9,154 acres of reclaimed coal mine land. It is home to over 25 non-native & hundreds of native species & is the largest wildlife conservation center for endangered species in North America. 

Cedar Falls in the Winter, MacCracken Hall/Miami Uinversity, Oxford in Winter

The Blackhand Gorge State Nature Preserve, Squire's Castle/Cleveland North Chagrin Reservation

Sunset from Fairfield Beach/Buckeye Lake, A-Frame Bridge/ Old Man's Cave

Campbell Mound/Columbus, Williamson Mound/Indian Mound Reserve

Dexter Memorial/ Spring Grove Cemetery, Lorain Lighthouse/Lorain, Serpent Mound (aerial view)/Adams County

"Angel"/Spring Grove Cemetery & Arboretum, Corn Field/Ohio

Brown's Lake Bog/Brown's Lake Bog State Nature Preserve, one of the few remaining kettle peatlands.

Glacial grooves/Kelleys Island, Brandywine Falls after a storm/Cuyahoga Valley

Zoraville Bridge NHP/Conotton Creek, Fairfield Township, 

Fairport Harbor/Headlands Dunes State Nature Preserve,

The Genius of Water, aka "The Lady"/Fountain Square, Cincinnati 

Kamelands/ Highlands Nature Sanctuary, Yellow Springs/Glen Helen Nature Preserve

Wasn't that lovely? Now that we have developed a concept of Ohio, or at the very least, have ample fodder for visualization, let us move on to an exploration of the native fungi in this very "discoverable" state. As luck would have it, a photographer with a penchant for fungi (read: well-versed mycophile) & a macro lens offered up a plethora of truly spectacular images to the WikiCommons. The following images were taken in the Wayne National Forest, Strouds Run State Park, "The Ridges" at Ohio University & various other Ohio locales by "Shroomydan" (aka Dan Molter of the Mushroom Observer). I will do my very best to use restraint.

Mycena acicula, Amanita abrupta, Pouzarella flavoviride, Pseudobaeospora sp.

Scutellinia sp.,  Bisporella citrina

Pholiota squarrosoides, Hygrocybe psittacina

Tylopilus plumbeoviolaceus, Marasmius rotula, Rhodotus palmatus

Xylocoremium flabelliforme, Boletus hortonii

Nectria episphaeria, Urnula craterium

Hygrophoropsis aurantiaca, Hygrocybe cantharellus, Laccaria ochropurpurea

Entoloma murraii, Lactarius volemus, Clavaria vermicularis

Laetiporus cincinnatus, Russula parvovirescens

Mutinus caninus

Well, so much for self restraint. If you found yourself fully immersed, but still yearning for more, go visit the Wikimedia Commons & search "Ohio fungi." The collection is extensive, diverse & gorgeous.

Now for Ohio's fungal remediation representative. You might have noticed a delightful little red & black ditty up there on the second row. That's Scutellinia scutellata & it's an old Alaskan friend of mine. Otherwise known as the Eyelash Cup fungus, Eyelash Pixie Cup or Molly Eye-winker, these diminutive cuties have the prettiest little rim of "lashes" about their outer edge making them appear a bit like tiny orange or scarlet (thanks to carotenoids) peepers. It's very easy to find them in droves on moist, rotting wood -- this is because the are saprobic & thus, perfect for the plan. Also perfect for this project's theme of search & discovery! Didn't you & your eyes discover amazing things about Ohio? 

S. scutellata with a slime mould friend

On a tangential note, I did not discover the function of those lashes. None of my sources offered any kind of explanation for their function, yet there was a consensus among professionals that they are "beautiful," "attractive" & they make people smile (see, it's not just me)... I am thinking that cuteness (to hominids) is not the purpose of this adaptation, but no one appears to be asking/exploring the question. Despite failure in my pursuit of an answer to the eyelash mystery, I did receive two consolation prizes: 1) I learned that S. scutellata likes to fraternize with "mosses, slime moulds (!!!) & other cryptogams"(emphasis obviously mine) & 2) I found this spectacular photo of a slug eating an eyelash cup. Just look at this: "Naturally Curious with Mary Holland." Awesome. If you weren't already convinced they are cute, I bet you are now.

Onward to the final immersion! This time, I have paired my own images of S. scutellata with a variety of prayers/invocations to Morpheus. I think this is an apropos treatment for this particular effort. Feel free to come up with your own expressions if you prefer. 

I wol make invocacion,
With special devocion,
Unto the god of slep anoon,
That duelleth in a cave of stoon
Upon a strem that cometh fro Lete,
That is a flood of helle unswete,
Besyde a folk men clepeth Cymerie...

-- Chaucer,  The Book of the Duchess

Morpheus Lord of Dreams, we call unto thee.
Weaver of webs in the attic of the subconscious.
Great Jackal, Manifesto of impermanence,
Magickal King, Sandman, Anubis, join us now.
Come down from your moon lit mountain,
with wispy cloak and eyes of light.
Past the stars, through the clouds of disbelief.
Awaken our imagination, throw your poppy like sand upon our distracted minds. For we come to dream, to pay homage to the art, the joy, the reality of fantasy. Opening our subconscious we invoke hermetic truths, universal archetypes and mythical legends. From the depths of our inner most void- align our energies with the ray of wisdom.
Descend thee Morpheus.  -- Korinne (via Evolver), Invocation to Morpheus

S. scutellata

We open our eyes to discover. We close them to sleep. May we never lose sight of liberty, may we ever dream in freedom.

The eyes have it.