escape through art
Having been captured in a foreign land, I was being held prisoner. As I sat at a table strewn with art books, a man standing nearby interrogated me, trying to discover who I was. Since I thought I was an artist, perhaps a famous one, I challenged the man that if he guessed my name, I would tell him who I was, but I wouldn't reveal my identity if he were simply making wild guesses by rapping off the names of one artist after another. Only if he came to the conclusion that I was a particular artist would I acknowledge that he was correct.
After walking up to the table, the man looked over the art books, picked up one about Marc Chagall and began leafing through it. I also picked up a book about Vincent Van Gogh. Some writing at the front of the Van Gogh book (about the author who had assembled the book), explained how the author had first traveled to America and sojourned there a while. The publishers appreciated that the author had finally returned to Europe to assemble the book.
It looked as if the book only contained colorful pictures, but as I perused them, the pictures seemed to tell a story. The initial picture depicted a young man, whereas successive pictures portrayed the man as he became older. The first picture seemed to display the man during a time when he had experienced spiritual yearnings and had been able to ponder other-worldly matters. As the pictures showed the man growing older, the motif emerged of a man more and more absorbed with his own problems. I thought such a motif was also applicable to my own life, how the older I became the more concerned I became with my own problems. Only when I became very old would I be able to return to the spiritual side of life.
In one picture the man was sitting in front of an immense church or cathedral in the background. As I studied the church, it occurred to me that a person could always put his or her hope in God, even in the most trying circumstances such as I was now in, being held prisoner. Even now I could contemplate God, even before the interrogation began. It also occurred to me that a person could store up the availability of help from God and that the way to store up this help was by helping other people. I knew I needed to be helping other people.
Abruptly in a sonorous and pleasing voice I sang out, "My God thou art my refuge."
Dream Commentary of April 11, 2015
Acknowledging God's existence is of paramount importance in the church. Not so much on the Dream Journal. This seems to be one of the more important differences between a church and the Dream Journal. Not all dream-journalists believe in God.
God certainly is well hidden. Nowhere within man's purview is absolute proof of the existence of God to be found. Instead of knowledge of God, man is left with only a belief which some refuse to embrace. For those who do believe in God, differing interpretations of God's exact nature are proffered. The purpose and meaning of the universe remain unexplained.
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