Dream of: 23 July 1986 "Golden Sword"

simply seizing the power to create beauty is a battle in itself  

My ex-wife Louise (we met as law students and were married for less than a year from 1984-1985) and I traveled together around Europe for a while, then separated because she wanted to return to the United States and I wanted to stay longer in Europe. So she left and I stayed.

In France, I boarded a sailing ship which looked like something built in perhaps the 1600s or 1700s. I even seemed to be in a previous century when such ships plied the oceans. Only after having set sail did I realize the ship was a war ship. We spotted and prepared to attack another large sailing ship by ramming it with a silver ram which graced the bow of our ship. We sailed toward the enemy ship at full speed and rammed into its side. Our prow smashed through the enemy ship and exited the opposite side of the thoroughly damaged ship. Boards splintered and stuck out everywhere on the enemy ship.

Now an epic battle between the soldiers on the two ships ensued. With swords flailing the air, each side set about killing the other side. Right in the middle of the fray, I approached the captain of our ship and told him that I was concerned that when the enemy ship sank, it would pull our ship under with it. He seemed unconcerned and the battle raged on. Finally we all noticed that indeed both ships were sinking. Many people injured and in chains on our ship would obviously drown. Finally both ships plunged under the water.

The survivors either fell or jumped into the water. Still wearing his golden armored vest and holding his golden sword above his head, my muscular captain leapt into the water, where he struggled to keep his head above water. I thought my captain was of the opinion that our ship would dislodge itself from the other ship under the water and then bob back up to the surface.

A number of extremely large rocks one might almost say hills were jutting perpendicularly out of the water in different locations nearby. Soldiers from both sides swam in random directions toward different rocks.

I reached one rock and was able to climb onto shore, and found myself on what appeared to be an island. Other survivors, including some women who had been on our ship, had also reached the island.

Buildings, including a gigantic church, adorned the island. Clearly the island had electricity because lights glowed in the church and other buildings, but no people were to be seen. Along with perhaps one hundred other survivors, I  walked into the church. One woman found a telephone and acted as if she wanted me to call someone for assistance, but after I walked past her, she began calling someone herself.

I walked down a hallway until I found a small room occupied by a sitting woman busily doing paper work. She had black hair, was short and looked Hispanic. I walked into the room and asked her if she worked there. When she told me she did, I said something like, "Well, there's about a hundred of us out here. We've had a shipwreck."

When she matter-of-factly walked out of the room, I accompanied her outside to a car which she boarded. She said she was going to go get someone else to bring back to help us and she drove off.

When I walked back into the church, I encountered my ex-wife Louise, who hugged me and asked me what had happened. When I explained what had occurred, she seemed upset, but she seemed most bothered that I had had a number of my collages with me on the ship and that they had been lost with the ship.

She brought up the fact that my father had also been in Europe while I had been there. She wanted to know why I hadn't sent the collages back to the United States with him instead of taking them with me. I told her that since I hadn't known what was going to happen to either my father or me, I had thought the collages would be safer with me. She said she thought that with my track record, the collages would have been safer with my father. I told her I could make other collages. I thought new collages would probably even be better than the old ones. That I had had my collages on the ship with me and had lost them was indeed, however, a tragedy.

I thought about the type of new collage which I would make. I would make one about the size of one of my recent collages, about one by two meters in size. Thinking that I might use a map on part of the collage, I pulled out a map of Europe. As I gazed at the map, I wondered exactly where the battle and shipwreck had taken place and where I was now. It appeared we had been in the Atlantic Ocean close to the border of France and Spain.

The map was quite detailed and showed small islands close to the corner where France and Spain meet on the Atlantic Ocean. Names of cities in Spain were written there. We were apparently in one Spanish city, the first two letters of which were "Ba ...."

When some of the island's local people (including a couple fellows wearing large back packs) entered the church, I asked Louise who the people were and she replied, "Those are the good people."

Pointing out the survivors of the shipwreck who were seated around us, I said, "And who are those people?"

She answered, "Those are the bad people."

She then looked at me and asked, "Have you been false to your mom?"

We both began laughing. I knew what she was trying to discover. She knew that she had left me and that I no longer needed to be faithful to her. She was trying to say that I should be faithful to my mother and that I should not be with other women. What she really wanted to know was whether I had been with any other women. I reflected that I had had sex with one attractive, black-haired woman on the ship.

I thought I would tell Louise that since I didn't actually have to be faithful to my mother, I could honestly say that I had indeed been faithful to my mother.

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