My Niche

The Dream: Clark and I, both dressed so eclectically that we resemble hobos, are walking in a foreign city. We are near a closed bank with an open foyer. I need to adjust the laces on my hiking shoes so I enter, park myself in a niche and get to work. Clark sits in another niche while he waits for me.

The tellers arrive: their work station is directly across from me. One young lady with short blond hair and glasses begins to make loud and unpleasant comments, saying I don’t belong here. I work on my shoes, determined to ignore her but nevertheless I feel uncomfortable. When I’m done I look for Clark, who I had thought was nearby silently supporting me by also refusing to move. However, I notice he has already high-tailed it, so I go outside to find him.

Interpretation: I wander in alien territory (a foreign city) with my animus (Clark). We don’t fit in here (we are dressed creatively but inappropriately). So—I’m out of place, and in some way I am stuck: my shoes, the things that enable me to stand on my own two feet and to move in comfort, need adjustment. I find my niche and attempt to fix the problem.

The blond teller represents someone I know in waking life who is very interested in making money from her talent, so she represents the part of me that would like to do the same. She tries to dislodge me from my comfortable niche, and I try to ignore her. My discomfort tells me that I’m not immune to her criticism. In other words, I live in a commercial world, and a part of me disdains my inner “artist” for failing to succeed financially.  The part of me that deals with the world in a practical way (my animus Clark) does not support my retreat to a comfortable but unprofitable niche. To integrate these two adverse factions (practical vs. artistic) I have to leave my comfort zone (the niche) and go outside.

No Longer on a Higher Plane

Many dreams are about work. Whatever field you're in, chances are you face some conflicts. This dream is a good example of the way the unconscious identifies and attempts to resolve the issues.

The Dream: I am in an airplane going to Australia. There are very few people on the flight, and I’m surprised the effort has not been abandoned. The plane is huge, which emphasizes how few flyers there are. Clark and I sit about one quarter of the way back from a partition dividing the sections, and the other passengers are way back, about one quarter from the rear of the plane. The plane does not exactly take off, but flies very low through a city space like NYC. I wonder if we will ever gain a plane-like elevation. We cross bridges and fly/taxi along for miles and miles.

Then we are airborne, en route, and this is when I wonder about the practicality of this flight that has so few passengers. I discover I’ve neglected to pack my art supplies and feel a sense of loss at having forgotten something important. I think I could buy some in Australia, and at the same time I think I might like a vacation—no art making for a week or so. A rest might do me good.

Now I’m in an advertising office, or some sort of commercial art studio. The artists are busily painting at large easels. I don’t particularly care for what they are producing, but I find their process--the way they are producing it—exciting, and I want to try. It looks like fun! I want to play with their toys. I see a painting to the left instantly transform, coming together in a way that didn’t at first seem possible. I see a large painting with Michael Jackson in the foreground and the 3 Supremes behind him. It’s done in a pointillist style. I think I’ve done the same painting, only in mine Michael Jackson was naked.

Interpretation: This dream reveals my feelings about my work as an artist / illustrator. I start off on a lower level, and I stay there for so long that it doesn’t seem possible I’ll be elevated by the plane (art pun: picture plane) that I’m on. Once I (my skills, my career) finally do take off I discover I have no materials to work with. And there are so few passengers (people interested in my art) that I’m concerned about the practicality of the “effort.” I don’t have the “right stuff” to work on this level. Down on earth again I visit the commercial realm. Here I find a way to work—and it’s fun! On the other hand, I question the value of the product. The dream holds out some hope that this type of work can be transformed, as the paintings in the dream are. Since my artist (Michael Jackson) is exposed (naked) I might be able to produce some sort of meaningful, gutsy work in this down-to-earth commercial world, and have fun doing it.