Art By Shalley

Using Art to Heal

Spirit Flight

                                                                    Spirit Flight

                                           Background information provided by client:
    The client asked me to paint a picture based on the following dream. Client dreams:

    I am in a large, open meadow that is surrounded by very old, very tall stand of what I think are oak trees. There is a stream flowing through one end of the meadow and the Black Stallion is waiting there. He isn't drinking, just watching my approach. For a change, he neither gallops toward me, to abruptly stop and bolt away, nor does he run away. He just waits.
    Although I never see my face, I know the woman is me. She has very long wavy red hair and isn't exactly walking, nor floating, but some kind of movement in between the two. My feet must be bare because I can feel the earth beneath me. My movement toward the Stallion is unhurried, but not particularly slow.
    I am wearing a long white, shimmery, floaty gown or robe or some sort that is substantial enough that the fabric can be seen, but sheer enough that the female form can easily be seen beneath it.. It seems almost to be made of some kind of light, the king of light that comes through clouds at dusk. I am wearing a circlet made of some kind of metal, shaped into small leaves.
    There is enough of a breeze to make leaves on the trees and the grass move, but it is not windy. It is very, very peaceful.
    When I am very close to the Stallion, but not touching him, he deliberately turns to me and pushes me with his head. Every time I have ever seen him, his eyes are laughing and he is laughing now. I communicate to him without speaking. I ask if he will teach me to fly. I tell him that I have no desire to tether him or control him or interfere in anyway with his freedom. But I want to fly and am afraid to do so alone. I don't know how I get there, but I am on his back, with my head laid against the back of his neck. And he flies. It is neither day nor night, not completely light nor dark, and looking down I can see the meadow and the grove of trees get smaller and smaller, and the sky and the stars and the moon get closer. And we, the Stallion and I, are no longer separate, distinct entities. We have become something like moonlight.

                                                                                          

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