What Dreams May Come

I just finished the novel What Dreams May Come this morning.  I always loved the movie and suspected that I would love the book even more.  I found this image on another blog that describes the movie, although the blogger confesses to not reading the book yet.  Here is the link to the photo and the blog.  I am using the weather to my advantage and working on my metal projects.  It feels great to spend a whole day engrossed in my projects.  My work becomes a delightful meditation.  It has not been possible for years to create a space such as the one that I am now presently working in as other people and their self interests have blocked my efforts.  For 7 years I lived with a hoarder, that pushed my work space into the realm of dysfunctionalism.  The next two years trying to reestablish my work environment only to watch the deterioration of my tools and equipment.  My work was sporadic and not satisfying.  It was like being thirsty and having no water to quench the feeling.  It was like drowning in stagnant water and not ever being dry...or safe...or content.  It was much like the hell that the character descended to in order to find his beloved and save her from it.  I have fought very hard for my creative space and see many parallels to what both the book and movie What Dreams May Come points to.  I have fought very hard for my artistic soul and suffered much abuse from oppressors along the way.  So if I take a week from this blog and bask in the sunlight of my workshop, realize that I am in my own version of heaven and can not break away from it just yet.  While I am the sort of person that would descend to the debts of hell, and the hells within hells to help my beloved (like Chris in the book and movie), I am not able to stay there for any length of time.  Nor would I choose to remain there when I could not convince my beloved to leave.  My darkest thought is that somehow we were already born in hell, and just don't remember the transition.  And perhaps this dark thought is the very thing that keeps me away from organized religion.  I realize that hell would certainly contain all the organized religions of this earth plane.  As above so below witches say.  But just maybe there is a below that is below...depths that lay below.  I confess I do not know for sure and my actions reflect that possible reality.  I see much evidence of that and if I gave into it I would be making weapons all the time instead of jewelry.  I realize that I have a choice in the matter and always have.  I chose to live with a hoarder, and I chose to leave and live in a less than safe neighborhood and environment in hopes that possibly someday we could reunite.  It was a painful decision that had painful consequences.  If I thought there was no surfacing from it, I am not sure I could have endured it, or revisit it upon occasion.  My soul wishes to create in spite of the negativity directed my way.  So for now that is just what I am going to do...and dear reader I will get back to you.