the end of Oct. 2010 and early December 2010 I got my latest
was a 25 hour ordeal (two 9 hour sittings, a 5 hour sitting, and a
final 2 hour 'touch-up' sitting). All
of my tattoos have deep and significant spiritual meanings and this
large piece is no different. However, it was not a simple and easy
tale to tell. After been asked by numerous people (especially those
not local) I wrote and posted a blog. Primarily it tells of an
ongoing battle against worry, anxiety, and Fear itself. (For those of
you interested you can read it
at Tattoo:Solace in Pain
was very shortly after writing and posting this that I had this
dream... although I'm not overly sure I could call it a dream. I
wasn't really asleep, but in a very deep state of meditation...
somewhat hesitant to share this one because there are SO
symbolisms (to me) that have developed over those 20 plus years; so
many other dreams; so many fears and trials, I fear the full weight
of this dream might be lost.
watch this dream from some sort of third party, disconnected,
disembodied perspective. Everything
was so detailed, so real. It was (quite literally) like watching a
movie in HD, 3-D, Technicolor.
an aerial point of view I watch what I can only imagine was some sort
of pilgrim walking. He
wore only a pair of white pants. No top, bare chested, and bare foot.
He carried nothing with him. The only other article he possessed (or
wore) was some sort of brown – or possibly red – sash around his
waist. Possibly made of silk. The colour was difficult to determine
because of an odd thick mist that swirled and danced about the
landscape; dulling all colours; seemingly sucking the life out
walked alone upon a built up path or road. This road stood about 2 to
3 feet above the grassy plains through which he traveled. The path
entered – and continued to pass through – a large hedge-enclosed
area. My guess was slightly smaller than a football field.
sky was overcast and obscured due to this fog. The thick mist moved
with an ever so light breeze. And on those rare occasions when this
breeze became slightly stronger, the mist would take on the
appearance of a hard wind driven blizzard-like snow... and then
return to its twisting quiet mist... but some some strange reason it
was never cold. Never cold like the hard tiny snow it appeared
this pilgrim walked, my camera-angle (you will have to forgive me
here because so movie-like in quality was this dream I am forced to
describe it in likewise terms) rotated around him, and as I passed
before him I saw his face, and it was me.
And as the angle of view returned to his back, he stopped, and I saw
what he saw.
lone figure wading its way through the lowlands of the fields through
the mist. Details were nearly impossible to descry, even from this
short distance. But as the figure go closer it was obvious that it
wore a robe with its head covered with a hood and cowl. It walked
with what looking like a large cane or staff. The breeze that swirled
the mist made its cowl flutter, but its face remained hidden in that
gray misty shadows.
the figure was within 10 feet of the traveling pilgrim it twisted its
walking staff to a sight angle to reveal that it was a green stone
sword, its hilt hidden by the angle the robed figured held it at. My
blood ran cold as I recognized the weapon. It was the same sword from
the 8th dream all those 21 years ago. And the details!! I could
clearly see and trace the patterns that ran its length. I could see
the pits and chips and cracks through the strange green
as the robed figure raised its head, the breeze that caused the mist
to eddy blew back his cowl and his face became visible, and his face
It was my face,
but as it smiled I realized it was as alien as could possibly be. Its
eyes were empty as it smiled... and the breeze became slightly
stronger and the flesh on his face lifted and flew in small circles
in the wind – looking identical to dry dead autumn leaves caught in
the wind, and his face with nothing more than a grimacing skull.
as the breeze slightly calmed down, the dead dry autumn leaves found
their way back and reformed him human-like disguise.
was at this point that that third-party, disconnected, disembodied
perspective ceased, and I became the pilgrim wearing only the white
pants and red/brown silk sash around his waist.
robed figure (me?) quickly flipped the stone sword right-side-up and
pilgrim (me?) countered and attacked using only martial arts.
was vaguely aware that I had freedom within this dream. Although I
could not avoid this combat, I was in complete control as to the
fighting itself. (In the real world, at the time of this dream, I
held a Red Belt in Taekwon-do – that's 2 belts short of
gloss over this longest part of the dream. In short, it was these two
fighting. But I will repeat what I had said earlier. It was like
watching a movie in HD 3-D!
every time the pilgrim scored a (brutal)
hit, the stone-sword-wielding robed figure's flesh would explore off,
carried by the wind like dead autumn leaves, only to return and
reform it's skin. But still the two combated one another.
went only like this for some time (And like ringnut's description of
rage-dreams, that is very similar to what I was emotionally
experiencing – rage, yet controlled. Although the words were never
spoken in the dream, the underlying 'message' or 'feel' was this
far and no farther!.
battle changed at one point. The two broke away from each other as
the pilgrim stood legs apart and braced with his fists at his side.
He seemed to be summoning some sort of energy or power. (As
embarrassing as this sounds, it seemed very much like
Goku's Kamehameha attack).
to the pilgrim, from behind him came this monstrous dragon. (The
exact dragon of my tattoo!) It would seemed to have been 'swimming'
through the ground, if such a thing were possible. Every time it
arched out and boomed back into the ground was like thunder! And as
it slammed into the pilgrim's back he glowed with power! He thrust
his hands forward and a gale force wind blew towards the
sword-wielding robed figure.
His hood and cowl completely blew back as he fought this wind. His skin
stripped from his bones, but this time didn't spin in circles and
reattach. This time it left his as nothing but bones; a bare skeleton
and skull. And then the pilgrim charged and attacked! He
hit the skeleton with a flying side kick and this time
it was shattered bone that blew away. The
sword-wielding figure still struggling against the winds, it's dead
dry leaf-like flesh long since gone, and now its bones be shattered
with every hit.
returned to that third-person, disconnected, disembodied perspective
and the camera-angle (you must again forgive me) began ascending,
giving a more and more bird's eye view of the battling two, the sounds
of their combat and the screaming wind becoming smaller and smaller
until they would out of sight.
then came out of my 'meditative' state. (I woke up)
I think it is important to identify that there were three aspects of myself present within this dream, not two.