I stretch out on a comfortable sofa. It has taken me hard effort and some cunning to get to this level. I remember riding a bicycle, like a schoolboy, down steps to the edge of a river, where I risked toppling over or banging into tables set for lunch or high tea when the trail narrowed between the water and the elegant picnic setup. Eventually, I had to get off my bike and carry it.
When I entered this building, what was in my hand was no longer a bike, but a rifle, hardly bigger or heavier than a BB gun. I climbed successive flights of concrete steps. There was a lot of action on the lower floor. On one landing, my way was partly blocked by a huge, well-muscled man fondling or mauling a woman. He had one meaty arm raised and extended to mark off half the landing as his territory. I got round him, but then had to face the challenge of getting over a barrier atop a high step, as high as my heart. I would need both hands to pull myself up and swing myself over. This requires me to lay down my rifle - a risky thing to do, since I could see people spreadeagled on the floor on this next level. They might be handcuffed prisoners, or hostages, or casualties. I placed my gun at the edge of the high step, where I calculated no one could reach it. With effort, I got myself over the barrier and continued my ascent, to the calm and spaciousness of this penthouse.
Now she comes to me, leaning over me, smelling of gardenias. She is wearing a sheath dress of rose-colored silk, and she is breathtakingly beautiful. She kisses and caresses me, lovingly. Slow and tender, she begins to engage me in erotic foreplay. I know her name. I have known it since I saw her on the big screen as a young boy in Australia. She is Ava Gardner, and she is the most beautiful woman in the world.
She is the Goddess, she is the universal power of the Divine Feminine, she is all women, and I feel the joy and grace of her blessing. I rise in the morning light, grateful that the blessing of the Goddess is with me.
- Dream from May 28, 2011
A friend who read this report found a photo of a dress that may well be the one that Ava wore in my dream. It was worn by Avan Gardner in 1965 and is currently on display at the "Balenciaga and Spain" exhibition at the de Young Museum in San Francisco. Another friend points out that "Ava" and "Eve" have the same root, and are related to the Hebrew "chava", which speaks of the vital serpent energy of life.