How It Began

The first dream translated into a mask was one of a tribal tattoo symbol of initiation and power titled, “Hey Mike, Your Tattoo Wants My Number.” The appearance of this ancient symbol announced that I was being courted for a new body of work.

My maternal great grandmother, Julia Griffith Moore, was next with “White Lace and Philodendron” in which she was holding court on the dju dju of seduction.

Then came the dream world’s challenge to find the gem in the crowd, be attentive, and stretch far beyond the usual comfort level in “The Buddha’s Hair.”

The gift of dreams is for all of us, and because of this I have avoided interpretations. The meaning of each dream will find you on its own.