Of Rosalind Russell, Italian drama queens, epic intricacies and visiting folklorists . . .
I haven't been consciously thinking about Marian apparitions lately, or this blog, haven't had any visions or visitations or synchronicities, yet for some reason I've dreamt about Marian apparitions and this blog the past two nights.
The night before last I had one of those dreams that had nothing to do with me. It was as if I had astrally bumped into someone else's dream-head out there in the ether. The dream kept changing point of view: often the observer, sometimes the "main" character, which was the actress Rosalind Russell. In the dream she wasn't the actress Rosalind Russell playing a part, she just happened to be Rosalind Russell.
The dream took place over several decades, like a David Lean film. All very colorful and epic and intricate. Location: Italy. Pre war, post war. . . Rosalind Russell behaving, for the most part, like an amped up Melina Mercouri. Whenever Russell/Mercouri would get annoyed, which was often, she'd put on a one woman street theater performance. Once she hung herself upside down inside a wooden box while nude, which shocked the villagers but they were used to that kind of thing. She had to be rescued by children; not her kids, but more like her nieces and nephews.
And something about a younger man and they were both wildy in love but it was never consummated. He eventually got ill and was languishing downstairs in a huge, open room full of gilt and multi-colored tiles, while Russell was upstairs, lounging around in a giangantic bed, drinking a glass of white wine.
Rosalind Russell on a bed, but without a brilliantly colored nun's habit.
That was the last scene: Russell in a colorful nun's habit, drinking a glass of white wine, gabbing with a female friend of hers, also on the bed. Something mildy lesbian-erotic about it not overtly. And while Russell was dressed like a carnival version of a nun, she wasn't pretending to be a nun; it just gave off that impression.
Actress Melina Mecouri.
Hmmmm.... I know, lots of things we can say about all that. Hanged Man imagery, "Never On Sunday" Madonna and whore stuff, Russell as Sister Carrie, Italy, the Vatican, younger dying man; a hodge podge of Freudian stuff. One thing that strikes me is the Trickster quality of Russel-Mary: in your face, theater, acting out, over the top . . .
Last night's dream had me wandering around the folklore department at the college I went to (where I majored in folklore.) Whenever I dream of the folklore department it's always been changed since I was there. That's not too hard to figure out. anyway, I'm roaming around, a bit lost, no one knows me of course, until I run into one of my professors. Turns out some of the graduate students know my name and reputation -- ego runs strong in dreams, lol. I'm asked to present to a lecture hall class once a month on UFO stuff, mainly UFO-Mary; they want me to focus on that. I'm surprised that the UFO-Mary connection would be of interest, but glad.
I'm very jazzed about this of course. And, they're paying me! Not bad for someone who threw up her hands at the last minute and never finished her thesis. So I'm up there, making last minute notes, etc. I get a bit worried because I don't have a power point slide show thingie to show off; all the previous presenters had one. I was under the impression they'd be fine with me just talking. But I make a note for next time and carry on.
To my surprise some people are shocked or offended: "What, Mary, mother of Christ, and flying saucers??!! Aliens???!!" But it goes quite well, and I'm very happy.
So, UFO-Mary on the brain. Something's percolating in there . . .