I don't often think about the various 'hats' that I wear. But apparently, while I was sleeping last night, they were on my mind.
I dreamed that I was in a big Cafe. Someone brought over a container full of miniature banana pudding pies. When I opened it and began to use them for a demonstration, he told me that I didn't want to do that. Then a stranger put his hands over my ears and pressed painfully. I moved his hands and asked why he was hurting me. He had curly black/brown hair, brown eyes, was slightly tanner than I, claiming to be Cigany and demanding that the pies were $350. I felt a little ill at that price, but I looked closer and saw an orange sticker on the package proclaiming them $0.99. I pointed it out and paid him a dollar. He accepted it, caught in a loophole and said this kind of stealing was a skill of the Cigan, so he was mildly impressed. I winked and said that I knew. He asked if I was Cigany. I said, "Only a very little, from my mother's side."
Then two women walked up, one a pretty dwarf who started telling stories that she'd heard as a child and the other holding her infant son on her hip, talking about getting ready to teach her painting class. She accidentally wiped paint across her nose. A third woman walked up and she was a professional painter. The two women were lamenting getting just the right color and the difficulties of blending. Before I could join the conversation with fellow artists, someone tapped me on my arm.
I glanced over in distraction and was now sitting on the ground by a chain link fence drinking a glass of iced pink lemonade. I was sitting with several of my friends from my first time at college from over a decade ago. We were just visiting and catching up when a group of cheerleaders playing with hat cup and ball toys walked past on the other side of the fence and suddenly, my new Troy friends were there, on the other side of the fence, visiting with us as well. Then I woke up.
The dream was never threatening or scary. As I wrote it down, I believe it is a representation of all the aspects of me, meeting and being together at one time: My SCA persona is Cigany from Hungary in the 1400s. My being a mother and a story teller. My goal to be a college art teacher AND a professional artist. A reminder that my past and my present can coincide, through me. I woke up and knew that I am alright with me for me, in all the various ways that I am.
...The other thing that I got from this dream was an overwhelming urge to make fried pudding pies.
Going to give this recipe from http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/pocket-pies-recipe/index.html a try.