Dangerous Dreams: From Hitler to Goddess-Guided Landings

Newberry, Little Goddess, 2004, oil on canvas, 24x18”.

Some years ago, when I was living in the old town of Rhodes, Greece, I was working with a wonderful model who was from Germany. We were collaborating on a small mythical piece: a naked Athena on the shores of the Aegean. She was witnessing Icarus fall, which she could not bear. So, she used her divine powers to neutralize gravity, cushioning his fall and allowing him to safely land.

In many ways, I see myself as Icarus, fearlessly, passionately, and enjoyably flying as high close to the light as I possibly can—with little regard to safety or warnings from well-meaning people. Kristina, the model, was also living in Rhodes, and like me, she left behind her country and was embarking on a new journey in a foreign and idyllic place.

Later that evening after our session, we walked down footpaths from my Turkish-styled house overlooking the Mediterranean to a small taverna just five minutes away. We sat at their outdoor courtyard surrounded by ancient walls. They happened to be serving one of my favorites: roast pork loin. I had that for dinner, even though the choice made me pause to think. I told her that when I ate pork, I would have nightmares. I was getting old enough to recognize certain physiological patterns after eating and drinking. Plus, I hated to think that intelligent pigs were transmitting foreknowledge of their fate.

And sure enough, that evening I had one of the most vivid nightmares I've ever experienced in my life. In my dream, there were televised news items, like in Elvis sightings, that Hitler was still alive and he had been confined to a high-security asylum for the criminally insane. After all these years, they were going to release him, as he was so old, the rationale was: what harm could he do? Two official-looking men had come to my front door with papers I needed to sign. The issue was that they were going to release him into my care. I had no idea what qualified me to be Hitler's caretaker. For God's sake, I was an artist, and I was going to be the guardian of the most evil man in humankind!? In the nightmare, I kept screaming, "I don't want to be responsible for Hitler. I don't want to be responsible for Hitler." Thankfully, I woke up and was immensely relieved that indeed, it had been a dream.

I knew that investing everything I had to be an artist was an enormous challenge. Millions of others have tried it and the artworld landscape was fraught with failures, wannabes, and posers. But I loved it so much that I never created a backup plan; there was no safety net. Could the dream have been a reminder that my ambition to be an artist was far more dangerous than I could consciously imagine, and that a little goddess was sending me a take-care warning in my dream? And, like in my painting, she neutralized the gravity of my situation by giving the warning in a dream and not in reality? So that I would get the warning but didn't have to be destroyed to understand it?

Never underestimate how dangerous dreams are, and with some navigation and support you can fulfill your greatest desires.

Michael Newberry, Idyllwild, August 14, 2023