Piano Synchronicities

Cat Spirits, Mother's Piano, Tarot Cards...june 2011. I found this in draft mode, intending to post it on one of my blogs. Since this is the ghostly season, I'm posting it here.

I posted the other day about possible spirit activity around here due to fixing up the house. Today I saw my cat Roswell walk into the bedroom. I then walked in the other direction, into the kitchen, and, there was Roswell! I saw a ghost cat! Cool!

Not so fast. Our other cat, Matisse, who I was convinced was outside, was the one who had walked into the bedroom He's gray (a Russian Blue) and Roswell is a tuxedo cat. When Matisse walked by, he looked jet black, not gray. He actually blends into the shadows very well, more so than Roswell, who's mainly black. Oh well.

On the other hand, I've been having interesting things happen around my psychic intuitiveness; getting back into doing readings with some positive and surprising things happening because of that. Doing so has opened up all kinds of things on many levels. This afternoon an abrupt tiredness came over me, I could barely stand up, I was so inexplicably fatigued. I go into the bedroom to take a nap. Afternoon naps are always strange; I have the weirdest, and most psychic kind, of dreams, and it is very hard for me to wake up from them. I have to force myself to move, to get up, and it takes me a long time to shake myself out of it. So my dream involved a lot of what I'd call French-movie-surrealism but one thing:

I dreamt I was in charge of facilitating a chamber orchestra. I myself wasn't a musician, but I was responsible for everything surrounding their playing; setting up their appearances, making sure everything was set up just so, etc. I go inside to the small privately owned, very rich estate where the orchestra has been hired to play. No one around, including the musicians, it's too early. I sit down at the piano, which I don't know how to play. Wish i could though. I remove a silk cover that is protecting the keyboards. I know I don't remove it quite properly; it's still showing, but it works. I think to myself, well, this is stupid, I don't know how to play, but her It goes, and I start to bang away. I think: "I'll fake it, just go for it," and before I know it, I'm playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Not very well, but anyone hearing it would recognize it.

Lots more that I don't remember very well,  including children and ghosts and not wanting to offend the snooty rich folk but I end up doing so anyway and when I/we do, it feels pretty good.

I wake up and turn on the radio right away, which is my habit. It's set to the classical station. And playing on the classical station, is Moonlight Sonata.

Regan's mother, Seaside Oregon, circa 1929?

Further synchronicity and messages; I usually talk with my mother every Sunday, but I haven't spoken with her for two weeks. The lack of communication had been on my mind. My mother was a concert pianist, playing when she was three years old and having recitals when she was not much older than that.  When we were growing up, she played at the Steinway in our living room, and one of the pieces she always played was Moonlight Sonata. She would get kind of sick of it, for we'd always ask her to play that for us.

And yet one more: I had just finished proofing this, then sat back as my husband read me the latest installment in his novel series, described as "paranormal science fiction romance conspiracy." Indeed. Anyway, he's reading me a part about the main character and his mother; the mother asks her son to play Moonlight Sonata for her on the piano. ! I hadn't read or told my husband any of this beforehand.

Piano Ghost by Regan Lee, abstract expressionism, acrylic on canvas, 2000?

Piano and childhood; must have more an impact on my subconscious than I realize. I painted this abstract expressionist style painting about ten years ago, and titled it "Piano Ghost."

To close things here, last night, I had a dream about my childhood home, moving furniture -- particularly the piano, which sat in our living room (we weren't wealthy by any means, my mom worked "outside the home" but dammit, we had a piano!) -- while my mom remained outside, shouting to us her input. It was a happy dream, but I woke up a little distressed, wondering if this had something to do with my mother's health.