6 August 2026 — Alexandra B.W.

6 August 2026

Last night, I had a strong message from my dreams. I was revisiting Madison, the town in Wisconsin where I went to college. I recalled some familiar faces. Some old friends were around me. There was also a new face, not grounded in reality (no one I know in real life), but who I was familiar with in my dream. A kind of mentor. Back in college, he had given me three fossils. At the time, they seemed meaningless, but he explained to me how they were ripening with age and would continue becoming more and more valuable, although nobody was expecting them to. I remember feeling that honoring and treasuring them was essential and not doing so could be dangerous. They were powerful, and there was an element of caution associated. As I examined them, I realized time had changed them, and they would continue to change. They needed time. Time, reverence, and nurturing. I was not afraid, but I realized I had not been aware of their true nature. Not aware that I had something that would become increasingly valuable. The rest of the details escape me.

My artistic process very much involves excavating fossils of the past. Remains, impressions, traces of those once living things inside me that have died. Cherishing them and watching them ferment, ripen, decay, transform into something new. My fossils are my calling, my story, my gems, my traumas, my beauty, my healing, my defining possessions, the scars on my body and soul, preserved, to be cherished, revered, honored, revisited, worshiped, and coaxed into new meanings. They offer new perspectives, new essences, and the ability to take on new life. They grow and change with me, but they do not define me. To have and to hold. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. As long as we both shall live, and beyond, after I’m gone. They will outlive me, like relics of the past, subsisting for centuries to come.