The Dream Catcher

You should see the sculpture I made. Maybe it’s a sculpture. A hanging sculpture. It started off being like a “dream catcher” – like the one you bought for me at the Papago Indian Reservation south of Tucson. Then it grew and became something else. Something more. The catcher part became a small human figure. It is made of glass and cord twisted and knotted. The figure lays on its side. Around it are hanging bits of crystal and glass. Most are clear, shaped like drops and some are cut to catch the light so they glisten in even faint light. All of the ones towards the bottom are red glass. They, too, are cut so they catch the light or leave red shadows at times. It gleams and flashes in the sunlight and the breeze. I am sure I read emotion in it but to me, it is bright, beautiful, and so sad.  If only it could capture those dreams. You know I don’t mean happy ones for those are too wispy to hold. No. I mean the others, of which I will not speak. I named it “Catching the Dreams Washed Away By a Mother’s Tears”.