Red Ochre

I had a dream about six years ago (more or less) about a modern architect making a tall and breathtakingly elegant building that was red ochre in color, inside and out. The dream had a scent of the supernatural about it, and I have remembered its details very vividly. More vividly, even, than the details of real events in my life. I wish I had a talent for drawing, because the architecture of that building and the design of the lush grounds around it was heartrendingly moving. It was spiritual. It was as iconic in my mind's eye as the Eiffel Tower or the Pyramids at Giza.

The building was used for some important diplomatic purpose. The people that gathered inside it had a primal understanding that to be within meant to strive always to be honorable and to move in all ways from the heart. The view from the 3-story windows on the upper floors was panoramic and in harmony with nature's divine proportions. It was stunning.

In my dream I knew the architect. I was immensely proud of him. He was a young man, with dark hair that brushed his forehead and penetrating but kind dark eyes. The kind of eyes that saw you, flaws and all, and accepted you utterly. The kind of eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled or laughed. He wore dark, dramatic, but comfortable clothes. He had gentle and articulate hands.

I have never seen a building like it, but the color was familiar.

The clay used to produce red ochre is thought to be the "red earth" from which the Hebrew's God created Adam in the Book of Genesis.

It has been used as body paint, in creating some of the earliest cave paintings, and in sprinkling over the corpses of the dead. It is one of the pigments (along with vermillion) found on the Shroud of Turin. Australian Aboriginal artists use the pigment in their work. Multiple cultures have used it throughout the history of mankind. Its resemblance to the color of oxidized blood made it a part of religious rites going back to prehistory. It is the color of life, death, and rebirth.

From the womb of the Goddess we have come, and to it we will return. If we can leave behind one red handprint on a sheer rock wall while we are here, then we have done something.