1/21/10
At my grandmother's. Walking in the forest. It's very dense and the grass is incredibly high or I'm very small. There are insects and I keep finding dragonflies that have had the wings torn off--but not really torn off, because they're more like mechanical things or Legos where the wings snap off, but they're still suffering. I have to crush one to put it out of its misery and I'm upset. I climb up a slanted roof and see I'm about twenty feet above the ground. Everyone is cautioning me but I just jump down. I have stuff to do.
I leaf through a dictionary. I'm trying to find a certain kind of rat. I'm pretty sure it starts with the letter F. The illustrations or descriptions start to rise up off the page. There's a really scary one of potatoes or apples covered in hair or mold and spiderwebs. I get a little squeamish but keep looking and laugh with relief when I see it's just leftover Halloween decorations. I also realize I don't have to worry about finding the rats because I can just scoop up as many as I need from the living illustration. I fill my pockets with soft rats.
I pass by the big cage where my grandmother's rabbit is kept. I take it out to pet it and say goodbye and it faints in my hands. Feeling sort of guilty but hilarious, I put it back and make a big show of covering it with its soft blanket.
I go to the next room. Everything else has been dusty and dark and hairy, but here in my cousin's house it's all glossy and expensive-looking. There's a huge aquarium. They have adorable new pets, three big snails each with three antennae that get bigger as I watch. I realize that they're not real animals but like toys? Animation? Robots? Clones? I'm a little disappointed but I still have affection for them as if they were animals. The aquarium keeps getting bigger until it's over my head, or I'm in it. There's something else in the water besides the snails, like a big slow eel or catfish, white and long, that passes over our heads.
Later, Nap.
I'm at home in VA. My brother, his wife, my mom and two of my bro's friends are around. One of them is a stranger. Our friend B is in the kitchen. In the living room, we're waiting for a message, or the phones are screwed up or something. I keep reaching for the stranger's outmoded phone and picking it up. I'm embarassed but he doesn't seem to mind. I finally go to the kitchen to see what's the matter and find a bunch of swinging beepers in the tent-like play room.
I take the bus home. I offer half my sandwich to a woman on the bus. I've been carrrying her broken glasses and I sheepishly offer them back when I have to get off.
C and I walk down the snowy street. At first we're laughing but then we're throwing snowballs and it gets competetive. The snow falls apart in my hands, it's too dry, and I just throw handfulls of snow dust at her back. Finally I'm trapped in some deep snow and C dumps a shovelful of dirty snow on my head. I threaten her that it's the end of the friendship. I get up and walk away. She and a friend follow me. I start explaining in outrage why that's not an okay thing to do but soon it becomes clear that she and her friend are dealing with something much more serious--a love rivalry? We get to the tent like play room and go in. I turn a plastic table upright and there are little lights on its corners that light up. I also have like one of those pagers at the Shake Shack that light up when your food is read. C and her friend are recounting the story of Matt, the sports coach that they are both in love with. I'm shocked, because in the dream C is back in high school. She's speaking raptly and even laughing. It turns out the coach is also some kind of monster. I'm mostly worried about him being too old.
What an awesome series of dreams. I have been getting some serious sleep lately because of my cold but since I had to wake up with an alarm this morning I think I remember these better.
Animals, especially slightly upsetting animals, or ones that I feel tenderly for, have been a big feature in the dreams lately. Is there something I'm trying to protect? They're all kind of vulnerable but also sinister. Some sort of male genital metaphor?
I've been talking to a couple of people about Reading dreams lately. I think it might just be that we're all reading like crazy. The dictionary is the latest example. There was no text, but it was certainly in book shape and I could turn the pages. Seeing the horrible potatoes covered in hairy stuff was upsetting only until I remembered I could turn the page.
Interesting that I had such an antagonistic dream about C. She came and visited me in New York for the first time last weekend. There wasn't any snow, or confrontation of any kind. We get along well and I'm very fond of her and have vague plots to convince her to move here. I was hyper aware that we're different kinds of girls. Do I not want to have a super feminine friend enter my very guyish/tomboyish social circle?
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Crotchless Garment; Monster Eggs; Art Party; Floating
1/20/10
I showed up to work even though I was sick. I crawled into a giant bed instead and slept while my boss went through papers. When she left I finally got some work done and took my lunch hour running up a grassy slope.
I saw a clip of a television show of Christina Aguilara on SNL wearing a crotchless outfit. I was a little shocked and then scolded myself for being prudish. I saw a preview for a movie about some monster that was like a big embryo. Then I was in a scene of it where there appeared to be fried eggs all over the lawn and people were debating whether we should eat them or not. On the one hand, we would turn into some kind of monster, but on the other we were really hungry.
There's a neighborhood party. It's in some weird combo of Brooklyn and Providence. I go with my Dad and meet up with my cousin and his family and my friend Eric who turns into my Dad. We go from a hip home where someone is making their own jewelery--with mosaics on the floor and tables--to an even hipper bar where people are assembling an installation they make every year. Some people are putting up a big wooden frame, and others are making little puppets out of gloves and mittens. I go to get chicken wings and my old roommate chides me for going off my vegetarian diet. I suspect there might be some cute men down the stairs, so I go down a spiralling, switchbacking staircase. It's hard to negotiate. I jump the last six feet and float silently to the ground. I'm very proud of my leaping abilities.
This was a disjointed but very emotionally vivid dream. I've been sick the last few days and probably not getting enough stimulation outside of potboiler novels (one ghost story, one crime/medical mystery) and watching movies (See No Evil, Hear No Evil and His Girl Friday).
The most disturbing part of the dream was the crotchless outfit. The best part was the floating down the stairs. I really should go to more parties with my Dad, he's very funny and gregarious.
I showed up to work even though I was sick. I crawled into a giant bed instead and slept while my boss went through papers. When she left I finally got some work done and took my lunch hour running up a grassy slope.
I saw a clip of a television show of Christina Aguilara on SNL wearing a crotchless outfit. I was a little shocked and then scolded myself for being prudish. I saw a preview for a movie about some monster that was like a big embryo. Then I was in a scene of it where there appeared to be fried eggs all over the lawn and people were debating whether we should eat them or not. On the one hand, we would turn into some kind of monster, but on the other we were really hungry.
There's a neighborhood party. It's in some weird combo of Brooklyn and Providence. I go with my Dad and meet up with my cousin and his family and my friend Eric who turns into my Dad. We go from a hip home where someone is making their own jewelery--with mosaics on the floor and tables--to an even hipper bar where people are assembling an installation they make every year. Some people are putting up a big wooden frame, and others are making little puppets out of gloves and mittens. I go to get chicken wings and my old roommate chides me for going off my vegetarian diet. I suspect there might be some cute men down the stairs, so I go down a spiralling, switchbacking staircase. It's hard to negotiate. I jump the last six feet and float silently to the ground. I'm very proud of my leaping abilities.
This was a disjointed but very emotionally vivid dream. I've been sick the last few days and probably not getting enough stimulation outside of potboiler novels (one ghost story, one crime/medical mystery) and watching movies (See No Evil, Hear No Evil and His Girl Friday).
The most disturbing part of the dream was the crotchless outfit. The best part was the floating down the stairs. I really should go to more parties with my Dad, he's very funny and gregarious.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Jeans; Mystery: Nautical Symbols; Canal Village
1/15/10
Nick Cave and I break into someone's lovely apartment and fuck in a giant pile of blue jeans. There's a whole wall of them, sort of like a decorative tapestry. We try to get dressed again but there are heaps and heaps of clothes on the floor. I put on a shirt and just grab a pair of pants from the floor. The apartment is old-fashioned looking and pretty.
It's early in the morning and I have to get up. I stumble into the bathroom of the house in VA. I'm reading a mystery book I find there, a really lush high quality paperback by someone named Daevaid. He's a handsome British police commissioner. I can see through a window into my brother's bedroom. He's still in bed, so I guess he must be sick. The laptop is open on his desk and glowing. I tidy up the floor of the bathroom. There's Kleenex all over the floor and I realize I knew already my brother was sick.
My brother comes in but it's not him, it's the mysterious British guy from the book. He's dry and humorous and wearing a wool vest. I head downstairs. Our house is a private school or academic library. The downstairs is appointed with dark wood and rugs and there are long tables where students are eating. I'm waiting for the British guy, my favorite brother, when a young woman who is a student comes up with a question for me. She holds up a large piece of paper--maybe the size of a big menu. I open it up and see that it's full of cryptic writing. Splotchy writing and symbols. A lot of nautical symbols. Sharp crested waves and anchors. I get very excited as I realize I'm looking at a hand written draft of Moby Dick. I look around and see that lots of people have the symbols tattooed onto them. I look down and see that I have one too--waves on my wrist.
I go on a quest. I'm in a boat in a canal city like Venice, but it's really more of a small village. I keep a sharp lookout for the symbols and tattoos.
This was a very pretty, good humored dream. I'm impressed by the idea of space in it. In the bathroom in VA, the place where there was a window to see into my brother's room would actually open onto the room.
It's hard to read things in dreams. I was talking to my best friend later that day, who also had dreams where he had to read things and fill out forms, and then one of my clients (he just turned in a manuscript) said he had dreamed about getting notes from me but they were indecipherable because they were on faded 70s Polaroids. I was very pleased that I've gotten to the point with this client that we're talking about our dreams.
Nick Cave and I break into someone's lovely apartment and fuck in a giant pile of blue jeans. There's a whole wall of them, sort of like a decorative tapestry. We try to get dressed again but there are heaps and heaps of clothes on the floor. I put on a shirt and just grab a pair of pants from the floor. The apartment is old-fashioned looking and pretty.
It's early in the morning and I have to get up. I stumble into the bathroom of the house in VA. I'm reading a mystery book I find there, a really lush high quality paperback by someone named Daevaid. He's a handsome British police commissioner. I can see through a window into my brother's bedroom. He's still in bed, so I guess he must be sick. The laptop is open on his desk and glowing. I tidy up the floor of the bathroom. There's Kleenex all over the floor and I realize I knew already my brother was sick.
My brother comes in but it's not him, it's the mysterious British guy from the book. He's dry and humorous and wearing a wool vest. I head downstairs. Our house is a private school or academic library. The downstairs is appointed with dark wood and rugs and there are long tables where students are eating. I'm waiting for the British guy, my favorite brother, when a young woman who is a student comes up with a question for me. She holds up a large piece of paper--maybe the size of a big menu. I open it up and see that it's full of cryptic writing. Splotchy writing and symbols. A lot of nautical symbols. Sharp crested waves and anchors. I get very excited as I realize I'm looking at a hand written draft of Moby Dick. I look around and see that lots of people have the symbols tattooed onto them. I look down and see that I have one too--waves on my wrist.
I go on a quest. I'm in a boat in a canal city like Venice, but it's really more of a small village. I keep a sharp lookout for the symbols and tattoos.
This was a very pretty, good humored dream. I'm impressed by the idea of space in it. In the bathroom in VA, the place where there was a window to see into my brother's room would actually open onto the room.
It's hard to read things in dreams. I was talking to my best friend later that day, who also had dreams where he had to read things and fill out forms, and then one of my clients (he just turned in a manuscript) said he had dreamed about getting notes from me but they were indecipherable because they were on faded 70s Polaroids. I was very pleased that I've gotten to the point with this client that we're talking about our dreams.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Vampire Office; No Dog; Waverly Root Biography
1/11/10
In an office building. The scene of exciting chase and rivalry-between two businesspeople? There was also a vampire-like character. Finally, I was there with my friend S, who was using the computer to write a report. She wrote an impressive amount.
I met a guy there who was determined to be my boyfriend. We kissed hard against the wall. I tepidly followed him back to his nice suburban bungalow. I had been looking forward to seeing his dog. He showed me the dog pajamas he had. The dog was away and I was very disappointed. There were cats there too, and he started making a special dish for them. I had to taste the cat food, which was very vivid in the dream. His mother asked me about my vision and I explained I was near sighted. On their bookshelf I noticed a tattered old volume, but it had my name on it. It was a biography of Waverly Root that Kurt Vonnegut and I had written. I opened it up and read a passage out loud, and while being secretly disappointed that no adventures happened in that passage, I said that it sounded like James Thurber, didn't it?
A dream about pale disappointment. I was aware of disappointing the boy, which offset my own disgruntlement some. I don't actually know anything about Waverly Root except that he's a food writer and his name is cool.
In an office building. The scene of exciting chase and rivalry-between two businesspeople? There was also a vampire-like character. Finally, I was there with my friend S, who was using the computer to write a report. She wrote an impressive amount.
I met a guy there who was determined to be my boyfriend. We kissed hard against the wall. I tepidly followed him back to his nice suburban bungalow. I had been looking forward to seeing his dog. He showed me the dog pajamas he had. The dog was away and I was very disappointed. There were cats there too, and he started making a special dish for them. I had to taste the cat food, which was very vivid in the dream. His mother asked me about my vision and I explained I was near sighted. On their bookshelf I noticed a tattered old volume, but it had my name on it. It was a biography of Waverly Root that Kurt Vonnegut and I had written. I opened it up and read a passage out loud, and while being secretly disappointed that no adventures happened in that passage, I said that it sounded like James Thurber, didn't it?
A dream about pale disappointment. I was aware of disappointing the boy, which offset my own disgruntlement some. I don't actually know anything about Waverly Root except that he's a food writer and his name is cool.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Forest Band; Big Rabbits; Dust
1/8/10
I'm in a forest/living room with my buddy B. We're playing rock band. His tiny passive aggressive neighbor woman cmes over to complain. I sit down in the moss and look at maple trees. Two friends come by and ask what I've learned. I say glumly that I've learned C. I was playing key boards and hitting a button every time a tiny glowing blue C appeared. Then I make up for my slow learning by saying I can identify trees. Looking around, I see oak, maple, and sweet gum.
I'm in M's new book. I'm one of the young girls in the woods, playing pretend. This forest is very hilly. I go deeper into the woods and see huge rabbits playing on the hill. They laugh so hard that they fall over.
On Covey Island with my father and stepmother. I have a huge suitcase, and when I unpack it, the dark clothes are covered with light colored dust.
I'm driving a huge car.
Well, now it looks like the big car dream is at the end of the night.
I keep having these very beautiful, bucolic dreams. Odd since I live in the city. But I do go to Central Park every day. That's where I try to brainstorm about my writing. There's a a grove next to a bridge with a giant beech tree that's especially helpful.
I'm in a forest/living room with my buddy B. We're playing rock band. His tiny passive aggressive neighbor woman cmes over to complain. I sit down in the moss and look at maple trees. Two friends come by and ask what I've learned. I say glumly that I've learned C. I was playing key boards and hitting a button every time a tiny glowing blue C appeared. Then I make up for my slow learning by saying I can identify trees. Looking around, I see oak, maple, and sweet gum.
I'm in M's new book. I'm one of the young girls in the woods, playing pretend. This forest is very hilly. I go deeper into the woods and see huge rabbits playing on the hill. They laugh so hard that they fall over.
On Covey Island with my father and stepmother. I have a huge suitcase, and when I unpack it, the dark clothes are covered with light colored dust.
I'm driving a huge car.
Well, now it looks like the big car dream is at the end of the night.
I keep having these very beautiful, bucolic dreams. Odd since I live in the city. But I do go to Central Park every day. That's where I try to brainstorm about my writing. There's a a grove next to a bridge with a giant beech tree that's especially helpful.
White Rose; School Theatricals; Shopping For Glass
1/6/10
Going on a trip. Bundling kids into a van
Visiting a boyfriend at the cafeteria of a big business or college. I don't recognize who the boyfriend was, but he was nerdy. We have lunch with two friends, British brothers named Tom and Sam who think I'm funny. Go back to bf's house and kiss but when it's time for sex I insist on a condom. He's holding a white rose. I'm not sure if the rose is intended for me or if he's in love with the rose himself. He refuses to have sex and I'm terribly upset. I go upstairs where he has a row of old boom boxes.
In a class. I look at an old picture of grade school. We're in a school theater--makeshift out of the cafeteria or something. Student groups present skits. They're wearing beautiful clothes from a costume box. Old tablecloths and curtains with beautiful patterns are folded into tunics and robes. I am watching myself in a skit. It's about a time traveling black kid.
I babysit my niece. She wants me to read Where The Wild Things Are.
I go to a big department store. It's like a cross between a sketchy discount store like Ocean State Job Lot and H&M or something. The front is a grocery store and I compare the price of broccoli raab. In the display is a tiny Christmas tree decorated with a sparkling boot. I wander into the clothing section and go to try on a blouse when I find I've taken off my pants. I manage to get them back on and abandon the clothes for a section of the store that's a junk shop. I find boxes full of bottles made of Roman glass and old boxes of film.
This dream had some anxiety but the colors and patterns were very beautiful. At the end, the Roman glass was the most spectacular. It's old glass that's semi-melted or something and has an iridescent sheen to it.
For some reason, when I dream of school, which I do a fair amount, the students are always middle school aged black kids. I used to teach at a non-profit and while my students were almost all black, they were my age.
Going on a trip. Bundling kids into a van
Visiting a boyfriend at the cafeteria of a big business or college. I don't recognize who the boyfriend was, but he was nerdy. We have lunch with two friends, British brothers named Tom and Sam who think I'm funny. Go back to bf's house and kiss but when it's time for sex I insist on a condom. He's holding a white rose. I'm not sure if the rose is intended for me or if he's in love with the rose himself. He refuses to have sex and I'm terribly upset. I go upstairs where he has a row of old boom boxes.
In a class. I look at an old picture of grade school. We're in a school theater--makeshift out of the cafeteria or something. Student groups present skits. They're wearing beautiful clothes from a costume box. Old tablecloths and curtains with beautiful patterns are folded into tunics and robes. I am watching myself in a skit. It's about a time traveling black kid.
I babysit my niece. She wants me to read Where The Wild Things Are.
I go to a big department store. It's like a cross between a sketchy discount store like Ocean State Job Lot and H&M or something. The front is a grocery store and I compare the price of broccoli raab. In the display is a tiny Christmas tree decorated with a sparkling boot. I wander into the clothing section and go to try on a blouse when I find I've taken off my pants. I manage to get them back on and abandon the clothes for a section of the store that's a junk shop. I find boxes full of bottles made of Roman glass and old boxes of film.
This dream had some anxiety but the colors and patterns were very beautiful. At the end, the Roman glass was the most spectacular. It's old glass that's semi-melted or something and has an iridescent sheen to it.
For some reason, when I dream of school, which I do a fair amount, the students are always middle school aged black kids. I used to teach at a non-profit and while my students were almost all black, they were my age.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Festival; C Brings Goodies
1/3/10
Again with P's screenplay! I'm at a big outdoor festival--it's like a school fair or a Scottish games thing or something. P's brother is there and tells me grimly that the reading of the screenplay has been cancelled but he doesn't have a ride so he's stuck at the festival for another two hours.
C comes to visit me en route to somewhere else. She brings all kinds of things--sketches by a famous artist, an old-fashioned cloth doll, an old Walkman, and a really great biology book. I start reading the book and see illustrations of snakes and pine cones. The preface tells the story of an amateur naturalist who duelled with some other guy and cut off his hand. C brags to JF that she knows David Bowie.
It's weird that I keep dreaming of P's screenplay. I don't even see P that much. And the show itself is usually only alluded to.
C and I talked about her visiting but we didn't work it out. It's too bad. She'd be an ideal buddy for me to have in New York. I really want to talk her into living here.
Again with P's screenplay! I'm at a big outdoor festival--it's like a school fair or a Scottish games thing or something. P's brother is there and tells me grimly that the reading of the screenplay has been cancelled but he doesn't have a ride so he's stuck at the festival for another two hours.
C comes to visit me en route to somewhere else. She brings all kinds of things--sketches by a famous artist, an old-fashioned cloth doll, an old Walkman, and a really great biology book. I start reading the book and see illustrations of snakes and pine cones. The preface tells the story of an amateur naturalist who duelled with some other guy and cut off his hand. C brags to JF that she knows David Bowie.
It's weird that I keep dreaming of P's screenplay. I don't even see P that much. And the show itself is usually only alluded to.
C and I talked about her visiting but we didn't work it out. It's too bad. She'd be an ideal buddy for me to have in New York. I really want to talk her into living here.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
At The Show; Reading On The Rooftop; Sweet Gum Tree
12/30/09
I was on my way to see Saturday Night Live with O and was complaining that there weren't enough women in the cast.
I was seated at a big round table with my mother. Someone who was a stand in for JM was there and kept talking. I told him to shut up.
I go to meet P at his apartment, in a twisty, confusing series of streets. It reminds me of Providence. Clouds of colored smoke vent onto the street. P comes out of his apartment looking freshly scrubbed. We go to a nearby rooftop to read through his latest play. He starts reading it to me in a really hammy way and I start laughing when someone appears behind him on the roof. More and more people come out, a whole junior high school class.
On the rooftop are also a whole collection of Gossip Girl books. I pick one up and read the back. It's a bout a teenager's problem when she finds out her mom is having an affair with three generations of men.
Walking under a sweet gum tree. My boss is there and I identify the tree for her by the pom poms it grows. They're huge and exaggerated and soft instead of spiny.
I continue to enjoy mental fights with my ex JM. What a dick.
I was on my way to see Saturday Night Live with O and was complaining that there weren't enough women in the cast.
I was seated at a big round table with my mother. Someone who was a stand in for JM was there and kept talking. I told him to shut up.
I go to meet P at his apartment, in a twisty, confusing series of streets. It reminds me of Providence. Clouds of colored smoke vent onto the street. P comes out of his apartment looking freshly scrubbed. We go to a nearby rooftop to read through his latest play. He starts reading it to me in a really hammy way and I start laughing when someone appears behind him on the roof. More and more people come out, a whole junior high school class.
On the rooftop are also a whole collection of Gossip Girl books. I pick one up and read the back. It's a bout a teenager's problem when she finds out her mom is having an affair with three generations of men.
Walking under a sweet gum tree. My boss is there and I identify the tree for her by the pom poms it grows. They're huge and exaggerated and soft instead of spiny.
I continue to enjoy mental fights with my ex JM. What a dick.
Dinner Theater Murder; Lost At Morehouse; Leaves
12/31/09
Murder mystery dinner theater. Everyone thought it was this middle aged guy Sterling but it turned out to be his elderly lady friend. I felt proud for staying friends with Sterling even though everyone was accusing him.
We took a rental place near the theater for the show. A family normally lived there and we could see all their stuff around, like pictures from fishing trips and the marks on the doorframe to measure kids' heights. Standing in the hallway by the measurements there was a big mirror. I stood in front of the mirror and raised up on my toes to make myself taller. This increased my height by four feet until my head was brushing the ceiling. I felt smug.
Going to a japanese restaurant with young friends. Someone upset a dish of barbecued eel and I helped clean up the sauce.
Lost with my mom. We were reading a novel set at Morehouse college and we were trying to find someone's house (the character? the author) using the book. We stumbled into a building that we thought might be a college building but turned out to be a private house full of fancy furnishings and knick knacks. On our way out we argued about the best way to find ourselves. I wanted to use my phone and Kristie wanted to use a topographical map. We ran into a little man and stopped him for directions. He was very indignant and said that was his house. I felt he was being stupid and could lock it if he cared. I yelled back that I had eaten his roasted chicken too.
We found remarkable autumn leaves. Two of them stuck together and when they separated the image of one is imprinted on the other. They are rosy pink.
I'm missing the final section of this dream. I have just a vague impression of office setting and very nice neckties.
I really liked the part of the dream where I could stretch up on my feet and be enormously tall.
Murder mystery dinner theater. Everyone thought it was this middle aged guy Sterling but it turned out to be his elderly lady friend. I felt proud for staying friends with Sterling even though everyone was accusing him.
We took a rental place near the theater for the show. A family normally lived there and we could see all their stuff around, like pictures from fishing trips and the marks on the doorframe to measure kids' heights. Standing in the hallway by the measurements there was a big mirror. I stood in front of the mirror and raised up on my toes to make myself taller. This increased my height by four feet until my head was brushing the ceiling. I felt smug.
Going to a japanese restaurant with young friends. Someone upset a dish of barbecued eel and I helped clean up the sauce.
Lost with my mom. We were reading a novel set at Morehouse college and we were trying to find someone's house (the character? the author) using the book. We stumbled into a building that we thought might be a college building but turned out to be a private house full of fancy furnishings and knick knacks. On our way out we argued about the best way to find ourselves. I wanted to use my phone and Kristie wanted to use a topographical map. We ran into a little man and stopped him for directions. He was very indignant and said that was his house. I felt he was being stupid and could lock it if he cared. I yelled back that I had eaten his roasted chicken too.
We found remarkable autumn leaves. Two of them stuck together and when they separated the image of one is imprinted on the other. They are rosy pink.
I'm missing the final section of this dream. I have just a vague impression of office setting and very nice neckties.
I really liked the part of the dream where I could stretch up on my feet and be enormously tall.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Portrait With Pig; Singing In Public; The Skeleton Game
12/27/09
I was reading a book and it was coming apart at the spine but I saw it as a movie. A Bruce Willis character is saving a child or a small animal. Lots of dull, snowy landscape.
I was researching the early life of a mysterious woman. There was a book on her famous escape, and the book had black and white pictures of the important people in her life, posed in tableaux with elaborate costumes and hair styles. In one of them, a tall elderly woman with long white hair in braids stands on a stone terrace. At her feet is a large pig.
P and I are talking about our writing projects. He's off to work with his brother. We're all standing on a subway platform that's across from a big suburban supermarket. He offers me something from a big bag that I think is a potato chip but it turns out to be a kind of crisp chocolate chip cookie called a "Ladybug". We get onto the train which is arranged in tiers like the seats of an outdoor stadium and we arrange all of our crap around--backbacks and cookies and bottles. We go to an outdoor restaurant where someone invites a slender black woman with platinum blond hair and a long cigarette holder to step out of her black and white picture and sing. I feel awkward. I haven't practiced and I'm worried about horning in, but everyone is singing. I join in briefly but I don't even know the words. I stand next to a tall girl who is singing the harmony part and I think glumly that I don't even know what notes I would sing.
There's a preview for a new video game based on those plastic hanging monkeys that link together. It has two clayamation boys, one black and one white, playing basketball in the clay tropics. One of them lies down on the court and peels off his own skin, revealing his clay skeleton. The other boy does the same and the skeletons get up and link together through rib cages and jaws. Suddenly it's a pile of tiny, real bones and I'm working with someone to sort them out. It's very frustrating. The bones are blobby rectangles, except for the skull bones, which snap together along the jaws.
I'm rubbing lotion onto my hands. They're very dry and covered with veins of white cracks. I can't feel the lotion but I watch it erase the dry flaking white streaks.
I climb into the bed in the basement in VA. Other people keep coming in and interrupting me as I try to nap.
This was a very visually beautiful dream. The elements probably come from the last couple of days in Virginia. I made chocolate chip cookies with some special chips my step-father had, which were extra large and on the cookies that came out symmetrical they looked like ladybugs.
We also saw Sherlock Holmes yesterday which had a scene with pigs in a slaughterhouse and of course ladies with elaborate hair. I only realized at the end of the movie that it was directed by Guy Ritchie, which would explain the pigs, the bareknuckle boxing, and the jump cuts that made me want to hurl. But it was a pretty entertaining movie.
The thing that impressed me most about this dream was that I could pick out both the melody and the harmony of the chorus that was singing. It's strange that I wasn't able to sing along. Where did the words come from? I can't remember if it was a real song that I recognized. Was it Blue Skies?
I was reading a book and it was coming apart at the spine but I saw it as a movie. A Bruce Willis character is saving a child or a small animal. Lots of dull, snowy landscape.
I was researching the early life of a mysterious woman. There was a book on her famous escape, and the book had black and white pictures of the important people in her life, posed in tableaux with elaborate costumes and hair styles. In one of them, a tall elderly woman with long white hair in braids stands on a stone terrace. At her feet is a large pig.
P and I are talking about our writing projects. He's off to work with his brother. We're all standing on a subway platform that's across from a big suburban supermarket. He offers me something from a big bag that I think is a potato chip but it turns out to be a kind of crisp chocolate chip cookie called a "Ladybug". We get onto the train which is arranged in tiers like the seats of an outdoor stadium and we arrange all of our crap around--backbacks and cookies and bottles. We go to an outdoor restaurant where someone invites a slender black woman with platinum blond hair and a long cigarette holder to step out of her black and white picture and sing. I feel awkward. I haven't practiced and I'm worried about horning in, but everyone is singing. I join in briefly but I don't even know the words. I stand next to a tall girl who is singing the harmony part and I think glumly that I don't even know what notes I would sing.
There's a preview for a new video game based on those plastic hanging monkeys that link together. It has two clayamation boys, one black and one white, playing basketball in the clay tropics. One of them lies down on the court and peels off his own skin, revealing his clay skeleton. The other boy does the same and the skeletons get up and link together through rib cages and jaws. Suddenly it's a pile of tiny, real bones and I'm working with someone to sort them out. It's very frustrating. The bones are blobby rectangles, except for the skull bones, which snap together along the jaws.
I'm rubbing lotion onto my hands. They're very dry and covered with veins of white cracks. I can't feel the lotion but I watch it erase the dry flaking white streaks.
I climb into the bed in the basement in VA. Other people keep coming in and interrupting me as I try to nap.
This was a very visually beautiful dream. The elements probably come from the last couple of days in Virginia. I made chocolate chip cookies with some special chips my step-father had, which were extra large and on the cookies that came out symmetrical they looked like ladybugs.
We also saw Sherlock Holmes yesterday which had a scene with pigs in a slaughterhouse and of course ladies with elaborate hair. I only realized at the end of the movie that it was directed by Guy Ritchie, which would explain the pigs, the bareknuckle boxing, and the jump cuts that made me want to hurl. But it was a pretty entertaining movie.
The thing that impressed me most about this dream was that I could pick out both the melody and the harmony of the chorus that was singing. It's strange that I wasn't able to sing along. Where did the words come from? I can't remember if it was a real song that I recognized. Was it Blue Skies?
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Tree Reading; Deli Scam
I was at the office working on a book about a mystery taking place at a bourgeois wedding. For some reason while I was reading it I was scaling an enormous coniferous tree. The bark was very thick and someone had carved holes in it big enough for my feet. I would thrust my feet in and climb up, my body perpendicular to the tree. I was pretty far up when my boss came out and asked how the book was. I described it and she wrinkled her nose and said there were a lot of wedding mystery books out there. Then we went to her garden and picked vegetables together. I remember some leafy green and lots of dill.
I was part of a pack of homeless children. It was my job to con deli men. I went in and started weeping and asking for sandwiches. He winked and said if he sold me the bread and cheese separately it would be cheaper. I was touched by his kindness. An older lady came in and rudely pre-empted my order and asked for an elaborately decorated cake ("Put a picture of a swinger on it, you know like a man of the world and then the edges should have violets with stems. And some fresh fruit.") The deli man pointed out my suffering and I looked in my purse and found a flower made of pineapple and strawberry.
I was in my high school theater and we were doing a show. I was mostly watching. It was a blast.
Well, except for the tree and the vegetables, that's pretty much my job. I think the vegetables might be related to an incident when I was about five. My boss's daughter was my best friend in kindergarten and we went to their country house and my friend showed me dill plants. I'd never had dill or bagels before. I'm not crazy about dill, but I loved seeing that enormous plant and my friend's excitement.
The deli scam reminds me of the book Homecoming. It's a YA book I only read this year because my client said it was a lot like her book. Which it is.
I was part of a pack of homeless children. It was my job to con deli men. I went in and started weeping and asking for sandwiches. He winked and said if he sold me the bread and cheese separately it would be cheaper. I was touched by his kindness. An older lady came in and rudely pre-empted my order and asked for an elaborately decorated cake ("Put a picture of a swinger on it, you know like a man of the world and then the edges should have violets with stems. And some fresh fruit.") The deli man pointed out my suffering and I looked in my purse and found a flower made of pineapple and strawberry.
I was in my high school theater and we were doing a show. I was mostly watching. It was a blast.
Well, except for the tree and the vegetables, that's pretty much my job. I think the vegetables might be related to an incident when I was about five. My boss's daughter was my best friend in kindergarten and we went to their country house and my friend showed me dill plants. I'd never had dill or bagels before. I'm not crazy about dill, but I loved seeing that enormous plant and my friend's excitement.
The deli scam reminds me of the book Homecoming. It's a YA book I only read this year because my client said it was a lot like her book. Which it is.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Map; Books & Bubblegum; Dog Rescue!
12-23-09
I'm in an unfamiliar countryside. It reminds me of Covey Island and the landscapes I was reading about in Isak Dinesan. I can see a map of the town hanging up behind and sometimes shifting to the ground. The borders are changing constantly. It's tan and blue and green. A young man has a fiancee but he falls in love with a girl in one of the cottages named Pea (pronounced Pia).
I'm sleepy. To refresh myself, I pick up a soft white poodle and mush my face into the fur of its back.
A and A are waiting for me in a dilapidated college rec room. They're annoyed that they've had to wait so long. "Why didn't you call me or make plans?"
"We knew you'd be here eventually," they explain.
In an old house, but it's a dorm for a sort of summer camp. I'm in a room on the mezzanine. J and a friend of his I don't know also have a room. We have lots of adventures--going to the local fast food store and talking about sci fi, getting books and giving them to the thugette who lives in our building, and my cell phone breaks. I worry about the phone--how will I make plans? J's friend kisses me when I have a mouth full of bubblegum. Later, he and J give me a bundle of precious books from an old professor at my college. His signature is just a bundle of fresh pasta. Included in the package, almost as an afterthought, are four antique pens, made of a alabaster and melamine. They have names and short slogans on them. They're very beautiful and I'm delighted with them. The friend is worried about keeping our romance a secret. I explained that J once told me he had a crush on me but other than that I don't care one way or another.
Outside of the dorm, some kids are tormenting a chihuahua by feeding it too much sugar and caffeine. I tenderly lay the sleeping dog on a chair arm. The kids pour coffee into the dog's mouth and I flip out and attack the two fat girls who are ring leaders. I bite one on the stomach and then run. I make it back to the dorm with plenty of time.
There's a book on how to use modern appliances to stop dinosaur related annoyances.
This was my ideal kind of dream, with lots of lush detail, romance, and connected narratives. And a fight. Some of my favorite themes were present, books and old houses, and I really enjoyed the map part of the dream. I liked watching the romance of the young man and Pea unfold from a distance. I didn't have a physical presence in that part of the dream.
I often dream of dogs, although I've never had one and don't have regular contact with them. I see them every day in the dog park. I looked at some dream dictionaries under dogs and was not really satisfied. http://dreamhawk.com/animald2.htm#dog
The dogs in my dreams are usually happy and friendly. Sometimes I'm rescuing them. I don't buy that they're stand ins for my sexuality because I have pretty explicitly sexy dreams. I'm usually glad to see the dogs though.
I'm interested in the part of the dream where I worried about telling J that his friend liked me. I tend to date within an extended network of friends since I don't like dating strangers. This leads to awkward situations sometimes. This wasn't really resolved in the dream, although in real life J has been anything but awkward and in fact asks me about my love life. It's on my mind, though. Over the past week I've seen both members of a married couple who have set me up with chums. I've been out with three of their friends and both remarked, not unkindly, that they were running out of eligible men for me and I felt like a dork.
The images that struck me most and made me happiest from the dream were the map and the pens.
I'm in an unfamiliar countryside. It reminds me of Covey Island and the landscapes I was reading about in Isak Dinesan. I can see a map of the town hanging up behind and sometimes shifting to the ground. The borders are changing constantly. It's tan and blue and green. A young man has a fiancee but he falls in love with a girl in one of the cottages named Pea (pronounced Pia).
I'm sleepy. To refresh myself, I pick up a soft white poodle and mush my face into the fur of its back.
A and A are waiting for me in a dilapidated college rec room. They're annoyed that they've had to wait so long. "Why didn't you call me or make plans?"
"We knew you'd be here eventually," they explain.
In an old house, but it's a dorm for a sort of summer camp. I'm in a room on the mezzanine. J and a friend of his I don't know also have a room. We have lots of adventures--going to the local fast food store and talking about sci fi, getting books and giving them to the thugette who lives in our building, and my cell phone breaks. I worry about the phone--how will I make plans? J's friend kisses me when I have a mouth full of bubblegum. Later, he and J give me a bundle of precious books from an old professor at my college. His signature is just a bundle of fresh pasta. Included in the package, almost as an afterthought, are four antique pens, made of a alabaster and melamine. They have names and short slogans on them. They're very beautiful and I'm delighted with them. The friend is worried about keeping our romance a secret. I explained that J once told me he had a crush on me but other than that I don't care one way or another.
Outside of the dorm, some kids are tormenting a chihuahua by feeding it too much sugar and caffeine. I tenderly lay the sleeping dog on a chair arm. The kids pour coffee into the dog's mouth and I flip out and attack the two fat girls who are ring leaders. I bite one on the stomach and then run. I make it back to the dorm with plenty of time.
There's a book on how to use modern appliances to stop dinosaur related annoyances.
This was my ideal kind of dream, with lots of lush detail, romance, and connected narratives. And a fight. Some of my favorite themes were present, books and old houses, and I really enjoyed the map part of the dream. I liked watching the romance of the young man and Pea unfold from a distance. I didn't have a physical presence in that part of the dream.
I often dream of dogs, although I've never had one and don't have regular contact with them. I see them every day in the dog park. I looked at some dream dictionaries under dogs and was not really satisfied. http://dreamhawk.com/animald2.htm#dog
The dogs in my dreams are usually happy and friendly. Sometimes I'm rescuing them. I don't buy that they're stand ins for my sexuality because I have pretty explicitly sexy dreams. I'm usually glad to see the dogs though.
I'm interested in the part of the dream where I worried about telling J that his friend liked me. I tend to date within an extended network of friends since I don't like dating strangers. This leads to awkward situations sometimes. This wasn't really resolved in the dream, although in real life J has been anything but awkward and in fact asks me about my love life. It's on my mind, though. Over the past week I've seen both members of a married couple who have set me up with chums. I've been out with three of their friends and both remarked, not unkindly, that they were running out of eligible men for me and I felt like a dork.
The images that struck me most and made me happiest from the dream were the map and the pens.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Belt and Well; Gas Station Bogeyman; Brooklyn Bridge; Mirror Play
12/20/09
I do a reading but demur on reading my own book and read from M's instead. It's a comic book and I feel like a dork for backing out of reading of my own work. It's awkward describing the drawings in the story to the audience.
M, J and I go to the drugstore for toothpaste. I'm suddenly drunk and lurching around, trying to get to the fancy flavored stuff. There's a loutish man in my way and we get into an argument. I challenge him to fight. M and J are worried but I pin the man on the ground and use his belt to tie him up. His belt is very short and I have to try several configurations before I can secure all his limbs. I stuff a cube of maggotty butter in his mouth and throw him down a well. I worry a little that I'll get into trouble but forget about it.
I'm watching P's staged reading of his screenplay. It's a romantic farce at a gas station. Everyone is kissing. Suddenly from a box in the back a character bursts out. It's the guy I threw in the well, who I now see is someone everyone knows about, a bogeyman. The monster is supposed to be missing his right arm and I see the actor has put a black tube sock on his arm to make it invisible against the black curtain. I am relieved. Big applause.
Walking home over the Brooklyn Bridge in a huge crowd of people. I'm climbing over fragile wooden framework when someone behind me shouts "Hey, you gave me the fake name Emily and the wrong phone number when we met in the Beauty Bar." He catches up and I feel slightly bad for tricking him. I agree to take him to a party. It's at M and J's place. It's green, blue and white, and there are floor to ceiling bookshelves in all the rooms. A stoned guy talks to us and he holds up a mirror. Instead of seeing myself in the mirror, I see a play about a pasha and his harem.
This was a very enjoyable dream. I love dreams where I have super strength. Throughout the rest of the dream, I felt like I had power over everything that happened. I was arrogant with the guy who was trying to pick me up. It was also very beautiful. Again with the fragile dark wood and the books.
P actually did do a staged reading of his screenplay. It was about a rock star and was quite funny.
I do a reading but demur on reading my own book and read from M's instead. It's a comic book and I feel like a dork for backing out of reading of my own work. It's awkward describing the drawings in the story to the audience.
M, J and I go to the drugstore for toothpaste. I'm suddenly drunk and lurching around, trying to get to the fancy flavored stuff. There's a loutish man in my way and we get into an argument. I challenge him to fight. M and J are worried but I pin the man on the ground and use his belt to tie him up. His belt is very short and I have to try several configurations before I can secure all his limbs. I stuff a cube of maggotty butter in his mouth and throw him down a well. I worry a little that I'll get into trouble but forget about it.
I'm watching P's staged reading of his screenplay. It's a romantic farce at a gas station. Everyone is kissing. Suddenly from a box in the back a character bursts out. It's the guy I threw in the well, who I now see is someone everyone knows about, a bogeyman. The monster is supposed to be missing his right arm and I see the actor has put a black tube sock on his arm to make it invisible against the black curtain. I am relieved. Big applause.
Walking home over the Brooklyn Bridge in a huge crowd of people. I'm climbing over fragile wooden framework when someone behind me shouts "Hey, you gave me the fake name Emily and the wrong phone number when we met in the Beauty Bar." He catches up and I feel slightly bad for tricking him. I agree to take him to a party. It's at M and J's place. It's green, blue and white, and there are floor to ceiling bookshelves in all the rooms. A stoned guy talks to us and he holds up a mirror. Instead of seeing myself in the mirror, I see a play about a pasha and his harem.
This was a very enjoyable dream. I love dreams where I have super strength. Throughout the rest of the dream, I felt like I had power over everything that happened. I was arrogant with the guy who was trying to pick me up. It was also very beautiful. Again with the fragile dark wood and the books.
P actually did do a staged reading of his screenplay. It was about a rock star and was quite funny.
Reluctant Students; Stacking Saints; Book Show
12/18/09
Troubled by a possible problem at work, I had a lousy night's sleep.
I was trying to teach writing to some indifferent teenagers. I got a very nice edition of a book and gave it to an especially recalcitrant student. It had a beautiful photograph on the cover and gilt edges. She was skeptical and I later found she and another student were planning to sell their books.
I was in a church-like space, and there was a building block type puzzle made of little figurines of a Saint. They stacked like Legos or Linkin Logs, with fitting parts. They were made of dark wood and were very beautiful. They could be built into a tiny cathedral. One monk was sick or possessed and he broke the glass in a dusty diorama of saints eating. He flailed, breaking a fragile wooden bench, and I threw a blanket over him to subdue him.
I was having a book talk on television with M about a YA novel I'm working on at work. The show's house band is a bunch of surly women with lots of heavy make-up. I recognize 3's old band.
I'm beginning to notice that I dream a lot about spaces with dark wood, and especially pieces of fragile furniture made of dark wood. My own room is furnished with light wood and while the pieces are small they're pretty solid. The theme of books is also strong. Especially when I dream of M, who is a woman I would like to befriend.
This was a very visually beautiful dream but I spent most of it quite anxious, maybe reflecting my actual mood. The snafu at work was actually worked out without a wrinkle.
Troubled by a possible problem at work, I had a lousy night's sleep.
I was trying to teach writing to some indifferent teenagers. I got a very nice edition of a book and gave it to an especially recalcitrant student. It had a beautiful photograph on the cover and gilt edges. She was skeptical and I later found she and another student were planning to sell their books.
I was in a church-like space, and there was a building block type puzzle made of little figurines of a Saint. They stacked like Legos or Linkin Logs, with fitting parts. They were made of dark wood and were very beautiful. They could be built into a tiny cathedral. One monk was sick or possessed and he broke the glass in a dusty diorama of saints eating. He flailed, breaking a fragile wooden bench, and I threw a blanket over him to subdue him.
I was having a book talk on television with M about a YA novel I'm working on at work. The show's house band is a bunch of surly women with lots of heavy make-up. I recognize 3's old band.
I'm beginning to notice that I dream a lot about spaces with dark wood, and especially pieces of fragile furniture made of dark wood. My own room is furnished with light wood and while the pieces are small they're pretty solid. The theme of books is also strong. Especially when I dream of M, who is a woman I would like to befriend.
This was a very visually beautiful dream but I spent most of it quite anxious, maybe reflecting my actual mood. The snafu at work was actually worked out without a wrinkle.
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