(10/7/06) violent or tragic history; this house is enormous!; attractive edition

(Entered in dream journal at 8:59 AM at Ozzie's coffee shop on Garfield and 5th in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

Some group with one acronym had a short history that ended violently or tragically. Another group with a similar acronym had a much longer history and may have destroyed or absorbed the first group.

Dream 2

I saw as a rich man chased after somebody through a building, a house. the hallways were very complex and led into enormous rooms. The man may have been with a group of people. He stopped at one point, amazed, and said, "This house is enormous!"

Dream 3

I sat on the floor in a library like a nice college library. I was in a spacious but not very well-known or often-used (or often-cleaned!) room. I had a pile of books. I read from one book, then switched somewhere along the way.

A woman sat to my right, in a wooden chair. She read the same book (but in a different edition?) that I was reading. I saw the book was like a Penguin Classics with a photo on front of a colorful, early Italian Renaissance painting -- almost like an illuminated page with lots of people in red and green and blue clothing.

The book was about some very obscure aspect of art, particularly drawing on the personal experience of someone from medieval (Italy? or Greece?), who had written the book. But, I thought, the book had been written by an American, hadn't it?

I looked at the front of the woman's edition -- it looked like a Dover book. The cover was pale vanilla yellow. It ldelineated the translation of the book. Somehow the book had passed through a number of translators (who were really the authors of the book) -- two of the most recent being Japanese writers whom I admired very much. Finally the book had been written by either the American or the medieval Italian.

I looked at the girl. She was so beautiful. I was happy she, too, was reading this book. I embraced her, cuddled up against her. She stayed still. I couldn't tell whether she liked it. I slumped back down onto the floor. I thought, The last thing someone wants is to be accosted in a library.

I was sure the girl would get up and walk away. But she sat in the chair in a comfortable way, pointing toward me, maybe sitting cradled in the chair with her legs over the arms of the chair and pointing toward me. I knew she had actually liked what I had done.