(Entered in paper journal at 8:19 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was at the house of my old friends R and L. It looked like a small version of their previous place. The lights were off, except in a room off to the side. I stood with R, who had, apparently, invited me to dinner.
L showed up from one of the dark rooms. She said she hadn't expected me for dinner. She hadn't made anything yet, but she could go out and buy something.
It was getting late. I thought it would be really inconvenient to wait while she or we went out to get something and then cook it. It also seemed like L didn't really want me here to begin with. So I didn't feel like accepting the offer. But I accepted.
Dream #2
I was with a group of students touring through something like a giant mansion. We had gone through a number of rooms and were finally on something like the top floor. The room we were in was small and tiled, something like a small, run-down kitchen. To my right and before me were two doorways. From the doorway to my right came a golden beam of sunlight. The doorway before me led to something like a dining room, furnished in an older style, with a big, wooden table in the center.
Everybody walked around the kitchen, talking casually. I looked above the doorway to the dining room. The space between the doorway's top and the ceiling was only a couple inches. There were half-rotted, white tiles in the space. The tiles had words printed on them in blue. One of the last words printed was "respect." Some of the tiles were so rotted that I couldn't read them.
I was suddenly inspired. I tried to take a photo of the word "respect." I now knew that I was involved in some film project. At some point in the film's narrative, the character (that I played?) looks at the front of some temple, and sees a statement written on it about respect. I thought that if I could film the word "respect" on this tile closely enough, I could make it look like it was actually on the front of the temple of the film. This temple probably stood in one of the rooms downstairs.
I had a camera, but not a film camera. I walked into the dining room and sat at the table to think about how I was going to get back downstairs in order to get my film camera. A lot of the others sat down at the table with me. I sat either at the head or on the right side of the table.
It must have been cold in the room: we were all wearing big coats. I kept having to blow my nose, using brown paper towels. I kept on using and using and wadding up paper towels until I had a big, shaggy, mostly dry ball of paper towels before me.
From another doorway on the wall opposite the wall to the kitchen, a woman walked into the dining room. The woman was tallish, with a large, matronly figure. She wore warmly colored, knit wool clothes. She had tan-red skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Her voice was flattish and no-nonsense, but nice and motherly.
The woman told us, as if we were all high school students (and I felt like everybody except for me was), that our lunch break still wasn't for another twenty or thirty minutes, so we shouldn't sit down and take a break yet. She then became gentle and told us that she understood. It was cold, we were bored, and, besides, could high school students really be expected to take all this stuff in?
I suddenly remembered that I should be taking care of filming the word "respect." I really needed to be thinking seriously about that. I then realized that I had left my camera in the kitchen. I stood up quickly and went into the kitchen. I may have been looking for my camera when everybody else began walking into the kitchen.
No comments:
Post a Comment