(Entered in paper journal at 8:15 AM, at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was at a museum, possibly "The Guggenheim." It was dim and greyish inside. The entrance lobby was tall. To the lef of the entrance area was a proscenium-like entrance to the ticket counter, which also seemed to be tall and to hold something like a gift shop.
I may have been at the museum with my girlfriend H, or I may have been waiting for H. I may then have seen my old best friend R. I may have spoken with R for a while, trying not to let him know I had anything to do with H.
R may have walked up a long ramp that went steeply up about thirty feet. The ramp had a grey-painted cement floor and a white-painted, stucco-like, cement barrier handrail. Now H and I may have been walking up the ramp. H may have walked ahead of me.
I got a call from my mother. She said she was going to the Guggenheim in New York. I told her I hoped she had fun. I hung up the phone. I then realized that I was at the Guggenheim.
I may have looked up the ramp (which now may have square-spiraled, like a staircase) to see H about to enter a doorway along the wall. I may have called H down, to come back to the entrance with me so we could meet my family.
We approached the bottom of the ramp and were back in the lobby. My mom and other family members (a bunch of kids, probably "my nephews and niece") stood right at the base of the ramp. I may have tried to make introductions, but I may have found it difficult somehow.
Dream #2
A view of a pool of water on the moon. There were a group of astronauts gathered at the edge of the pool. Only the feet (or boots) of the astronauts could be seen. The scene seemed to be lit -- by movie lighting. The pool itself may have seemed to reflect moonlight as well, oddly enough. The pool now seemed to run under the ledge over which the astronauts crouched.
One astronaut held a rock in his hands. (I could only see the gloved hands.) The astronaut explained that he was going to squeeze the rock to extract water from it. There was then a view of the ledge of the rock over the pool of water.
The ledge, previously being just a few inches tall, now appeared to be feet tall. Shiny, smoothly-polished layers of rock were visible, like a sliced cross-section. The layers were beige, bone-colored, with brownish, rusty-colored cracks separating them.
The astronauts now explained that the crew was going to squeeze the rocks of the ledge over the water, to get water out of them. They seemed to speak as if there were an abundance of water in the rocks. I wondered why they didn't just use the water from the pool. I wondered why the astronauts had to wreck the rock ledge (and, apparently, the rock cave) over the pool of water to extract water, especially when there was such plainly available water under the rocks. It made me a little upset -- it seemed so destructive.
But I reasoned with myself that, although there seemed to be such a great source of water here, it was really small. The source would be easily exhausted, so that the astronauts would then have to start crushing the rocks to get water, anyway. So why not just start crushing rocks right now?
Showing posts with label dream notebook 22. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream notebook 22. Show all posts
Saturday, November 3, 2012
(3/1/10) flying too high
(Entered in paper journal at 6:10 AM, on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
It was a bright, sunny, clear day. I had flown up into the air somehow, and I was now flying over a small, desert town. Beside and just slightly behind me (or possibly just in my head?) was a woman. At first I had floated just over the treetops, then a little bit higher. But now, as the woman and I "spoke" (telepathically, at least to some degree), we floated up a couple hundred feet in the air.
The woman may have spoken about birds -- probably hawks. I now noticed that a bald eagle was flying just below us, maybe ten or fifteen feet below us, wheeling around counter-clockwise and looking up toward us. I knew that the eagle was flying at the top of its range, which I assumed was very high.
I wondered how high I was, and if maybe I was too high. i looked down to the earth below me. The town below was just a spot on a wide expanse of coppery-brown and tan desert land. I could see the curvature of the earth, tilted somewhat. I could see the sky fading to a violet black, as if I were about to leave the earth's atmosphere.
I suddenly felt giddy. I thought, For sure, I'm too high. I now descended rapidly back toward the city. I quickly saw a grid of (red-plastic-roofed?) houses, and I knew I would land on the street between those houses. I felt, however, like I was descending too quickly, and that my impact with the ground would kill me.
Dream #1
It was a bright, sunny, clear day. I had flown up into the air somehow, and I was now flying over a small, desert town. Beside and just slightly behind me (or possibly just in my head?) was a woman. At first I had floated just over the treetops, then a little bit higher. But now, as the woman and I "spoke" (telepathically, at least to some degree), we floated up a couple hundred feet in the air.
The woman may have spoken about birds -- probably hawks. I now noticed that a bald eagle was flying just below us, maybe ten or fifteen feet below us, wheeling around counter-clockwise and looking up toward us. I knew that the eagle was flying at the top of its range, which I assumed was very high.
I wondered how high I was, and if maybe I was too high. i looked down to the earth below me. The town below was just a spot on a wide expanse of coppery-brown and tan desert land. I could see the curvature of the earth, tilted somewhat. I could see the sky fading to a violet black, as if I were about to leave the earth's atmosphere.
I suddenly felt giddy. I thought, For sure, I'm too high. I now descended rapidly back toward the city. I quickly saw a grid of (red-plastic-roofed?) houses, and I knew I would land on the street between those houses. I felt, however, like I was descending too quickly, and that my impact with the ground would kill me.
(3/2/10) einstein gives me a lesson
(Entered in paper journal at 6:15 AM on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood before a folding table (?) outdoors, possibly under the shade of a tree, with a girl who was taller than I and possibly my age or a little bit younger. We were working on some kind of science project. There might have been papers and books strewn across the table.
The girl either had a screw (or bolt) or held a paper showing a diagram of the bolt. She asked me what the threads were called. There was something about the distance between the thread-windings that was not exactly right for our experiment (possibly because of the way they would conduct electricity). But the woman couldn't remember what "threads" were called.
I "went" to inquire -- by turning around and walking, through the driver's side window, into a car. Albert Einstein sat in the front passenger seat. He may have been studying something or scribbling something, as if he sat at a desk. I stuttered, "Uh... uh... Professor?" I wasn't sure whether it was correct to call him "Professor."
Einstein, not looking away from his papers, said, "Yes?"
I asked, "What do you call the winding protrusions on a screw?"
Einstein and I were both now out of the car, walking toward the woman, who stood before the table. Einstein said, "Zose are called ze Crotons."
I now looked at a yellowed piece of parchment on the table. The parchment showed a draftsman-quality drawing of an upturned bolt with the word "CROTON" printed above it.
Albert Einstein now warned me and the girl about our work together getting out of hand. He said he'd really wanted each of us to partner with someone else for this project. But as the girl and I agreed and then started walking away, Einstein muttered something to himself about how happy he was, and how auspicious it was, that the girl and I had started working together.
The girl and I were now inside, in a place like a Barnes & Noble bookstore. The girl had walked off, talking on her cell phone. I felt like it was time to start working again, so I went to find the girl. She was a few display-shelves away. (There were no aisles, per se, but rather display bookshelves all set at odd angles to each other, creating a nice sense of space.) As I approached her, I heard her talking about her personal affairs. So I decided to walk away and let her have her private space.
I found a couple shelves with modern-looking picture books on them. One book may have had a pink cover with a silkscreen black-paint print of a woman's face on it. Another book may have had a mirrory-silver cover with blocky, black capital letters printed on it. I thought I might look at one of those books.
But now the woman, possibly still speaking on her phone, walked toward me to "pick me up" so we could go back to work. She may have said something about doing so to the person she was on the phone with. We may have walked over the back of a couch, which may have served as the barrier between the bookstore and our work area.
Dream #1
I stood before a folding table (?) outdoors, possibly under the shade of a tree, with a girl who was taller than I and possibly my age or a little bit younger. We were working on some kind of science project. There might have been papers and books strewn across the table.
The girl either had a screw (or bolt) or held a paper showing a diagram of the bolt. She asked me what the threads were called. There was something about the distance between the thread-windings that was not exactly right for our experiment (possibly because of the way they would conduct electricity). But the woman couldn't remember what "threads" were called.
I "went" to inquire -- by turning around and walking, through the driver's side window, into a car. Albert Einstein sat in the front passenger seat. He may have been studying something or scribbling something, as if he sat at a desk. I stuttered, "Uh... uh... Professor?" I wasn't sure whether it was correct to call him "Professor."
Einstein, not looking away from his papers, said, "Yes?"
I asked, "What do you call the winding protrusions on a screw?"
Einstein and I were both now out of the car, walking toward the woman, who stood before the table. Einstein said, "Zose are called ze Crotons."
I now looked at a yellowed piece of parchment on the table. The parchment showed a draftsman-quality drawing of an upturned bolt with the word "CROTON" printed above it.
Albert Einstein now warned me and the girl about our work together getting out of hand. He said he'd really wanted each of us to partner with someone else for this project. But as the girl and I agreed and then started walking away, Einstein muttered something to himself about how happy he was, and how auspicious it was, that the girl and I had started working together.
The girl and I were now inside, in a place like a Barnes & Noble bookstore. The girl had walked off, talking on her cell phone. I felt like it was time to start working again, so I went to find the girl. She was a few display-shelves away. (There were no aisles, per se, but rather display bookshelves all set at odd angles to each other, creating a nice sense of space.) As I approached her, I heard her talking about her personal affairs. So I decided to walk away and let her have her private space.
I found a couple shelves with modern-looking picture books on them. One book may have had a pink cover with a silkscreen black-paint print of a woman's face on it. Another book may have had a mirrory-silver cover with blocky, black capital letters printed on it. I thought I might look at one of those books.
But now the woman, possibly still speaking on her phone, walked toward me to "pick me up" so we could go back to work. She may have said something about doing so to the person she was on the phone with. We may have walked over the back of a couch, which may have served as the barrier between the bookstore and our work area.
(3/4/10) shave your face!
(Entered in paper journal 6:15 AM, on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I sat in an office room. The room was small, unlit, with a little daylight coming through a window, from which I was separated by a tall, bookshelf-like partition between desks. There may have been four desks in the room, in pairs, the pairs partitioned by these tall, desktop "bookshelves." The space was cluttered with papers, and it all had an old feeling to it, like the old back office at a National Park.
I sat angled (in a swivel chair?) so that I could see the door. Through the door and across a fluorescent-lit hallway was a smaller room. In that room, my boss CR (?) stood talking with an old boss of mine, PG. I was surprised and happy to see PG here, and I hoped she would come talk to me.
She finished talking with CR and came over to talk with me. She looked a little different: her hair was paler than its usual dark red-brown. And somehow she looked larger than before. She sat down and spoke with me for a moment. I was so happy to be able to show her I'd gotten this far along in my career. PG stood up and walked past my desk, toward the windows.
A man now walked into the room. He was tallish, wide-framed, fattish, with a wide, bald head tufted with a grey and white cloud bank of hair on the sides. He either sat down or stayed standing and addressed me. He handed me a big pocketknife. The knife was maybe six inches long. The handle/case was some kind of wood-colored plastic or stone material, capped at the ends with metal.
I pulled out one of the blades in the case. It was an old-fashioned shaving razor. The man told me, "Now use it! Shave yourself! Shave your face!" He told me to do so as if that was what the next phase of my career depended on.
Dream #1
I sat in an office room. The room was small, unlit, with a little daylight coming through a window, from which I was separated by a tall, bookshelf-like partition between desks. There may have been four desks in the room, in pairs, the pairs partitioned by these tall, desktop "bookshelves." The space was cluttered with papers, and it all had an old feeling to it, like the old back office at a National Park.
I sat angled (in a swivel chair?) so that I could see the door. Through the door and across a fluorescent-lit hallway was a smaller room. In that room, my boss CR (?) stood talking with an old boss of mine, PG. I was surprised and happy to see PG here, and I hoped she would come talk to me.
She finished talking with CR and came over to talk with me. She looked a little different: her hair was paler than its usual dark red-brown. And somehow she looked larger than before. She sat down and spoke with me for a moment. I was so happy to be able to show her I'd gotten this far along in my career. PG stood up and walked past my desk, toward the windows.
A man now walked into the room. He was tallish, wide-framed, fattish, with a wide, bald head tufted with a grey and white cloud bank of hair on the sides. He either sat down or stayed standing and addressed me. He handed me a big pocketknife. The knife was maybe six inches long. The handle/case was some kind of wood-colored plastic or stone material, capped at the ends with metal.
I pulled out one of the blades in the case. It was an old-fashioned shaving razor. The man told me, "Now use it! Shave yourself! Shave your face!" He told me to do so as if that was what the next phase of my career depended on.
(3/6/10) girlfriend going back to home country?
(Entered in paper journal at 8:15 AM, at the Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a bedroom with my girlfriend H. The room was cluttered, with a tall bookshelf and a large dresser, probably with a television on top. The rest of the room was strewn and strewn with blankets. To my left was a door. I could see out to the rest of the house, which was dim and blue.
I was getting intimate with H, undressing her. We were being very gentle. I started kissing H. Her shirt was off, possibly also her pants. Her skin was so smooth. I kissed her breasts and noted their smallness. I lifted my head to kiss H's mouth. But H's mouth smelled unpleasant, and I got turned off. I kissed her cheek and neck.
We were laying down. H was being very nice. But, looking in her face, I could tell that she was sad. She may have said something about having to leave America and go back to her native Japan. I felt guilty, seeing how she was hiding her sadness to look happy for me.
Dream #1
I was in a bedroom with my girlfriend H. The room was cluttered, with a tall bookshelf and a large dresser, probably with a television on top. The rest of the room was strewn and strewn with blankets. To my left was a door. I could see out to the rest of the house, which was dim and blue.
I was getting intimate with H, undressing her. We were being very gentle. I started kissing H. Her shirt was off, possibly also her pants. Her skin was so smooth. I kissed her breasts and noted their smallness. I lifted my head to kiss H's mouth. But H's mouth smelled unpleasant, and I got turned off. I kissed her cheek and neck.
We were laying down. H was being very nice. But, looking in her face, I could tell that she was sad. She may have said something about having to leave America and go back to her native Japan. I felt guilty, seeing how she was hiding her sadness to look happy for me.
(3/9/10) boss is a glass dyer; i don't want to love a man
(Entered 3/9/10, 6:15 AM, on the B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in an office with my old boss BS. The office was kind of spacious and it had a wide window wall, possily looking out over a city from a high floor. The office was moderately, not overly, cluttered.
BS told me he had to make some extra money to supplement his work pay now that times were tough. He handed me a stack of business cards. The cards were all about half the height of normal business cards, so that they looked more like strips than cards. Each card was a different kind of crafty or odd-jobby kind of profession. The top card, however, struck me most. It said, "GLASS DYER." I was astounded that BS knew how to dye glass!
BS was now walking out of his office. He said, "Well, anyway, it helps me make money, and it's something I like to do." I called after BS, telling him I thought it was incredible he knew how to dye glass. I wanted to know more about it. I felt like he had somehow thought I was being condescending about the whole thing, which I wasn't.
Dream #2
I lay on a stone walkway in the garden of some Mediterranean-style villa. I lay right by a gate which jutted out from the wall of the house. The gate had a grey, stone column. The column seemed to divide the area on the other side of the gate into two walkways.
I thought to myself something about how I wished I could find love. And now, at the end of the left walkway, a tallish, lean, muscular man with tanned skin and black hair came turning around a curve from the right. He wore only knee-length shorts. He was wet, as if he had been out swimming.
I thought that since I had seen the man so soon after having thought how I needed love, that the man was the one I was supposed to be with. I was upset. I thought, I'm not gay; I don't want to be with a man. Then I thought, Besides, this guy's a real jerk, too.
Now a whole group of people came walking up the right hallway. The man had crossed before me and headed into a doorway into the house, to my right. Now the other people were doing the same thing. They had all come from swimming. Apparently I was one of their group. But I hadn't gone swimming: I hadn't felt up to it.
Now, looking at all the people, I thought, Maybe I could be with one of the girls in this group. But, I (possibly) thought, I couldn't really feel attraction to any of them.
Dream #1
I was in an office with my old boss BS. The office was kind of spacious and it had a wide window wall, possily looking out over a city from a high floor. The office was moderately, not overly, cluttered.
BS told me he had to make some extra money to supplement his work pay now that times were tough. He handed me a stack of business cards. The cards were all about half the height of normal business cards, so that they looked more like strips than cards. Each card was a different kind of crafty or odd-jobby kind of profession. The top card, however, struck me most. It said, "GLASS DYER." I was astounded that BS knew how to dye glass!
BS was now walking out of his office. He said, "Well, anyway, it helps me make money, and it's something I like to do." I called after BS, telling him I thought it was incredible he knew how to dye glass. I wanted to know more about it. I felt like he had somehow thought I was being condescending about the whole thing, which I wasn't.
Dream #2
I lay on a stone walkway in the garden of some Mediterranean-style villa. I lay right by a gate which jutted out from the wall of the house. The gate had a grey, stone column. The column seemed to divide the area on the other side of the gate into two walkways.
I thought to myself something about how I wished I could find love. And now, at the end of the left walkway, a tallish, lean, muscular man with tanned skin and black hair came turning around a curve from the right. He wore only knee-length shorts. He was wet, as if he had been out swimming.
I thought that since I had seen the man so soon after having thought how I needed love, that the man was the one I was supposed to be with. I was upset. I thought, I'm not gay; I don't want to be with a man. Then I thought, Besides, this guy's a real jerk, too.
Now a whole group of people came walking up the right hallway. The man had crossed before me and headed into a doorway into the house, to my right. Now the other people were doing the same thing. They had all come from swimming. Apparently I was one of their group. But I hadn't gone swimming: I hadn't felt up to it.
Now, looking at all the people, I thought, Maybe I could be with one of the girls in this group. But, I (possibly) thought, I couldn't really feel attraction to any of them.
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