(Entered in paper journal at 5:45 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was on a space shuttle which had just launched. But my point of view was from outside the shuttle. I could hear myself talking with a woman who was also in the shuttle. We were talking about how the propulsion tanks appear to drop off the shuttle so quickly when you're watching launches on TV, but how they seem a lot slower when you're actually on the shuttle.
I watched the propulsion tanks drop off the shuttle a couple times, from a couple different angles. Each time they seemed to drop off quickly and, in my opinion, too early. The shuttle itself seemed like a huge propulsion tank coated in big squares of beige tiling.
Now it was like I was coming back down, in the shuttle or in my body (?), over a city. As I descended I thought how I would, according to my memory of this event, land on a building-top in the city. I thought, This time I'll fight for the rights (of astronauts? of workers on the moon?).
Now I was back up in the air, headed down into the sea, which had a dirty, brownish color. The people at ground control who had been directing my flight learned that I was going to fight for people rights. So they misdirected me so I couldn't land in the city and begin fighting directly. I think the people even hoped I would drown.
I dove head-first into the water, did a roll at a considerable depth, and surfaced. I was now person like David Bowie, or like an alien character that David Bowie might play. I would have to head back toward the city. I stood onto a large square of well-manicured lawn.
Dream #2
I was possibly in a big vehicle (like an RV?) at night with a group of black women. The women all spoke about how they had to lose weight so they could fit into some really small miniskirts. I may have been a woman as well. I sat behind a woman, my legs cradled around her legs, my arms around her waist.
Dream #3
I stood before a thin, plywood wall like scaffolding in an open field or a vacant lot. On the wall were old movie posters. I looked at one in particular. It was supposed to be for a Fellini-esque movie. Depicted on the poster were Frank Sinatra, Charlie Chaplin, and a character/characters who looked like Saraghina from the film 8 1/2.
I tried to remember some of the movie's scenes, which I could feel were very surreal. I heard someone in a group of people behind me say, "Oh, no, not that movie again! It's not even very good!" I may now have felt ashamed for having recognized the movie.
I had wandered down to my left, to a wall of scaffolding behind the first wall. I stopped there to look at a more colorful movie poster that I can't remember. Looking to my right I saw a lot of these "scaffolding walls," like a maze or a small city-street, all with movie posters on them.
I wondered why I should be ashamed to remember the movie from first movie poster I saw. I went back to the poster. I was now carrying "my oldest nephew" on my shoulders. We tried to quote some lines from the movie.
Now we were inside a nice grocery store, like a small version of a Wild Oats store I used to visit in Santa Fe, New Mexico. My nephew was saying weird things. A (tall?) thin man with pale skin and red hair stood into my nephew's face and told him not to act in such a weird way.
I told my nephew, "That man didn't say that to be mean. He's really thinking of your own good."
My nephew agreed happily, as if complying with the man's statement, but continued saying weird things.
Showing posts with label frank sinatra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frank sinatra. Show all posts
Friday, January 25, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
(7/4/08) frank sinatra duet; the grey finger; a beautiful tree
(Entered in paper journal at 8:51 AM at Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a dim cafe or bar. The area was moderately full with people sitting in folding chairs. The people were gathered around a duet that was playing saxophones. One man was black. The other man may have been Frank Sinatra. I seemed to be sitting amid a group of old women.
At some point I got up and walked outside the bar. Then I came back in. The audience seemed less full now. I stood in front of the Frank Sinatra man. The man's saxophone looked like a brass instrument combined with an electric keyboard.
The Frank Sinatra man stopped playing at some point and said something like, "We monitor people very closely. We need to see how serious they are about things before we just start teaching them."
I was outside, on a hill in a desert area during the daytime. I was with a group of people. We were walking down a wide, stone stairway (maybe granite?). I was near the front of the group, my old friend R and I slowly bringing some large, wheeled items like strollers down the steps.
At some point, a woman behind me commented how well I brought the items down the steps. I said something like, "I learned my technique from R."
But now the steps were becoming increasingly shallower (i.e. for foot length, but still staying wide breadth-wise) and increasingly taller. I had to slow down just to get my balance so I could let the thing down to the next step. I started feeling vertigo. I looked ahead. R was ahead of me by a few steps. He didn't seem to be having any problems. I was worried what all the people behind me would think.
But now I was losing balance that the thing and I were floating in the air in front of a step. I had a feeling I would fall hard if I didn't soon find solid ground at my height.
I floated to my right and grabbed onto the branch of a barren tree. It might actually have been the trunk of a limbless tree hunched over the edge of the stairway. I climbed to my right, over to the hillside beside the stairway.
As I did this, someone, possibly my mom, was talking to me about how sick Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was, and how sad it would be when she died. I thought I should tell the person that Jackie O was already dead. But now I couldn't remember whether that were actually true.
I dropped a few inches to the ground and stood on dry soil, maybe cinders, with dry, tan clumps of grass and colorful flowers around me. There were a few people on the staircase around my level.
I might have climbed back onto the staircase. But now I was climbing out from a shady area that had been carved into the staircase. I climbed out from behind a tombstone that stood before the space and continued walking down the steps.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with a woman who sat to my left. The movie theater was full and the movie had begun. The woman was visibly annoyed and finally told me why. I looked at her. A big, grey hand kept poking the back of the woman's neck (the woman's neck being bandaged all the way around, in a thin strip, like in the stories of the woman with secretly severed and barely reattached heads).
I was very afraid. By the looks of the hand, the man annoying the woman must have been huge. But I grabbed the finger and held it still. I told the man to stop poking the woman.
I looked behind the woman. It was now like dim light was on in the theater. The man was now copper-skinned, a little worn-out looking, middle-aged, and fattish. He wore sunglasses. He was less threatening-looking than the dark-grey monster he had seemed to be before. But I was now somehow afraid to approach him at all.
Dream #3
I was walking or in a vehicle on a sunny day. I passed by a beautiful tree. The tree was bare but budding. The branches were a deep, smooth crimson. The buds were profuse. They were big and fuzzy, like magnolia buds. But they were a pale, rich beige. The tree glowed against the deep blue sky.
Dream #1
I was in a dim cafe or bar. The area was moderately full with people sitting in folding chairs. The people were gathered around a duet that was playing saxophones. One man was black. The other man may have been Frank Sinatra. I seemed to be sitting amid a group of old women.
At some point I got up and walked outside the bar. Then I came back in. The audience seemed less full now. I stood in front of the Frank Sinatra man. The man's saxophone looked like a brass instrument combined with an electric keyboard.
The Frank Sinatra man stopped playing at some point and said something like, "We monitor people very closely. We need to see how serious they are about things before we just start teaching them."
I was outside, on a hill in a desert area during the daytime. I was with a group of people. We were walking down a wide, stone stairway (maybe granite?). I was near the front of the group, my old friend R and I slowly bringing some large, wheeled items like strollers down the steps.
At some point, a woman behind me commented how well I brought the items down the steps. I said something like, "I learned my technique from R."
But now the steps were becoming increasingly shallower (i.e. for foot length, but still staying wide breadth-wise) and increasingly taller. I had to slow down just to get my balance so I could let the thing down to the next step. I started feeling vertigo. I looked ahead. R was ahead of me by a few steps. He didn't seem to be having any problems. I was worried what all the people behind me would think.
But now I was losing balance that the thing and I were floating in the air in front of a step. I had a feeling I would fall hard if I didn't soon find solid ground at my height.
I floated to my right and grabbed onto the branch of a barren tree. It might actually have been the trunk of a limbless tree hunched over the edge of the stairway. I climbed to my right, over to the hillside beside the stairway.
As I did this, someone, possibly my mom, was talking to me about how sick Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was, and how sad it would be when she died. I thought I should tell the person that Jackie O was already dead. But now I couldn't remember whether that were actually true.
I dropped a few inches to the ground and stood on dry soil, maybe cinders, with dry, tan clumps of grass and colorful flowers around me. There were a few people on the staircase around my level.
I might have climbed back onto the staircase. But now I was climbing out from a shady area that had been carved into the staircase. I climbed out from behind a tombstone that stood before the space and continued walking down the steps.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with a woman who sat to my left. The movie theater was full and the movie had begun. The woman was visibly annoyed and finally told me why. I looked at her. A big, grey hand kept poking the back of the woman's neck (the woman's neck being bandaged all the way around, in a thin strip, like in the stories of the woman with secretly severed and barely reattached heads).
I was very afraid. By the looks of the hand, the man annoying the woman must have been huge. But I grabbed the finger and held it still. I told the man to stop poking the woman.
I looked behind the woman. It was now like dim light was on in the theater. The man was now copper-skinned, a little worn-out looking, middle-aged, and fattish. He wore sunglasses. He was less threatening-looking than the dark-grey monster he had seemed to be before. But I was now somehow afraid to approach him at all.
Dream #3
I was walking or in a vehicle on a sunny day. I passed by a beautiful tree. The tree was bare but budding. The branches were a deep, smooth crimson. The buds were profuse. They were big and fuzzy, like magnolia buds. But they were a pale, rich beige. The tree glowed against the deep blue sky.
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