(2/19/05) stopping my backwards fall

(Entered in paper journal at 11 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

Afternoon. Slightly snowy. I was on a street corner, in front of an iron-post fence that was about four feet tall. The fence was just a small distance away from a black-painted building-side.

I had (possibly) been on a sidewalk overlooking a street that went down a gentle slope like the main street of a mountain town turned chic and artsy. Now I leaned backwards as if standing on a small, concrete ledge-beam and slipping backward.

I had fallen almost completely down. I stopped myself and levitated myself back up toward the fence. But I only got about three-quarters of the way back to the fence.

I kind of froze. I wondered how I had been able to levitate myself in the first place. Now I convinced myself that I shouldn't be able to do anything like that at all. But I didn't quite admit it because I didn't want to fall down onto the sidewalk.

(10/7/05) crisscross

(Entered in paper journal at the Tea Lounge on Union Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was walking behind my mother on a concrete path along a lawn lined with some small shrubs and flowers. Eventually my mother was far ahead of me, and I was behind an old, short, Asian woman. I wanted to catch up with my mom, or at least move faster than the Asian woman. But I wanted to wait until the woman wouldn't feel like I was being rude by passing her.

The path, though still as open-feeling and suburban-feeling as before, was crisscrossed now with shin-high shrubs on the walk and overhanging, leafy shrubs encroaching over the walk. I couldn't touch any shrubs. I had to jump over the crisscrosses and touch only the concrete, but I could only land on one foot and jump off and land on the next foot.

As I got better at this the overhanging shrubs faded to the sides. The Asian woman was far ahead. The crisscrosses got thicker, so that I had to float to get to each open patch of concrete. One series of shrubs I jumped through was like a mix of barberry leafs with pink sedum blossoms that were soft like pink Apache plume blossoms.

The Asian woman waited where the path became clear again. I landed near her. My mother said, as if behind us, "It's a good thing the old man wasn't here. You wouldn't have gotten away with some of your jumps."

We were all getting ready to meet a new girl. I was pleased with my abilities and in the meantime I levitated myself about six feet in the air, face down. I was surprised with how well I could control myself, how still and relaxed I was.

But the Asian woman and my mom laughed at me. My mom said, "Preemie, aren't you forgetting?"

Still floating, I spun around and saw the young woman beside my mom. The woman had long, blonde hair -- all I remember.

I said, "Oh, right, I forget."

I offered the woman my hand, but I had floated higher and was out of reach. Everybody laughed. I tried to lower myself, and then I kept aiming badly at the woman's hand.I tried to land altogether, but I was now really uneven.

(12/23/05) floating to the blank canvas

(Entered in paper journal at 9:45 PM at Hotel 6 at 6th Avenue and Wadsworth Boulevard in Lakewood, Colorado.)

Dream 1

Someone called me or said something concerning me from outside a shop I stood in. I ran out looking for the person, maybe a young man. I got down a few storefronts along a trendy shop-road, then turned to go back to where I came from.

I floated up a little into the air, then made some karate-style stance preparation move with my arms, like making chopping a chopping gesture with my hand and holding one arm so the hand was close to my hip and the other outstretched, with that hand facing palm-up. I may have done this because I'd seen an Asian man and had wanted to impress him with my levitation skills.

I moved myself through the air. I was inside a tall, dim, fancy room. I levitated up to a wall overhanging the room.

On the wall was a wide, tall canvas that was blank. I floated to the bottom edge of the canvas and fidgeted a little with it. I was either trying to come up with something to paint on it or I was trying to make the painting that was supposed to have been on the canvas appear there.

(10/28/06) start wire head injury; my articulate, angry nephew

(Entered in paper journal at 9:30 AM at Ozzie's coffee shop in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was somewhere like a library. There were a bunch of mean kids around. I didn't want to mess with me with them. The library was wide and spacious. I levitated about as high as I would be off the ground if I were riding a skateboard. Somehow that made the kids notice me less. But some who did made me even more of a target, or were about to.

The library became a wide open plaza, pink cobblestone, with some shops and then a broad, wide walk out to the ocean (or a big river?). I levitated a little higher and lined myself up with the walkway. I landed.

I planned to lift up somewhat high and speed myself all the way down the walkway. For some reason I had only been able to levitate to certain heights, proportional to how much space I had around and before me. But I knew if I wanted to stop being a target for these kids, I had to levitate high and move fast. Plus -- it was just a simple pleasure to feel the height and speed.

But somehow when I blasted myself upward, I hit some wire which I called a "start wire." It was clear and plasticky, possibly somehow glassy. Standing on this wire, I had to put on my clothes.

But I must have been pulling to levitate, too, because the wire was shaking up and down uncontrollably. When I tried to put my pants on, the wire acted so wild that I was tossed around in all directions. I couldn't see or get my bearings. Everything was a jumble.

I knew that either the wire would break or I wouldn't be able to hold onto it sooner or later, and that I would either be thrown in the air or at the ground. Either way, 'd hit the ground. I just hoped I'd get thrown into the air so I might control my spin somewhat and break my fall a little. But that didn't happen. The cord snapped, and I rocketed straight to the ground head-first.

I came to at night. I was by a shop. Some friends (?) were tending to my head wound. My head, the back right portion, I believe, was completely smashed open. My friends had dressed my wound, but my brain was damaged.

There was another person in front of the shop. (The front of the shop was curved inward, as if it faced a circle.)

The other man was on the left side of the curve. I was on the right. The friends divided to tend to each of us, and some would go back and forth between us.

There was some plan to replace brain in each of us using portions of brain from the other. But I didn't want this to happen -- I didn't want to have any of that guy's brain in my head -- I wanted my own kind of intelligence.

Besides, that man seemed to have a horrible head injury, and the same treatment being applied to both of us implied that I also had that kind of injury. I took that to mean that I had been made stupid. I hoped this wasn't true. And so I hoped that it would be discovered my head injury wasn't that bad after all.

Dream 2

A department store like Kmart. I was behind my mom and my second oldest nephew J as they walked don the "aisle," but I wasn't really there. J was speaking surprisingly articulately, but he only spoke one or two words. I could feel the words in my ears.

J was so angry. He was almost to the point of violence. My mom (who may have become my great grandmother A) had to pull him into one of the clothing rack areas. I watched from the "aisle." J had a huge newspaper (the New York Times?) in his arms. The paper almost as big as he. He was tearing the paper apart violently, although my mom's/grandma's move to the move to the rack area had calmed him down enough to stop him from shouting the one or two words.

Finally J chaneled his anger and spoke almost preternaturally articulately. He pointed to another section of the store, a display shelf of jeans (?), to a fat woman. He made it clear that if this woman kept coming at him he would not control his anger -- he would attack!