June, 2012

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6/3/12 - Title: "Of Primitive Pieces, Soft Patches, Blocked Ways, and Brilliant Focus"

Scene One - Near a forest, I have been making or finding a number of primitive clay or ceramic sculptures. They are simple pieces such as a child might make, bowls, plates, and simple animal-like forms.

Scene Two - I am going somewhere with a woman (whom I don't know in reality). We keep walking onto flat natural patches or surfaces that then become soft, so we might sink into them or fall through (as if there are caves or rooms beneath) and so must retrace our steps.

Scene Three - I am in a large warehouse or an industrial area. My vehicle (and I) keep being blocked by crates, boxes, or machinery that workers have put in the way, having different agendas that do not include or facilitate my progress. I get out repeatedly and move the obstacles out of the way to permit my going ahead or around by a route a little more to my left, yet others keep putting more stuff in the way, so the process must be done again. Finally, one of the other workers, a younger man, not as brawny or insensitive as the other workers, sees my dilemma and gets the others to stop blocking my way. He even helps me clear a new path or route (again off to the left) through the debris, so I can get on my way.

Scene Four - Frances and I are in a natural history museum. While I am curious about a large number of exhibits and so interested in touring the museum as a whole, she wants to concentrate in a very specialized way, and so we become separated. Later, each of three times, as we get closer to closing time for the museum, I find her amid very scientific groups of students or researchers, meticulously dissecting natural specimens or parts of bodies and making perfect drawings of them, complete with exact labels and descriptions.

The last time I come looking for her this way, she is no longer where I had found her before. I ask the man who seems to be in charge, the curator or mentor here. He does not know just where she is but comments on the brilliance of her work, remarkable since she lacks formal training in such activities. He says he has not seen any work better. Later I find her in a small alcove with just a few others, a smaller area and group, who are also doing highly specialized researches, dissections, and drawings, perhaps even more specialized than when I had found her twice before. We must leave very soon, though, as the museum is closing.

6/8/12 - Title: "Being Together or Being Apart"

Scene One - There is a party in someone's home, evidently a mainly stag party, in which a lot of people, all men except for one young woman, are seated facing toward a screen on which nude scenes of women start being shown. The woman in the audience thinks this inappropriate, gets up, and angrily leaves.

Scene Two - A young woman (different than in scene one) is lying on her back, nude above the waist and with a sultry or horny look, evidently interested in heavy petting or sex.

Scene Three - I am alone and approaching the front of a dark warehouse at night. I have some business here, but am anxious. It seems nobody else is around. I expect to go in through a door that is directly ahead. Although my intent does not seem clandestine, I fear meeting others here.

6/13/12 - Title: "Getting Through A Soft, Bad Patch Just Ahead"

I'm a passenger in a car driven by Frances. We are traveling on a windy (serpentine), narrow, one-lane road through an area that has received a lot of recent rain and/or flooding. At one point, we go through a tunnel or cave. Too late to avoid driving on it, we both suddenly notice with alarm that just ahead there is a patch in the road, at a curve toward the left (and, we're still in a long cave, but can see a big opening to the outside ahead), where recent high waters have damaged, undermined, and made soft the left side of the road. Fran slows down considerably and carefully takes the vehicle across this bad patch. There is no way to avoid it. I am quite worried, but we slowly and safely progress on past it, and things become much brighter as a large mouth to the cave then opens out into a sunny natural setting through which it appears we can drive on without difficulty.

[Of Frances, I'd say she is an excellent teacher and nature observer, a talented photographer and musician, competent, confident, happy, more a thinker than a feeler (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator), has a good sense of humor, and yet can on occasion be abrasive.]

6/14/12 - Title: "A Man's Best Friend"

(Most forgotten but...) Two scenes in which I am close to and enjoying big dogs, one per scene: sitting next to them, petting them, even embracing them around the neck/shoulders and appreciating that they are enjoying our friendship too. These dogs are impressive animals, large, smart, confident, independent, reliable, and loyal.

6/15/12 - Title: "Frozen Emotion"

Scene One - I'm alone on a narrow, two lane road in hills or mountains at night (or dawn, with little light at first but enough to see into the distance later). Thinking I am driving in familiar ways, I get lost and, instead of a town I know, wind up at a frozen lake near which there is also an immense glacier or a mountain of ice. Though this landscape is beautiful, it is not where I meant to be, and I decide to turn around and head back the other way, again thinking I'm probably going toward town.

Scene Two - (Various confused images, but...) Impressions of: walking on a frozen lake, of uncertainly if the ice is thick enough to support my weight; a clear patch, so I can see through the ice to the liquid water below; a baby being carried or being pulled on a sled, and worries about what will happen to the infant if the ice breaks.

Scene Three - Having stopped at a cafe along a narrow road in the hills or mountains, I meet others, men and women (maybe five or six) here too (here for breakfast before work?). We discuss the odd ice situation, how things are most (more) frozen than usual, and other oddities as well. We get on a bus. Suddenly, the bus starts moving automatically forward, accelerating, as though propelled by something about the odd environment. The bus crashes into a large bluff or cliff of ice near the town, and I decide to get off here, though the others think I should stay on the bus.

6/16/12 - Title: "Fertilizer Fun (or Cesspool Follies)"

I am wielding a shovel in a bare earth space, maybe 12 by 12 feet in a lawn, except with the grass gone, digging and turning over dirt or lifting it and moving it over a few feet to my right. I am one of a crew of men (maybe 4-5) working in this area. Another crewmember is working a few feet opposite me and a little to my left, facing my direction. When he next shoves his shovel in, there is little resistance, and it comes back smelly and looking brown and muddy. We all realize that he has found the septic system we are here to work on and empty. Too late, he sees that where he was standing is also not solid. "Oh SHIT!!!!!" he yells and quickly sinks almost out of sight, only the very top of his head still visible. Carefully, we pull him out, very stinky and covered in filth from head to toe. He is quite uncomfortable then, and we tease him, having a laugh. We wonder how best to get on with the job without further dunking.

6/17/12 - Title: "Virtual Verisimilitude"

Scene One - I am alone in an airport, unable to move out of one area to access the gate for boarding one of the planes. My way is blocked by odd (futuristic) devices, computer generated rectangular solid mechanical obstacles to my either leaving the way I had come or proceeding toward the nearby planes.

Scene Two - I am still alone and unable to leave where I am, now a long, high, large chamber at night, the only light quite dim and coming from long narrow translucent colored panels in the wall (and these panels parallel with the floor) instead of from ordinary lamps or windows. Although this chamber also keeps me in, I now am able to influence what the computer generating devices make. The creations seem so real I am not sure they are not.

When I realize I have some control over the productions, my immediate environment reshaping itself and responsive to my thoughts or wishes, I experiment and see immediate changes occurring as a result.

Continuing to experiment, I whisper, almost inaudibly, "sexy companion." Instantly, a nude young woman, quite beautiful in the low light, rushes up and presses herself to me in an intimate embrace. My fingers go to her vagina. She is wet, excited, and responsive. We begin to make love with intense passion. If this is not real, I think, it is at least a diverting illusion!

6/20/12 - Title: "Bon Voyage!"

Background of the dream setting or issue:

I am undecided about whether to go with my wife, Frances, on an ocean voyage, though she is eager to do so and committed. I feel it may be too much trouble, may cost too much, I may be too tired, and that, if I do go, the results may be very under-whelming. Because of such concerns, I think I might as well stay home, that to go anyway would be a waste of time, money, and energy, a needless yet significant disruption of my life. (There is a similar real life issue about which I had asked for dream guidance before going to sleep.)

Scene One - There has been a lot of drama about whether or not I shall go on the voyage with Fran, and I have changed both my mind and my preparations or other arrangements several times. Throughout this confusion and upsetting turmoil, Frances has steadfastly been sure she wants to go, even if it means going alone, though I feel she probably would rather I went too. Right up to the day of departure, and now with Fran ready with her boarding pass and then even on the ocean liner, I have been unable to make a firm decision.

Finally, I talk with her, and she says what I want to hear, that it is OK with her if I stay home if that's what I want to do. I let her know, then, that I won't go but that I'll be in touch by e-mail, and I want to here (hear) about how it goes for her. We part, just hours before ocean liner is to leave, with it finally "settled" that she will go alone, and I'll stay home and find out about it later from her. I leave, expecting to go home, but as I am doing so, I see Frances back in a deck space near the water (sea), her carry-on baggage with her. She is standing in a queue of other travelers, the rest together in pairs, while for Frances there is just an extra space next to her where I would have been if I had been going. She looks lonely and disappointed. I feel badly, that I have let her down.

Scene Two - I am in a big building (terminal?) next to the ocean liner that Fran has already boarded. I have not yet gone home. I have told her that if I am not back by 2:00, it means I am not coming (going) with her. On the way out, I hear several people talking excitedly about their upcoming voyage. I also see a number of male members of the crew, and they seem professional, competent.

There is a tall, large, attractive, intelligent woman who works for the ocean liner or its company. She seems personable, decisive, helpful, very aware, and to be in charge of the bookings and boarding arrangements, efficiently handling her duties. She knows of the dilemma I have had for some time about going or not going, but she offers no advice, leaving it up to me to resolve, maybe by default (waiting till too late). She is aware too that Fran has been steadfast in commitment to going despite my vacillation.

Suddenly, I imagine the ocean liner getting underway, Fran realizing she will make this journey alone, the water surging, welling up, as the propellers begin to turn faster. I know it would be tragic if she went off by herself. I know I want to be there with her, not abandon her. But I also know I have waited till very late. I do not yet have my boarding pass. It is already about 1:00. If I'm going, I'll still have to rush home, pack, return, and get my boarding pass.

I talk with the booking/boarding lady. She gives me a boarding pass. I tell her about all I must still do and that I'm afraid of not getting back in time. "Oh, no problem," she says, "You have your boarding pass now, and we don't leave till 10:00 tonight."

I leave happy, realizing I can surely make it back with my stuff by between 2:00 and 3:00, plenty of time, though there's not a way to let Fran know till I show up. Now we'll be together, and I am sure it is the right thing to do. I am now feeling the excitement others have talked about, plus, first, anticipation of the thrill of the liner powerfully surging forward through the water as we get underway.

[Of Frances, I'd say she is brilliant, a thinker more than a feeler, and happier than not, though she and I can on occasion have minor friction and negativity when tired and under stress.]

6/23/12 - Title: "Intruders"

I am home during the day and alone, I think, taking a nap. I get up, thinking I am still alone, and wander about the house to do this or that. During this time, though, I quickly become aware there are others here. Not only has Frances gotten home while I was resting in a side room, but she has also let my mom and someone else in. I'd not even known they were coming over. I hear them all chatting, and even catch a glimpse of them, and hurry back to my room, since I am only in my underwear and want to get fully dressed before they see me. Mom, however, is fast and single-minded and evidently convinced she is going to stay, as our guest, in the room where I had been. Just as I am trying to dress, and so have let go of the doorknob, she is on the other side of the door and beginning to pull it toward her. I belatedly try to pull it back but am encumbered by the clothes I'm holding and cannot do so before she sees me, partially dressed. "Oh!" she says and releases the doorknob she is holding. I close the door in her face and am feeling both embarrassed and a little irritated that she would not have checked if the room were occupied before trying so determinedly to get into it.

[Of Mom, I'd say she is smart, judgmental, extroverted, an alcoholic, often sees herself as a victim, worries too much what others think of her, likes to stay busy and occupied, and is also prone to being intrusive, not so respectful of others' boundaries.

Of Fran, she is very smart, is more into taking action than into "being," has a good sense of humor, is efficient, competent, and balanced, is more happy than not, though cynical and sarcastic when frustrated or irritated, and is extremely good at doing what she likes.]

6/24/12 - Title: "In Tribute to Horace, Self-Abnegation"

Scene One - I'm in some sort of tribute dinner party for my brother, Horace, a successful football player (not in reality), probably the quarterback of his winning team.

Scene Two - It is almost nighttime and I am gathered out on a dirt road with others, including Leila, paying tribute to Horace who is (I believe, though this part almost forgotten) about to leave on this road to go play a football game. Folks are leaving odd good luck articles in the road for Horace and his team. They are tall and narrow, most about 2-3 feet high.

Scene Three - I'm a novice guest, something to do with honoring Horace, at a religious gathering of some weird sect, all men. Everyone is expected to wear a cowl or a thick wool blanket over himself and to sit on low benches or on cushions like meditation pads on the floor, to be silent, and to bow with heads lower than the leader's when he is there. Novices like me are unfamiliar with all these practices as well as other rituals and verbal directions or chants by the leader and are in a friendly way led to do them correctly by those who are more experienced. I feel ill at ease, hungry, and out of place, but follow others' examples and guidance.

Scene Three - Because I was unfamiliar with the right procedures for novices, I failed to arrange beforehand for a delivery by Burger King of my meal at the door of the side room, and now I am hungry. I go into this side room hoping there is still some way to arrange for or find some Burger King food I can have, but instead find myself at a new gathering of the weird worshippers and feel forced to join in this new service, even though I had just finished sitting with the men in the earlier one. It is confusing and frustrating, but I feel I have to comply.

[Of Horace, I'd say he is a brother separated from me by about 14 years (younger), is very smart, a great father and grandpa, is really into seeing things in terms of us vs. them, is quite judgmental of others, loves touting how macho he is, is a far right conservative Christian and Republican, loves to threaten to use his concealed weapon (which is almost always on his person), is a reasonably good salesperson, active in his church, devoted to his wife, enjoys singing and acting in local productions, and deeply resents having been, in his view, mistreated badly by our dad and mom (for whom he has little respect) when growing up.

Of Leila, I'd say she is married to Horace, is at least as conservative and right wing as he is, also is very smart, loves to stir up dissension between others and to scapegoat, then gleefully egg on the controversy and drama that results, is quite intolerant of other's foibles, never admits any mistakes or shortcomings in herself, is quite dramatic, loves being in control and manipulating others, and is a reasonably good and devoted wife, mother, and grandmother.]

6/27/12 - Title: "Some of What Was 'Permanent' is Gone"

I have been for a dental appointment. I recall the male dentist having ground down some rough edges in my front teeth and then polishing them till smooth. Back at home, I am upset and anxious to note when I look in the mirror that my smile has been altered. Where there had been more teeth, there is now more a space between the teeth. It is a little subtle. I am sure it is different, but it is not as bad as if I now have a missing tooth in front. Rather, it is as though two or three of the front teeth have been cracked, ground, or polished down toward the gums to the extent that there is now a space in front between the upper and lower teeth, even with the jaws closed, though previously with the teeth together there had not been one visible. The extra space there is particularly evident if I smile. I am sad to realize I'll just have to adjust to this change, that there is no bringing the missing teeth parts back.

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