• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. au revoir boss; carrying steel models; guy in movie theatre

      by , 05-29-2011 at 01:59 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in an office with my boss and the head of our department, J. J made a comment about the conditions of our company. He then said, "Well, your boss will tell you more about that." J then walked out of the office, through a doorway that may possibly have been to a stairwell.

      Only my boss and I were now left on the office floor. The space was kind of narrow. There was some kind of long counter or reception desk running along the area where my boss and I stood.

      My boss stood a few feet away from me. He looked a little different than IWL. His hair was cut short, and he was wearing really nice eyeglasses with no frames on the bottom of the lenses and nice, thin, black frames across the top. He was also wearing a pale, lemon-yellow shirt that looked very clean and pressed.

      My boss said, "Well, I guess I should tell you it's going to happen to me next. But don't say I told you."

      I understood this to mean that my boss was going to leave the company. But he'd said it so quietly and mumbled, and he'd told me not to talk about it. So I acted like it wasn't a big deal, like I almost hadn't heard him in the first place. I actually may also have hoped he'd say whatever he'd said again, since he'd mumbled and been so quiet that I wasn't quite sure I heard him correctly.

      My boss was annoyed by my reaction, as if he thought what he'd said hadn't sunk into my skull at all. So, as I walked closer to him, he took out a plastic pen, kind of fatter than normal, and poked me at the top right side of my chest, and said, "Au revoir."

      It was now clear that my boss was leaving the company. My boss had given me a parting gift. It was a huge book by Marguerite Duras. I don't remember the title. It was a fat paperback. It had a yellow cover, possibly with some kind of painting inside a circle on the center on the front.

      My boss and I stood at the far end of the counter now. Just beyond us was an unlit area that looked like a living room, or even like two decent-sized living rooms separated from each other by some kind of partitions. The rooms were visible only by the fluorescent light of the office area and the deep blue morning or evening light coming in through the wall-sized windows.

      The counter looked now more like an alcohol bar made out of office materials. My boss wandered around to the other side of the bar. As he did I told him, "Well, I'm really thankful to you. You took a chance on me when nobody else would..."

      But my boss waved me off, as if to say, "Don't start with all that modesty stuff again." He came back around the bar and handed me another book. It was also by Marguerite Duras. It was much thinner than the first book. It had the same kind of yellow color. This book was titled Abe Diem----- or Abe Dies----- (can't remember the rest of the word). I figued the title was German.

      Dream #2

      I was walking on some concrete path with two other people. One was probably my sister. The other was a kind of fat man maybe my age or younger, maybe in his mid 20s.

      It was a bright, sunny day. The path we walked on was like a sidewalk, and it was in a suburban neighborhood. But it was actually crossing some area between two grassy fields on either side of which were blocks of houses. The area we were walking through at first was narrow, as if there were some kind of construction trailer to our right.

      At least my sister and I were carrying something. We both carried the objects slung over our shoulders. My sister carried one bag of something and a huge, black-metal frame almost like a bed frame. The frame had a bunch of figures molded into the empty space. The figures looked like toys, like army figures, or little toy-wrestling figures. The thing looked extremely awkward and heavy to carry. I may actually have felt this from my sister's point of view.

      I was carrying a plastic bag with a huge pack of Huggies diapers in it. It wasn't very heavy at all.

      I felt kind of guilty for carrying something so light and easy while my sister carried such a big, heavy frame. At some point either I or the other man suggested that we stop a moment, ostensibly to give my sister a break. The man stopped. I slowed down, unsure as to what our plan was. My sister kept going. She said she didn't need a break. And before long, she was altogether gone.

      We were finally now just past the trailer or series of trailers that had made the place seem so narrow. We were in a grassy field, like a litte park. The guy had stopped right past the far end of the trailers. I'm pretty sure he hadn't been holding anything before. But now he set down a white, cloth bag and a black frame like the one my sister had.

      I set down my bag with the huge pack of Huggies diapers. I was also carrying a small, black bag which had something square in it. I set the black bag on top of the Huggies bag, hoping that I could conceal the fact from the man that I was carrying all these diapers around with me.

      The man now explained the black frame to me. He said you painted one side of the figures and then pressed them against a canvas. In this way you created some kind of big painting of all these figures.

      There was also another frame, which may have been of copper or bronze. Not everybody had this second frame. But it produced a second layer on the paintings, which gave the figures "moveable arms." The arms really weren't moveable on the painting. But I guess what was meant was that the torso, legs, and head of the figures were one color, while the arms were another color.

      In my mind's eye I saw a brownish-copper color canvas or paper dotted with gnarly, little paint-figures. The legs, torsos, and heads of the figures were black, while the arms were either white or a very pale, bright shade of purple.

      Dream #3

      I was in a movie theatre with a few other people. The movie theatre was huge, but there were only a few of us, all scattered through the first three or four rows of the theatre. Two people I was aware of were an older man with big, clear glasses and pale, blue eyes, and a young, pretty, blonde woman.

      We were all here as part of some audition. Or we may actually already have been performing. But as part of this audition or performance we had to watch whatever movie was playing.

      I may have been second row. Something felt very weird just to my left, as if the seats were gone, or as if something or someone was crowding me almost to the point of pushing against me.

      The old man was in the row behind me. He tapped my left shoulder. He said to me, "See over there, in the front row? That boy? Even though he's a star, he wanted to be part of this thing, too. Heh, heh! He called his agent up directly and asked to be given a space down here today!"

      I looked to the boy the man had pointed out. He seemed to look like Frankie Muniz from Malcolm in the Middle. But he wore a round-brimmed hat and big, thick eyeglasses. He sat in the front row, in one of the far left seats. He had seemed a little standoffish to me, though I'm not sure when he had seemed this way. But now he seemed shy, kind of fragile, and in need of a friend.

      I was now sitting at a table, apparently in some kind of restaurant. The table was for four. To my right was a window wall which revealed the pink-peach light of early sunrise or late sunset, possibly over a body of water, like a huge lake.

      The "star" sat caddy-corner from me at the table, eating something like cereal or oatmeal. I may have been eating or only drinking a cup of coffee. I suddenly recognized the "star." It was a man named Aki, a guy who DJ'd at a relief concert that had been held at the Japan Society.

      I was excited to see him again, as I'd lost contact with him. But I remembered how shy and fragile he'd seemed as the "star" kid in the theatre. So I didn't speak too enthusiastically to him, or even let on that I knew who he was.

      I asked him something about his life. He responded in a kind of quiet tone, like he was a little depressed. I thought I wouldn't press any more conversation, although it looked like he was probably getting ready to say a few more things on his own.