Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 7, 2014. Monday.



I am in Cubitis in my father’s original music room (southwest corner of the house). I am not sure of the time. It may be early afternoon.

An unknown girl is in the room and, in fact, it seems to be her room. (Of course, it is possible that a girl, or even a female artist, occupies this room now in real life - I have no way of knowing.)

There are various sets of A2 sheets of paper, mostly in several pads. There are also a couple unfinished cream canvases. She is some sort of well-known artist, it seems, but I do not know her name at any point.

The main scene involves me making art “for her” or to help her with the foundation of a pattern somehow, as she is somehow behind on her drawings or paintings (not sure what the situation is). I end up drawing various curving random parallel lines from the left to the right. That is mostly all that happens. I make at least two, the second being far more sparse, with only a few lines. There is no discernible form or shape.

A little later, I notice a thin dark-haired man in glasses kissing her. I ask her if she has three boyfriends and get a “no” from her. Somehow, I am also thinking of a male at a bus-stop somewhere who is “also” supposedly her boyfriend, but not in actuality somehow. It does not make much sense. It may very vaguely relate to a movie we saw last night, “Le battement d'ailes du papillon”, fairly interesting but a bit contrived (though an amusing look into cause and effect).

Parallel lines “never meet”. This may be a play on the two lines being the girl and I - and us “never meeting” in reality, even though I do not have a clear idea on who the girl might be or represent. However, looking at it in another way, it may mean that I remain (or should remain) in uniformity and balance with the females in my life (especially including my wife and daughters).