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Morning of August 22, 2015. Saturday.



Yet again, I am back in my childhood home in Cubitis. The setting, though, is more near the entrance into the kitchen, though still in the living room area. For whatever reason, there is a character present who seems to be a version of actor Anthony Hopkins, who starred in the first movie my wife Zsuzsanna and I ever saw together in a theater before we we married (“Shadowlands”, about C.S. Lewis). He remains mostly standing near the entrance to the hallway and talking to me about how good an artist I am and the aspects of what I am working on at the time. This does not trigger lucidity in any way.

I am seated at a table, making some sort of large drawing with just a few felt pens, yet still get the impression it is related to a painting - or maybe it will become a painting eventually. I make a statement a bit later of how I wish I had more of a variety of colors to work with.

The more the actor comments positively on my work, the more I seem to absentmindedly start adding random lines and what may eventually eliminate the original image. The image seems to be an ambiguous scene, seemingly as seen from a window, but with both winter (as there is seemingly sparse snow) and summer features. There is a bird (unknown species) near the upper middle of the image as well as trees and a sunrise or sunset. Its wings are out as if in flight, though I think it may also be on a branch at one point, as the image changes over time.

There is an unusual nature to my work at one point. I try to focus on it and even “explain” it to the actor (and my wife who is present) before I wake. The concept makes no sense at all, though. It is something like including an additional layer over the image as someone else has also painted or drawn the same scene (elsewhere) but slightly smaller, or something like me making the picture as if someone else were drawing it as a “reflection” into my drawing. (It is hard to explain, as it does not make much clearer sense in my dream, either, though I suppose it could also be related as my image being on an easel within the actual scene but the easel being transparent and showing the scene more realistically through the outline of my less-formed artistic version.)

Although my image was seemingly very well-done in the first part of my dream, I am adding lines (wider apart) over previous lines, removing the more defined nature of the image, supposedly superimposing the art of someone different over my own version. I am starting to think that Anthony will become annoyed with what I am doing (in “ruining” my original work), but he has not commented at this later point.

All in all, this may simply be yet another metaphor for the waking process; that is, my dream becoming less-defined as I am waking even though my dream-self is attempting to clarify or change the dream’s energies somehow. During my work in the mid-1980s, I found that many dreams can be seen in this manner, especially flying dreams, which represent the state of dreaming itself.

There was a huge circular aquarium with a giant monster fish in it, it looked kind of like a Coelacanth, but it had creepy Piranha eyes and mouth and was about the size of a school bus. On the wall next to the aquarium was a giant skeleton of the same fish. I desperately wanted to go examine the skeleton but I was so afraid of the live fish, he kept swimming at me and snapping, I thought he'd break through the glass. So instead I just admired the damn thing from afar. At one point, I joined up with a tourist group who were being led around the rest of the aquarium by a dude who looked like he didn't even want to be there. We went down some stairs, and I found myself in this amazing room underwater with a big window opened up to the bottom of the ocean. The water reflected off the floors and walls and the whole room was just bathed in this wild blue waving pattern. The guy said we were actually at the very bottom of the ocean and that we were a few miles underwater. Which kind of terrified me, since deep water has always creeped me out. Then I noticed that there was no window glass, the water was just suspended there, like maybe there was some kind of invisible force field holding it back. I took my hand and reached out into the water, and was shocked that it actually went in. But instead of crushing my hand, like I thought a few miles of deep water would do, it was super light. I moved my hand through it and it was like moving it through air, only I could see the water moving. It was a total trip. Later the guy wound up having some personal problem and herded all the tourist group into a room while he took care of whatever business he had. We all sat in there bored and impatient, and I felt very put-out by it.

For some reason, I was given moderator status over an art group because the founder didn't have the time to deal with it anymore. As soon as I was given the reins, this guy submits three pieces of "art" explaining why I suck as the new moderator. They were really insane reasons, too. The main ones were because I didn't add a Sonic category under the video game art, and because I never invited these two specific artists to join the group. I tried to be polite to him and told him that if he wanted a Sonic category, all he had to do was request it, and that I wasn't going to pester people about joining because membership was free to everyone anyway. He got all butthurt about it and started screaming at everyone.

I was hiding behind some boulders because I was naked. I have no idea why I was naked, what the heck. But I was super friggin hungry and saw a bunch of people eating pizza, but I couldn't join them because I had no clothes. On the ground was this teeny little shirt, but when I put it on, it didn't cover up anything so there in the rocks I stayed. This woman with long, sandy hair noticed me and invited me over to her hotel room to help me out. We ate pizza and she gave me a bed for the night, and I guess she gave me clothes because I suddenly had clothes again? The next day we wound up with cutesy little crushes on each other and she left for work and I went on my way. I tried calling her later but she was avoiding me. Apparently someone told her a lie about something horrible I did, and I just had to find her and clear my good name, so I went up to her work but she refused to come out and talk to me.

I was in a huge estate, looking out the window over a big lake. As I watched, I noticed a big black shadow under the water swimming away from the estate so I kept my eyes on it. A little ways in, it poked up its head and I saw it was a dolphin. There was a whole school of them. Then I remembered Cory's sister had a canoe so I decided to get it and go out there on the lake to check out the dolphins, and the canoe had a motor on it apparently. Me and someone else took the canoe out along the edge of the lake that was up against the estate to where the dolphins were, and as we headed out there, I felt like the canoe was slowly sinking but I wasn't too sure so I kept my mouth shut about it. It turned out it was sinking, and it started going under as soon as we got out to swim around with the dolphins, but then we realized the lake was super shallow, like shallow enough to stand in. So we left the lake, hauling the canoe to shore. Later on I walked out there by myself, still along the edge of the water by the estate, and I was really careful as I stepped because I was afraid the water would drop off into deeper spots. Then I saw a big railroad crossing stick and was afraid to go past that, but I didn't have to because the dolphins were right there, so I stood among them and it was just the coolest thing ever. There was only one big one, so I guess it was the mother, and a bunch of little ones, and I grabbed onto the fin of the mother and she swam me out further into the lake where I discovered a secret chamber. It was a bit weird to get in, you had to duck under some shallow water and then come up on the other side. But the chamber itself was creepy, it had mossy stairs and a few sarcophagi, but... it also had a mini-fridge, so I filled it with neat orange soda imported from Germany that said on the cans that it would get chilled in the fridge in under six minutes. Which I thought was bullshit, by the way. It said it in German, like 'Unter sechs minuten!' or something, whatever. My dog Loki figured out my new hiding spot pretty quickly and would come down there with me. But later I discovered there was a scary something down there in the depths of the chamber, but I can't remember what it was, just that it was terrifying. To keep the scary something away, you had to avoid specific areas of the chamber, and I forgot and at one point I was running out of the chamber in terror.

I was in a mall, looking at the stores along the corridor. There were restos, offices, and an art room. I went into the art room, looking for someone. It was supposed to be an office of a friend, but she wasn't there. The color theme seems to be light green. I also thought there's a hidden doorway there.

I took a jeep going... somewhere. I was following the lead of another person I don't know. He went down, and I went down, but I have no idea where we were. I started walking in a direction that I thought was correct. The place is reminiscent of the area near Dimasalang in Sampaloc.

I was in a park party with co-workers. I was walking around. I was thinking of talking about important matters.

I was watching Mario jump around, and there's a spiny fish that always annoyed me. I thought that Yoshi should be able to eat it. I also thought about how easy it is now to finish the game, unlike before.

---

Notes:

- Slept at around 2 a.m. Woke up to alarm at 8 a.m., but stood up at 8:30 a.m.
- Listened to Sam Harris audio on meditation upon sleeping.

I'm giving a woman a ride somewhere in a carriage, and when she's gotten settled I knock on the wall twice and we start moving. I go to lower the curtains on the windows, and as I do I catch sight of her fiance out on the street, obviously looking for her. She's already made it clear she doesn't want to be found at this moment. As I'm looking at him I'm struck again by how incredibly dull he seems. I say to her, "On God's green earth, what do you see in him?" I gave up my chance with her so I have no right to judge the man she chose, but still - him?

She says, "On God's green earth, I won't let you steal my plan. I can't." Either she has drastically changed the subject or else I've drastically misunderstood their relationship - either way, I have no idea what she's talking about.

Just then, her fiance spots us - I should have lowered that curtain - and he shouts her name, Ephigenia. He is being ridiculously overdramatic, people will think I'm kidnapping her.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Disembodied, I'm watching my son be interrogated by a pair of policemen. We don't have any legal ties under my present identity, at his insistence - he's old enough now that we look the same age, so adopting him again wouldn't have been practical, but I'd wanted to arrange something, and he'd refused. I'm particularly annoyed about that now, when a legal connection would come in handy.

They've accused him and his sister - his biological sister, I didn't raise her, hadn't known she was alive until just now - of murder, and he's been repeatedly telling them he's innocent, but they've just produced an audio recording of what is clearly his voice stating that "we" - he and his sister - have been waiting for this since he was nine years old. As I hear the recording, I see a mental image of him at the moment he spoke those words, with a man tied up in front of them. Up until this moment I'd believed he was innocent. Back in the interrogation room, he's insisting that the voice on the recorder isn't his, but he's clearly fooling no one. They've been letting him tell his story, knowing he was lying the entire time.

I've heard enough. I remove my awareness from the interrogation room. Back in my body, I'm standing in my son's apartment - a tiny studio with a mattress on the floor, cluttered with random piles of clothes and other things. He wasn't doing well. I'm extremely annoyed about this situation - he'd betrayed me, he'd made it clear he was going to cause trouble for me, but for him to simply be removed from the situation like this by unrelated people, that doesn't sit right with me.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm running - as fast as I can manage, which isn't very - along a snow-covered mountain path, trying to hold my throat closed as much as possible. I'm wearing black leather gloves, the blood blends in very well. This isn't the first time I've had my throat slit, so at least this time I know my voice will come back eventually - just the memory of how frightening it had been the first time I had my throat slit still makes me uncomfortable. It's still incredibly inconvenient until it heals. One of my least favorite ways to 'die.' I'm thinking about the man who 'killed' me - a soldier on the same side I am. I don't know why he did this - he enjoys violence in general, so I'm hoping it was just something personal and not something larger I'd have to worry about.

Thinking about that man's possible motivations prompts a scene change. I'm peeling an orange as a visitor goes upstairs to meet with that man who'll slit my throat. I can hear the sound of an opera recording on the phonograph, and I warned the visitor that it's best not to interrupt while he's listening to his music - I didn't say this, but I'm pretty sure opera is the only thing that man loves aside from violence - but the visitor ignored me. Shortly later I hear the visitor scream.

I'm looking at a painting with the artist beside me. St. George and the dragon - I recognize that the dragon is meant to be myself. After noticing that, I recognize who St. George is meant to represent too. I say to her, very slowly and deliberately, "George can't save you." Whether I can do anything for her either isn't certain, but "George" definitely can't, despite what he believes.

A woman's looking over a small art collection - sketches of the building she's in from various earlier eras, collected in a large book. On the wall directly over the book is a recent painting of this same building, but showing it thousands of years earlier when there was a lake here, with the door opening directly onto the water. She finds this painting a little funny - unlike the historical sketches, she believes this one's a sort of what-if image. The building's old but it's not that old. But the man who commissioned the painting, the owner of this place, she's thinking of him as being oddly precise about where the lake should be in relation to the building; as far as she's aware there's no evidence that there was ever really a lake here at all. The title of the painting is Lake Hae or Hayle or something along those lines. Although the building in the painting and the building in modern times are identical, somehow in the painting it gives the impression of being someplace sacred.

She turns the pages of the book - she's careful with it, it's very valuable. After the sketches of the building there are a series of anatomical sketches and portraits. She's on a page showing several sketches of an old man, mostly bald and with a sort of rounded profile. As a disembodied observer, I'm fond of the sketch, sort of nostalgic about it - both about the subject and about the sketch itself. She keeps turning the pages, and there's a sketch of a young man with a very square jaw; looking at him changes the scene.

Still in the same room, but a couple centuries earlier; the walls are lined with bookshelves. There's a woman sketching, holding a conversation with a man sitting in a chair. A servant comes into the room - he's that young man from the sketch - and the man in the chair stands up to speak with him. A man all in black and with very long black hair, he's the same man who owned this building and that art collection in modern times.

I was a popular artist, and some high-end museum had commissioned some work. I was going to take some tree roots and cover them with paper mache. But somehow all the supplies for my artwork ended up in this black guy's car. He started driving off with them. So I hopped into my car and chased him. I followed him all night. Finally he stopped for gas at a convenience store. As he was inside paying, I hastily piled all the stuff from his car into mine and then got in my car and floored it back to my studio. Then I wrote a letter to a friend, telling her what happened.

Hypnagogia, non-lucid

- All of the sudden I'm folding a huge piece of paper, which is constructed with lot of smaller segments may be the size of an A2 sheet. There are some watercolors paintings here and there. I´m just trying to fold the whole thing which has become a bit complicated to do.

- I realize I'm clearly hearing a lot of female laughing on the background.

- I'm standing next to a pile of things, when an electric guitar toy fall to my side. I reflectively react with a fast move and catch it on the fall./...

* I wake up with a jolt (shake?) on the bed.

.../ I'm sitting on a chair and a black cat jumps on my legs. I don't know its intentions, but I'm afraid it will slap me in the face. The cat does nothing but seems nervous. I find it logic that it will end up slapping me in the face because of confusion. The scene turns stressing. I'm waiting for its next move but I let it stay on my legs/...

* If I wouldn't have taken notes, these segments were lost forever.

.../I'm in some art galleries. There's a lot of young people walking here and there. I've made a collage using some pictures from a girl friend apparently I know well and posted on the wall. She sees one of her paintings hanging on the board. She gets upset, because she thinks her work sucks. I hold her from the hip when she wants to walk away. I tell her it's OK, that she must not worry about her works because she's a great artist.
I see her talking to her 'Grand Master', who is sort of presence on a huge screen hanging from the roof. She asks him if the tattooed man is the man with the little tattoo that she has already dreamed with. I think she may be referring me, but I'm not sure. There's certain DV thing in all of this, but I cannot clearly distinguish what is it exactly.
I get into her room, and looking around I tell her it's a great atelier and that I miss the two I got to build. I get into another room in a side, when another girl gets in. I saw her and ask her for what happened because of we were going to have sex and I'm still waiting. She turns her back on me, and gets closer, lifting her tight golden dress. I help her and we start having some fun/...

.../I'm in my grandparents' house. My foster mother (my aunt mom) finally got to see my little daughter again. She tries to carry her, but I see she's to heavy now and I ask her to put her down. But she goes out to greet some relative who gets into the scene in a car with her son. They talk about something, I want to take my daughter back home. The older one sleeps on the table in the kitchen, and my aunt-mom tells me she looks like my little half brother. I agree/...

.../I'm seeing a dance on a field, actually there are two folkloric dances mixed together. The dancers are forming couples which change from one to another along the song. In certain part of the choreography they kiss. I see some girls making a gesture with the mouth, like trying to avoid a real contact.
We are in the lake, the water covers my legs, but my upper side is still dry. I friend of mine wants to submerge us all. He dives in. I see his hair floating. The water level is rising. I don't want to get deeper because of the cold. He's lying on the bottom. I dive in to see if everything is OK. He plays to snore, and tells something and dives out. But I made a false move and get into a deep zone. Now I'm floating and tell people that the water levels are rising. I look for somewhere to put my feet on. I see my shadow moving on the bottom. The water is clear. At the end, I got all my clothing wet, but it feels nice to be here/...

* Recall is improving again and there's still a whole week to play some more.

A nightmare involving a creature called the Sandman whose facial features are fluid, constantly slowly changing; and then a false awakening in which the Sandman creature is approaching my POV character's bed.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm walking around the grounds of a mansion where I've been staying. Talking to someone, he's looking at something behind me and says, "Look at that, straight out of a painting." I turn around to look. The sky in the distance is yellow-tinged and nearly completely covered by these two dark slabs of storm clouds, like solid walls. The opening between them makes me think of the parting of the seas. The water beneath those clouds is being tossed up in such a way that it's revealed an old and famous shipwreck, it's been pulled out of the depths. Another ship, a modern one, is thrown out of the sea by the winds, and it crashes straight through one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the mansion.

(A false awakening mostly about trying to describe that last scene, then actually woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm looking after an enormous, shaggy black 'dog' - more like an enormous wolf - that belongs to my neighbor. Most of the dream revolves around playing with him and petting him. When I go to feed him, his water is kept in a intricately curved copper tube, almost like a French horn.

Dream - Lucid

I was living in some strange society that very much so valued pregnancy. Everyone was still human, but there were these weird dolls that looked like small, humanoid potatoes whose bellies would pop out if you were pregnant. It's like you'd set it, it would tick like an egg timer for a few seconds, and then, either the belly would pop out or it wouldn't. The dolls were sitting on a small side cabinet type thing. The people in charge kept them. They were checked daily.

I was pregnant, but only a week into it. I was still married to Dallas, but for some reason, I wanted to bring Cherie' into our relationship. I did something to where it "set" her to being my wife too. I saw a diagram of her laying in the middle of my bed. I then somehow "set" her to be pregnant too. She did not know about any of this.

I then changed my mind, however, and changed her "settings" back to how they were before, not with Dallas and I and not pregnant. I then went to check my doll, and its belly did pop out. Cherie' was right behind me, and went to do the same when I was finished. I watched her from behind. She said, before anything happened with the doll,
"There's no way I'm pregnant."
The doll's timer clicked a few times, and then its belly then popped out. She was quite surprised. I knew that she would soon have a miscarriage, however, since I "set" her back to not being pregnant. I did not say anything to her as this all was happening.

Then, I was thinking about being pregnant. I then thought about how some people just gave birth to photographs, not babies. I wondered if I was going to be one of those people.

Dream skip. I was inside some building. Others were there as well. I was watching a blue octopus "walk" on the land. He was quite close to me, and I was quite taken by the creature. A man then crushed the octopus against a wall to kill it. It then looked like it had deflated. I was so pissed that someone would do something like that! The poor creature! The man carried off the deflated body of the octopus.

I was then with someone, and we were looking for the guy. We were walking around in some hotel/apartment type building. We found him in a room, and it was a man I work with, Barry. I then couldn't be too mad at him, because Barry is a nice guy.

Then, this other person and I were outside watching this guy delivering a pizza to a couple of people on the other side of a barbed-wire fence. The pizza was in its box and the box was inside of a white plastic bag. There may have been other food in there as well. He tossed it into the fence, and it got stuck towards the top. The people on the other side couldn't get it, but the pizza guy started to walk away like he didn't care. The person I was with and I went to go dislodge the bag for the people on the other side of the fence. We started to do so, trying not to get pricked by the barbed wire, and then, I woke up to the sound of my cat playing with a plastic bag.

~

I was at a school/job, taking some art course. I, IWL, do not draw or paint. I was learning in the dream, and had to take over for someone for awhile whose normal job was to keep up with all the artwork by doing the art and then keeping up with and maintaining it. There was a lady who then came in to make sure I was doing everything correctly. She commented on these shelves that had lots of paintings on them, and how they needed to be straightened up. I looked at the shelves, and they were indeed covered in paintings. I told her I was getting to it and that I had just gotten there. She then handed me a paper that showed how I had scored. I did great in everything; it showed 100s next to many explanations, but there was one that had a 7. It meant a 7/10. I was pretty sure it had to do with maintaining the shelves.

I then was in the art room drawing and looking at the classic-looking analog clock on the wall. I noticed it was almost time for me to take my lunch; I was going from noon-1. I was drawing the silhouette of a woman with long, flowing hair holding a rose.

I then told someone I was going to lunch. I then went into a band room. The chairs were set up in an arch, as you usually see in a band room. I saw my old friend from high school band, Alex S., sitting on the far right side in the front with his trombone. Other people were in there as well. He asked something about bass trombones, and who played. I raised my hand, and he said
"You play?" He seemed excited. I then said
"No, but you play both, don't you?"
He said yes, he did. He then got up to let me have his seat. I walked up to the seat, and took the trombone. I hit it against something on accident, and it made a "dong" noise a couple of times. I was a little embarrassed. I then was not holding a trombone, but a violin, I believe. I then noticed my old cat, Ziggy, sitting close by. He was watching me. I looked into his eyes, and asked him with my mind
"How am I doing? Am I doing alright?"
I was referring to the art now. It was like he had been there for the review that the lady gave, or he was somehow also the lady who gave it.
He started at me, looking into my eyes as if to acknowledge that I was communicating with him. I noticed how big his eyes were. I "remembered" how he always sat in that spot by the low brass section. I then saw his tail flick the ground. His tail looked fluffy and brown, in contrast to his orange and white fur, though, in the dream, I cannot remember what color his fur was. I knew it was Ziggy, but his fur looked different, though I could't tell you exactly how.

My husband's alarm then woke me up.

~

IWL, Ziggy was my best buddy growing up. He was, to me, a guardian. He watched over me and was always there when I was sad or sick. He made sure I was alright at all times. We had to put him down when I was 14 years old because he was very old (18) and very sick. I miss him still, even now that 12 years have passed since then.

Fragment: I am eating Pizza. Not trying to feed some zombie mutant form or anything. Just eating pizza. And I am actually eating a sane amount rather than last time.

I am watching a science fiction movie about the first manned mission to mars. It is a partnership between Nasa, China and the European space agency.
The first thing that I can recall seeing is the ship. It is huge by 'realistic' standards, perhaps 40m wide by 20m high by 100m long. The European space agencies worked to build the crew housing as well as find the crew members. China was responsible for the 'light speed engines'. I don't think they could go light speed necessarily, but they were engines that made the ship go very fast. Then attached to the outside were the engines that Nasa built designed for landing the ship on Mars. They were not as fast but they worked better when near planets, because supposedly the Chinese engines were affected by planet's gravity and could explode.
The ship is docked to the ISS, and there are two space shuttles there as well. The movie goes into some characters that are getting ready to board the ship, such as the captain. I think in total, about 10 people will be going to Mars.
We then see another character. A woman who was chosen to go, but declined as she had the feeling that something would go wrong. She was at home (somewhere in rural England) where there was a strong thunderstorm rolling through. She is with her daughter, who looks a lot like her, though is about two. She is talking on the phone with the people at the space agency saying that there is one last shuttle going up tomorrow and that if she wants to go, she still can. The woman says 'No' that she would rather take care of her daughter than be a part of history.
Cut back to outer space. Mars is coming in range to go to. But now here is the funny part. Mars comes REALLY close to earth. I mean like the planet was probably only a few thousand miles over the surface at its lowest point. I then carries on past earth. Supposedly the mission was supposed to 'chase' Mars after it passed earth. So the astronauts wait a few days.
So the big day comes. Time to fire the engines and chase down Mars. Right before the engines fire, we see that the crew checks in with the space agency. We see that something small on the ship has just detached from near the engines. There is a shot of the captain turning on the engines.
The Chinese engine fires, but only the one on the left. The one on the right seems to be malfunctioning, and spitting out fuel. The ship begins to spin violently. They try to turn on the Nasa engine to bring it into balance, but the Chinese engine is much more powerful. The ship begins to spiral down to earth, then the Chinese engine goes offline because it is too close to the earth's gravity. Using the Nasa engines, they are able to stabilize the ship before it falls into the atmosphere. The space agencies goes into emergency mode to fly up and fix the engine before Mars is out of range.

IWL, I'm going to college in the fall.

So I am going to my first day at college. The campus feels much more built up than it is IWL. I meet my roommate who has long curly hair and seems like a nice guy.

I forget a great deal of what happened, but I recall this part where everyone is drawing with sidewalk chalk. There are some very talented artists present. I try to draw a character but for some reason he continually becomes very small. I scratch him out and try to draw the character huge, like 10 feet high, but I look away then look back and my drawing is tiny again.

Ritual: Went to bed around 12:50am. Woke naturally at 3:32. Seemed a bit soon to WBTB but my motivation was good and I recalled traces of imagery so decided to go for it. Drank guayusa tea and read Brooks & Vogelsong. Before going to bed did hybrid of SSILD/counting/affirmation while sitting in chair. Technique: counted incrementally while breathing slowly and deeply, thinking the number on each in-breath, and on outbreath rotated between senses (thinking "look," "listen," or "feel") and then adding an affirmation, letting it fall randomly between "always lucid" or "always aware." Counted to fifty in this way, though I was impressed how easily it was to lose track of the number (this is good, it means the mind is losing its focus on waking life) even while sitting upright in a chair. Returned to bed at 4:52am and continued counting up to 70 while lying on my back, then ceased the practice and turned on my left side to sleep. I soon realized that I'd overdone the WBTB a bit and was excessively wakeful, but consoled myself that I should be able to return to sleep eventually given how few hours I had gotten so far, and my chances for WILDing should be improved by this touch of insomnia.

I had made sure to fix a very clear task in mind: I had read about the "fairy tale" challenges on DV and they seemed potentially interesting, but I realized I should make a clear plan. If I did successfully WILD I would find myself in my house, so how would I go about pursuing the task? My idea was this: grab a loaf of bread from the kitchen, exit the front door, turn right and walk up the hill, where in a previous WILD I had passed through a tunnel and found myself in a deep, dark forest. I could leave a trail of bread crumbs and see what happened from there.

WILD #1: It took a long time to go back to sleep. Eventually I felt sensations I interpreted as the onset of SP: tingling and distortion of the physical body, then a sense of weight on my chest so localized and specific that I wondered if the cat had actually jumped on me, but the weight quickly increased beyond that of any cat. I was encouraged because it seemed like this transition was happening very cleanly and consciously, and turned my attention to beginning to "move" the non-physical "body." I was careful not to wiggle my fingers or adjust my limbs lest I break SP, so I concentrated on unnatural movements like full-body rotation. I could begin to feel my body swinging in a horizontal rotation but didn't yet have enough traction to "get up" out of bed. Suddenly I felt a vertical "lift" as though my body had floated up several feet, and the next moment I was standing on my feet next to the bed. "And I'm up!" I thought to myself, pleased.

I noticed right away how dark it was, and despite the clarity of the transition, I did not feel well-integrated into the dream body. I deduced that this was probably a consequence of weak REM-state, given how little sleep I had gotten before the WBTB. I thought I'd better do some stabilization, so I touched some surfaces around me and then rubbed my hands together. This felt lifelike enough, so I became too easily complacent and didn't do anything further to integrate... a mistake, as it turned out. But I was pre-occupied with performing my task and didn't want to get distracted to the point where I never left the antechamber, as so often happens, so I rushed to get started.

I moved swiftly toward the kitchen and picked up the bag of bread from the counter as I passed through. It felt quite full, and I recalled that I had bought a new bag just the other day in waking life. Although the environment was still very muddy and vague, I could easily find my way through the house out of habit, so I headed straight for the front door. As I was crossing the threshold, I noticed that the bag of bread suddenly felt very light, as though there were only a few slices left. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should return to the kitchen, but didn't want to be distracted from my task, so I figured, "That's alright, I can always manifest more."

I walked out into the night, the outdoor environment no more distinct than the indoors had been, but I knew where I was going. I turned right and began to walk uphill, reaching into the bag to start dropping breadcrumbs. To encourage the right environment to appear, I started muttering under my breath: "Entering the world of Hansel & Gretel. Entering the world of Hansel & Gretel." But I only got off two recitations before I abruptly awoke. I realized my error at once: the dreamspace outside the antechamber is always less stable, and in my impatience to get started on the task, I hadn't integrated properly before exiting.

I lay for a long time in the position I woke in. Often I can seamlessly re-enter a WILD if I half-wake and don't move. But this was no half-waking: my mind was fully awoken and I soon realized that holding my position would be of no use, sleep had well and truly gone. I used the bathroom so it wouldn't pre-occupy me later and returned to bed, lying on my other side now to make a fresh start. By now the sun was rising so I got out my sleep mask from the drawer. I hate wearing it, but I could tell the light would be disruptive today. I considered checking the time but was trying not to stimulate wakefulness any further, so deliberately decided not to. It was evidently around sunrise, anyway, which occurred at 6:01am today according to Google. That was well over an hour after I had finished my WBTB and the dream can only have lasted a few minutes, so it must have taken me a very long time to fall asleep beforehand.

WILD #2: I lay on my right side and tried to keep a positive attitude: of course I can do it again! I re-WILD all the time! Not usually from such drastic awakening, admittedly, but I didn't let myself focus on the negatives. I wondered if I should rise and write a report, but reflected that there was little to report apart from the exact wording of the phrases I had thought or spoken, and these I had already scrawled in my notepad. The rest, what little there was, would be easy to remember. So I let go of those worries and focused attention on my breathing, remembering not to "try" to fall asleep but just let it happen. Eventually, it did.

Whereas the previous transition had been so vivid, this time I was surprised to find myself simply standing at the foot of the bed. I hadn't noticed the separation. But at least I remembered where I had gone wrong in the last attempt, and reminded myself: don't rush it. Get traction. Find something to do in the antechamber to better immerse yourself.

I noticed that this time the bedroom was full of books, stacked in messy piles and filling bags all over the floor. I figured that these would provide a good opportunity to more fully engage my senses in the dreamspace. So I selected a few and carried them with me as I moved out of the room. The kitchen floor was also covered with books, so many piles and stacks that was actually hard to pick a path through them. I was picking up volumes more or less at random until I noticed what was clearly an artist's sketchbook, a spiral-bound 9"x12" Strathmore, on top of one pile. "Oh, I should look at that!" I thought, and grabbed it. Finally I made my way to the living room, where I found a small oriental rug on the floor (about 2'x3', black pattern on a white background) and sat down on it to begin to peruse my books.

I chose the sketchbook first, because I was the most curious what I might find inside this one, and dream pictures tend to be easier to perceive and remember afterwards than dream text. The first picture I saw upon opening it was a portrait of what looked like a tribal chieftain, showing the upper half of his body and filling the whole page. He looked about middle-aged, with angular but weather-beaten features. The most distinctive element of the portrait, dominating most of the visual space, was the enormous headdress he was wearing. It wasn't made of feathers or any obvious RL material but seemed composed of abstract patterns with a Mayan styling to them. I took note of the colors. The headdress was all in shades of red, mostly an earthy brick shade. There were constrasting shades of muted green in the distinctive wide straps criss-crossing his body in various places. It didn't occur to me at the time, but the obvious deduction is that these straps were there to secure the enormous headdress.

After looking carefully at the first drawing, I turned the page. The next image I saw was more cartoon-like. The page was divided into four rectangular panels, each one the width of the page, and stacked vertically. There was a caption, though I don't remember if it was above or below the panels: "Doyle Oss Toss." How clever, I thought... until I realized that it didn't rhyme as well as I had thought at first, because I was aware from the start that "Oss" meant "Owl" but soon realized that the RL word had been distorted unrecognizably to fit the rhyme. My dream texts often demonstrate this tendency to favor rhyme and alliteration over comprehensible meaning.

The four panels showed the Doyle Owl being punted by a large shaggy grey wolf. The Owl was on the left, the wolf on the right, and the setting suggested the outdoors but was very plain, with little in the background to distract the eye. The sky behind them was dark. The first panel showed the Owl already in mid-air, with the wolf's head lowered, evidently having just head-butted it. The second panel showed the Owl about halfway down, in the act of falling, the wolf's head still lowered. The third panel showed the Owl having come to rest again on the ground, the wolf's position unchanged. The last panel showed the Owl lying on the ground where it had fallen, and now the wolf had lowered its haunches into a crouch and lifted its head toward the sky, howling in what I interpreted as triumph.

I think I might have spied one more drawing but I don't remember it, because around this time I woke up. In a false awakening. Which I didn't recognize. Responsibly, I immediately began to record the dream on my notepad, first sketching out the four-panel cartoon I have just described. After completing that, I started blocking out the tribal chieftain, and made some notes about the colors. I think I wrote about the green straps first, and when I started trying to describe the particular shades of red in the headdress, the dream began to evolve, and I thought I remembered dreaming that I was a sultan who had a vizier who wore a turban constructed of red cloth in various textures and shades, including a dark red kerchief. It's possible that this image relates to a drawing from the original sketchbook that I've forgotten, because as I was jotting down notes about color of his headgear a new visual appeared, where I could see the vizier from above and behind, with a clear vantage on the dark red kerchief, and I was surprised because I knew that I had not previously seen him from that perspective.

Before the FA could evolve any more, I woke up for real and recognized that I had just been writing my dream report in another dream, and I'd better get up and do it properly. In this case I didn't mind the delay because writing it down in the FA had helped cement the details in memory (this is not always the case). So I started jotting down my notes on the notepad next to my bed... only to realize soon after I'd started that even though I was more or less awake now, I still wasn't actually doing it, I was still just experiencing a kind of half-dreamed enactment of writing, and I should stop tricking myself and physically get out of bed so I could be sure I was doing it properly. So I got up and hastily sketched out the four-panel again—noticing with amusement how much crappier it looked in RL than in the more elegantly sketched version from my initial FA. I noted the time of rising as 6:56am, and recorded the rest of the dream on my laptop.

[Journal Entry on second paragraph]

This dream was pre-planned and was completely lucid. I had control of just about every aspect of the dream from beginning to end. I first thought of a person (a drawing I created) and then thought of a place (Japanese image). I meditated and had gotten this amazing result that I believe was out of sheer luck. Everything was just about to COMPLETE perfection. Minor details were askew, but it was life changing nonetheless. My initial plan was to arrive in the planned destination and then call out the person's name for her to appear. (she didn't have a name at the time) I gave her the name "Lin," (because she looked like a Lin I guess haha) and I needed us to have something to do for the dream to be more solid. So I planned to ask her to dance with me there since the atmosphere seemed fitting.
My entry below:


I had the most amazing dream of my life! I was in a strange black place that was difficult to figure out. Then appeared a lot of huge Chinese doors that I ran though one after the other. While I knew I was in the dream world, I tried harder and harder to imagine the place I wanted to go. With each door, the place started to form a bit more into view. I looked around and the place was a bit "lagged," as if I were in a game. I realized that I had to meet Lin and immediately called out "Lin! Liiiin!" My voice was so clear, I thought I was just awake and only "thinking," I was in a dream while yelling in my room which made me a bit nervous at first. I thought that I must at least be yelling in my sleep from the clarity of my voice. And then I saw her standing in the distance. I hurried toward her and was so surprised, it was so difficult to find the right words. I just then remembered what I planned to say . I said, "You must be Lin." She nodded. She tried to say something when I accidentally interrupted, asking her to dance. She agreed and we started a waltz on the deck. I looked a bit more closely at her and noticed her eyes were black and more like a humans. With just my mind, I fixed my dreams error and she looked more like herself. I also realized now after waking up, she was wearing a beautiful Chinese dress rather than what I had drawn to my surprise. She looked and me, smiling, and her voice was exactly as I had pre-imagined. A nice sounding voice with a Japanese accent since she was a Japanese based person. It was actually so strong, I asked her "Sorry, what was that?" Several times. She started talking about this guy there she wanted to avoid since he was driving 2mph or something (only in a dream that would make sense). I couldn't really hear her at random times for some reason. We danced around and she pulled me some ways to avoid someone. I started to realize it was time for me to leave and things were starting to fade away. Lin disappeared and there was a chair, or an erhu, or a bundle of giant spoons in front of me. I wanted to stay just another moment so that I could tell her I had a great time and we should meet again. I used my personal trick to stay in the dream and re-intensify it which was rubbing my hands together. A green bowl suddenly appeared in my hands and I fumbled around a bit to catch it and I figured it was a chance to focus on the bowl to get back the feel of this reality. Everything came back to a clearer view for another few seconds. I knew I was just about out of time and felt myself waking up. As everything started fading I shouted, "I had a great time Lin! We should meet again!" (or something like that.)

I dreamed I am trying to finish the birthday card for my nephew who is turning one year old soon. The background is finished and it's a card painted in watercolor paints. I draw six wolves howling to the moon around a birthday cake. The wolves are all grey and white at first but near the end of the dream they all change to different colors. The wolves are drawn in a sort of stylized cartoony block style. I am upset in my dream because I don't think I can actually paint that good and I won't have the card or my nephew's present done in time because I only have one day to do it.

I was in a classroom being led by my high school visual art teacher. She gave us a drawing assignment for our sketchbooks to complete by the end of the week. I flipped through my sketchbook and found that I had not completed the previous two drawing assignments. I felt that I couldn't even start the third assignment until I had completed the previous two so I because drawing frantically with dark pencils and charcoal.

In the first assignment I needed to draw a Christamas tree and the second assignment had something to do with an outdoor landscape. I cannot remember what the third assignment was.

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).