Morning of July 9, 2018. Monday. I am in our present home in my dream, though which seems rotated from north to west, perpendicular to its real location on the corner (intersection). Our youngest son is building a biplane from Lego. However, when I look again, it seems he has changed it so that it is now a building. He is sitting on our youngest daughter’s bed (where he had slept temporarily). I puzzle over this. I visualize the Lego biplane as being vertical and upright, but then consider that I may have only been looking at the “skeletal” foundation of the building (even though it was an actual transformation typical of the dream state). This dream is based on very common (an average of more than once per sleep cycle) anticipatory autosymbolism for vestibular system correlation. This does not always result in actual “flight” or a direct change in physicality upon waking (such as a hypnopompic kick or common falling sensation). In this case, with the bed as the literal dream state indicator, with an airplane autosymbolism for physicality in regard to VSC, it simply represents standing up after getting out of bed, though is also an association with our youngest son sometimes standing on this same bed in reality. Some previous (posted online) dreams in which a biplane or biplane hang glider has featured include: Biplane Hang Glider Mishap, February 27, 2016 Biplane in my Pillow, April 4, 2012 Water from a Biplane, December 20, 2010 Biplane Directive, January 2, 1972 They are not as common as other flight symbols (that is, dream state contemporaneous symbolism of VSC, which is usually unrelated to waking life), such as helicopters, of which have featured in hundreds of my dreams since childhood, some featured in my entry “40 Helicopter Dreams”, posted on May 20, 2018.
Morning of December 20, 2010. Monday. I am with my lovely wife Zsuzsanna. There is anticipation of intimacy but we are first to travel elsewhere by flight. We are in a blue biplane, though it is in a hangar and I illogically do not fully consider the need to leave the hangar before flying our airplane. (This lack of reasoning of which relates to liminal space ambiguity in REM has occurred in many other dreams.) Zsuzsanna is wearing a beautiful cyan gown. Looking closely, I see denser bird silhouettes in the otherwise lacy sparse material in a flying form in what seems to be fairly small embroidered patterns. She is on my right (an atypical orientation, as she always sleeps on my left, though that may be because she is awake at the time). The dials in the biplane seem to be more like clocks than altimeters or other cockpit-relevant displays. It looks like one says “12:20” (in an analogue clock display, not digital), which is today’s date (and also my birthday). To my immediate left, some sort of vertical pipe that connects the wings seems to have a leak where some water is flowing out. I try to stop the leak with a piece of what seems to be part of a pillowcase or bed sheet. I notice one of Zsuzsanna’s shoes off to the right on the floor. The pipe that connects the wings of the biplane on my left side seems somewhat detached and I wobble it around a bit, somewhat puzzled. I am not sure if the airplane is ready to take off and fly even though I start to hear a humming sound, though I soon wake.
Updated 09-11-2019 at 05:07 PM by 1390
Morning of January 2, 1972. Sunday. I am apparently a member of a group of detectives. I seem much older and I do not seem implied to be my conscious self. I am riding in the front seat on the right and I am not the driver. The driver is an unknown male with a celebrity essence, though unfamiliar. We are in what may be a police car, but from the 1920s or 1930s. We are supposed to prevent a biplane from taking off from the runway of a small airport. Soon, it is headed right for us. Oddly, we are also copied into a scene in front of us at somewhat of a distance. That is, we are watching “our” car on the runway ahead, with another us (yet somehow still us). I am thinking “we” might be struck by the biplane if we keep going but it is not that fearful. (The sense of anticipation is not that vivid.) The biplane lifts from the runway a few times, but only just a little, and is back down. Eventually stopping, and the other us no longer present, it turns out that the biplane is only a painted mural (or perhaps a low-set billboard) so it was never really a threat. We get out of the car. The biplane is now facing the left side of the car and it seems we may be on a normal city street. I feel like saying something but I do not.
Updated 09-11-2019 at 07:17 PM by 1390
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