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8/25/2013, 9:30-6:00

Notes: I finished reading a book about body language before going to sleep last night.

Dream 1 :

I was in town, walking around thinking about open body language. I was correcting people who had closed body language in the park area in front of the funeral home, and in front of the general store. I walked from the park area to in front of the general store. I most remember this conversation some old guy in a suit was having with some young guy in a suit. The old guy had his arms and legs crossed, and I think his coat was buttoned. He was also facing the young guy directly. I went over to him and told him he had to keep open body language if he wanted to be friendly with people. I uncrossed his arms and legs and told him about keeping his palms up. The old guy just continued his conversation with the guy, barely noticing me. There was also a lot of dialogue I forgot in the dream.

Dream 2:

I was at the Malverne middle school across the street from the high school. I think there was like a rock and roll festival going on there. Many guitars were inside the school. Also, when I went outside on the auditorium side, it was raining and there was a GIANT guitar on the area in front of the auditorium. Someone came up to me and said it was raining, so the guitar didn't work. The person pulled a string to show this, and the guitar didn't make any noise. I was watching the guitar for a while until suddenly, a nuke went off! To the southwest, I saw a mushroom cloud of fire rise from the ground. It wasn't an iconic mushroom cloud. It had too wide of a base and not enough top area. It sort of looked like this:

After that, I ran back into the school, and the dream ended.

Dream 3:

A false awakening. I woke up in my bed in Malverne to my mom and dad talking in their room. My brother might have been there. That's all I remember.

Dream 4:
Another false awakening. This time, I woke up in a white house with white walls and everything pretty much white. When I got up, I remember my parents talking in their room again, wherever that was :/. I also remember saying something to them with an intercom next to my bed. Then, I got up and walked around for a while. That's all.

Dream 5:

I don't remember this one very much at all. I'm not even entirely sure it was a dream. I remember machinery: like gears and stuff; giant gears. I remember climbing up them and jumping and stuff up a mechanical tower.

WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID
BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT

This dream is from the night before the night before last


Book-ended Children

Children running down a sloping sidewalk that curved back and forth. Stone wall along the sidewalk. Cobblestone ground. My consciousness looking down on them as they ran toward “me”. Saying to myself I remember this, I remember reading this. My mom was showing me another reel.

There was something forced about what the children were doing. they didn’t like it but they did relatively well at pretending. I think I knew more about why, that it had something to do with the parents, but I don’t recall now.

Mom put on another old reel. it seemed to be of my father’s side of the family. I knew he would like to see it and wondered at my mom having it instead of him.

In waking life my father idealizes tradition and is also an extraordinarily creative and brilliant man. I think he idealizes being a child, simple carefree yet responsible times. He was a “hippie” black sheep in his family when he was younger. That side of my family had a lot of power that was used for massive capitalistic gains and political influence. There is corruption, greed, addiction, and yet amazing intelligence and creativity smattered around the people. I am curious and feel it is important to know more about this family history. It also makes me feel sick to think of knowing more. My fascination and desire to know the different sides of my family (and myself) usually wins out, though. Well, at least in the internal battles of which I am aware.

I watched the reel on an old contraption that displayed more like a television than a projector. My mom stood to the side, close to the moving picture.

Soft thwacking noises like an old projector. I could almost see the frames as they shuffled past, specks and lines of light flashing and morphing with them.

A man (I think a/the/[my?] father), somber and proud like in older photographs, sat on the right, looking at the camera. The children to the left of him in their sitting positions, and then sat a huge man in a tuxedo complete with tailcoat. The two men were like bookends, the children between them. We’d only been watching it a minute, and mom already wanted to change reels. I said no, I want to see them when they move. I said their body language would be very significant, would show me more about who they actually are. It felt intensely important and I was riveted.

The large, hulking man stood and walked to the right. Maybe 8 or 9 feet tall, who knows, maybe 10. Big, round belly, sloped shoulders. (He reminds me of the way my maternal grandpa looked when he was dying of cancer, that same kind of oval shape, but much more extreme, and more solid and thick.) I didn’t think he was a family member of mine. The father (it was my impression I think, though perhaps it was a waking reflection) stood and slowly walked to the right. I watched his body carefully (from where the audience would be if there was one) and couldn’t tell much about him from the way he walked. It was so slow, as if he was favoring physical pain. His stiffness swallowed up his personality.

There were a lot of dream characters projecting their personae in this dream, like they were conforming to older, more serious social pressures. Personae that were hollow yet strong. Weak, deep, and shallow and full of tightly woven rules.

I feel an association between the father dream character and my paternal great grandfather, father of my father's father. I never knew him. It makes sense, given my grandfather’s and his brother’s dichotomies, success and greed for one, creativity and susceptibility in the other. Or so I've interpreted and oversimplified.

The trickle of this history of family emotions is a reason I think this song taps a large body of water inside me.



“I am out here studying stones
trying to learn to be less alive
using all of my will to keep very still
still even on the inside

I've cut all the pertinent wires
so my eyes won't make their connections
I am holding my breath
I am feigning my death
when I'm looking in your direction

...when all the forbidden fruit is fallen and rotted
well that's when I'm gonna come down"

Even if they’re partial hogwash, I feel love flowing from new understandings.