I'm recording this mainly because several elements of my awake life have drifted into this. I find that interesting, even if the dream doesn't hold the meaning that I normally hope to find in my dreams:
In my dream, I am in a room in what might be an older college dorm. Things are spartan but durable and neat. I know I have a reason for being there, but that knowledge is not part of the dream. If that makes sense to you...
Either before or after -- or maybe during -- experiencing being in that room, I am also outside standing next to a rather rough playing field, where there's a football game going on. There's no spectator seating and no one is standing on the side of the field other than myself. The play is currently at a considerable distance from where I'm standing. I realize that this would be an excellent opportunity to try out an old camera that I have -- a film camera -- for some action shots of the players. I then realize that I have such a camera plus fresh batteries plus a fresh roll of film in my possession, so I move to retrieve same.
(The reason for my recording is based in this last sentence, because it's actually true in my waking life!)
I think I'm now back inside and unzipping the green canvas carrying case to remove said camera. It's always just a bit of work to pull out the camera -- you have to wiggle it back and forth a bit. I can feel the canvas and the teeth of the zipper. It's very reassuring.
I look at the back of the camera, which reminds me that one of the reasons that digital photography has made such remarkable technical advances is that, once you no longer have to pop open the camera back to change out a roll of film, all that real estate on the camera back becomes available for viewing and control elements.
My brother Warren shows up in the dream and is impressed with the camera. He sees something on the front and says "Wow! It's got png!" or something equivalent. I know it was a so-so camera when it was new, and that it hasn't improved with age. It's not like it's a 30-year-old Hasselblad or anything... I decline to say anything to him about this. He's pleased and so be it. I look at the front of the camera and can't see any designation for the term he used. It's a pretty plain camera!
I experience the feeling of holding the camera and moving the telephoto ring -- listening and feeling the unmistakable feeling and sound of plastic-on-plastic. I immediately recall the joy of doing the same motion with my Canon cameras and L lenses. No plastic here!
I take the lens cap off. It's attached to the camera on a string. Nobody does that any more. I hold the camera up to my face and move the zoom ring and then the focus ring. They both seem to work fine. I put the lens cap back on and it snaps into place.
So, as mentioned above, I find it intriguing and rather fun to have my real life "stuff" showing up in my dream -- with color and tactile sense.
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Thursday, December 12, 2019
Bad Dream 108 -- Morning of 12/11/19
In my dream, I am in a classroom -- sitting in one of those student chairs. There are other people around me, also confined to those chairs. The teacher is talking about something -- I don't think it's anything crucial to the course we're taking.
He moves from the center front of the room to the side, then starts walking slowly down the side aisle. He's still talking, but it still doesn't feel like it's world shaking information.
I find myself standing up and walking to the front of the room. I'm not sure why. Some of the other students are surprised but not concerned. I look at the teacher, and his face tells me that what I'm doing is okay.
I start into my "packaged" description of Foucault's Pendulum. I love to share the story of this wonderful device. So I can tell the story fully and with energy. I guess this must be a lucent dream, because I am following the story carefully as I tell it -- and double-check that I'm telling it correctly.
I wind up the story -- and wake up moments later.
He moves from the center front of the room to the side, then starts walking slowly down the side aisle. He's still talking, but it still doesn't feel like it's world shaking information.
I find myself standing up and walking to the front of the room. I'm not sure why. Some of the other students are surprised but not concerned. I look at the teacher, and his face tells me that what I'm doing is okay.
I start into my "packaged" description of Foucault's Pendulum. I love to share the story of this wonderful device. So I can tell the story fully and with energy. I guess this must be a lucent dream, because I am following the story carefully as I tell it -- and double-check that I'm telling it correctly.
I wind up the story -- and wake up moments later.
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
Bad Dream 107 -- Morning of 12/10/19
In my dream, I am in a hotel room with two other guys. We are there to close a big business deal. I think it has to do with that corner of the intersection of Wilson Point Road and Eastern Avenue. Ages ago, it was a baseball "stadium" for the Martins Aircraft company team and a set of four seldom-used tennis courts . Since the stadium was torn down and the courts removed, to the best of my recall, it has simply stayed as an open field. Grass that was well mown, but otherwise empty. So it represented quite a reasonable investment for commercial development.
We're pretty excited about the deal, and Jack McMichael -- one of the two other people -- seems to be in the lead. The third person is an Unidentifiable.
Jack is disappointed in the room. It's small and it feels as if the three of us are supposed to share it. There's only enough room for a single bed. In particular, there is -- what I think was -- a light switch that should have been a 3-way or other advanced function, but is only an on/off switch and not a very solid one at that.
Jack feels he should apologize to myself and that 3rd person. We kind of feel the same, but we feel bad for Jack as well. Somehow, the idea of changing accommodations is not feasible.
(I have the feeling that I'd stayed at this facility back when I was doing a lot of business travel and got used to the small size etc., but I don't see any reason to mention that to the other guys.)
We find ourselves outdoors in a parking lot. It may be the lot right behind the motel where we're staying, but that's not for certain. It's a bright day and feels like morning. Across the asphalt of the (empty) parking spaces, there is an "elevator," which is certainly disturbing: it is simply a platform with a blank wall at the back and another blank wall on the left side -- but the other two sides are wide open to the world. So there isn't so much of an elevator car as it is simply a platform. There are no guide rails on any of the four sides of this platform. I can't see any mechanism that makes the platform go up and down, but I am sure that it does go up and down.
I understand clearly how dangerous it would be to ride this device. You could easily fall off the two open sides and its possible you could catch a piece of clothing in the gap between the platform and one of the two supporting walls. If you did catch a piece of clothing and couldn't shed it, you would likely be crushed when the platform moved.
Looking closer at the underside of the platform, I see the body of a child -- maybe 8 or 10 years old suspended underneath. Somehow, he seems to have gotten his head/neck caught between the wall and the platform with his body hanging under the platform. The body isn't moving -- and it seems incredibly unlikely that the child is alive at all. He's wearing blue.
Someone approaches the child -- not one of our party of three. The guy is tall and thin. He reaches up and touches the shoe of the child. I initially assume he's doing this to confirm that the child is dead, but he turns around to face everyone else in the parking lot (there may be a dozen or so of us) and shouts "I touched him!" I feel an immediate feeling of disgust. The man showed no sense of the nature of this tragedy -- he simply wanted to show the people in his group how brave he was.
No one in the larger group does or says anything. I can't tell whether it's because they don't care or whether they are as shocked and appalled as I am.
It seems/feels as if no one really knows what to do. The body of the child continues to hang under the elevator -- unmoving. Suspended by his neck.
Since I first saw the child, I've been trying to figure out a way to release and recover the body. It's horrifying to see it just hanging there. I can't imagine, however, how to do that. I "know" that the space between the platform and the back wall is quite small -- and depending on how thick the platform is, either the child's neck or his head has been crushed by the movement of the platform. I feel it's sensible to wait until some first responders with better equipment and/or better ideas show up.
I decide the reasonable/logical thing to do is to call 911. I pat down my pockets to find my phone, but can't locate it. I feel frustrated and annoyed at myself that I can't even do something active/constructive as calling 911.
I decide the only thing I can do would be to write a report -- just in case there was a legal proceeding that occurs after this horrible event.
We're pretty excited about the deal, and Jack McMichael -- one of the two other people -- seems to be in the lead. The third person is an Unidentifiable.
Jack is disappointed in the room. It's small and it feels as if the three of us are supposed to share it. There's only enough room for a single bed. In particular, there is -- what I think was -- a light switch that should have been a 3-way or other advanced function, but is only an on/off switch and not a very solid one at that.
Jack feels he should apologize to myself and that 3rd person. We kind of feel the same, but we feel bad for Jack as well. Somehow, the idea of changing accommodations is not feasible.
(I have the feeling that I'd stayed at this facility back when I was doing a lot of business travel and got used to the small size etc., but I don't see any reason to mention that to the other guys.)
We find ourselves outdoors in a parking lot. It may be the lot right behind the motel where we're staying, but that's not for certain. It's a bright day and feels like morning. Across the asphalt of the (empty) parking spaces, there is an "elevator," which is certainly disturbing: it is simply a platform with a blank wall at the back and another blank wall on the left side -- but the other two sides are wide open to the world. So there isn't so much of an elevator car as it is simply a platform. There are no guide rails on any of the four sides of this platform. I can't see any mechanism that makes the platform go up and down, but I am sure that it does go up and down.
I understand clearly how dangerous it would be to ride this device. You could easily fall off the two open sides and its possible you could catch a piece of clothing in the gap between the platform and one of the two supporting walls. If you did catch a piece of clothing and couldn't shed it, you would likely be crushed when the platform moved.
Looking closer at the underside of the platform, I see the body of a child -- maybe 8 or 10 years old suspended underneath. Somehow, he seems to have gotten his head/neck caught between the wall and the platform with his body hanging under the platform. The body isn't moving -- and it seems incredibly unlikely that the child is alive at all. He's wearing blue.
Someone approaches the child -- not one of our party of three. The guy is tall and thin. He reaches up and touches the shoe of the child. I initially assume he's doing this to confirm that the child is dead, but he turns around to face everyone else in the parking lot (there may be a dozen or so of us) and shouts "I touched him!" I feel an immediate feeling of disgust. The man showed no sense of the nature of this tragedy -- he simply wanted to show the people in his group how brave he was.
No one in the larger group does or says anything. I can't tell whether it's because they don't care or whether they are as shocked and appalled as I am.
It seems/feels as if no one really knows what to do. The body of the child continues to hang under the elevator -- unmoving. Suspended by his neck.
Since I first saw the child, I've been trying to figure out a way to release and recover the body. It's horrifying to see it just hanging there. I can't imagine, however, how to do that. I "know" that the space between the platform and the back wall is quite small -- and depending on how thick the platform is, either the child's neck or his head has been crushed by the movement of the platform. I feel it's sensible to wait until some first responders with better equipment and/or better ideas show up.
I decide the reasonable/logical thing to do is to call 911. I pat down my pockets to find my phone, but can't locate it. I feel frustrated and annoyed at myself that I can't even do something active/constructive as calling 911.
I decide the only thing I can do would be to write a report -- just in case there was a legal proceeding that occurs after this horrible event.
Bad Dream 106 -- Morning of 12/7/19
In my dream, I am walking through a crowded shopping area. It's more congested than a typical mall, but consists of rows of shops left and right. You can't avoid bumping into people, but everyone seems to be getting along with the crowded condition. They seem to be used to it.
I am walking through this area with two friends -- one male and one female. I think we're all in maybe our 40's or so. For some unexplained reason, I'm upset with them. They decide and suggest to get some ice cream. I would really like some ice cream myself, but am being petulant -- like a small child. They get ice cream cones and start walking away. After they've gone some distance (it's not clear whether I walked with them or not) I return to the ice cream stand to order my own cone. As was the case earlier, there are a number of clients looking to get service.
I decide I want to get a cone with Butter Brickle ice cream. The attendant waiting on me looks puzzled and explains that they don't have Butter Brickle. My petulant behavior rises again and I explain to him that of course they do. He points to his board of available flavors, and I can't find Butter Brickle on the list. But I insist that they do have it. (The list is written with chalk on a slate. The writing is not well done so that the selections are not easily discernible.
I am told that yes, they do have Butter Brickle and will prepare my cone immediately. I feel gratified and justified. My pique has paid off.
I start walking away from the ice cream stand and realize that I don't have an ice cream cone of any variety.
I am walking through this area with two friends -- one male and one female. I think we're all in maybe our 40's or so. For some unexplained reason, I'm upset with them. They decide and suggest to get some ice cream. I would really like some ice cream myself, but am being petulant -- like a small child. They get ice cream cones and start walking away. After they've gone some distance (it's not clear whether I walked with them or not) I return to the ice cream stand to order my own cone. As was the case earlier, there are a number of clients looking to get service.
I decide I want to get a cone with Butter Brickle ice cream. The attendant waiting on me looks puzzled and explains that they don't have Butter Brickle. My petulant behavior rises again and I explain to him that of course they do. He points to his board of available flavors, and I can't find Butter Brickle on the list. But I insist that they do have it. (The list is written with chalk on a slate. The writing is not well done so that the selections are not easily discernible.
I am told that yes, they do have Butter Brickle and will prepare my cone immediately. I feel gratified and justified. My pique has paid off.
I start walking away from the ice cream stand and realize that I don't have an ice cream cone of any variety.
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