A couple of things affecting this report:
-- it happened two mornings ago, so details will have evaporated, and
-- at this point in time, we're still flailing away at understanding what the novel Coronavirus is all about. As the infection and death rates start to climb alarmingly. We get conflicting reports from reputable sources and absolute blather from the Lizard King. But here goes.
In my dream, I am in a room which functions both as a classroom and as a laboratory. I am here as an adult student along with maybe a dozen other adult students. My dream tells me I know them, but I don't think that "knowing" extended back into my waking life. That is, I don't remember seeing Tommy or Kurt or Ron from my waking life.
The class has been regrettably extended into a "double period," which means that this session is twice as long as usual. We're almost through with the first half of this doubled session, but it feels like there's not a lot of material left for the teacher to elaborate on or teach about.
The teacher is explaining something about a small paint sprayer -- it may be like a typical spray can of Rustoleum or somesuch. As a demonstration, she sprays a number of lines of paint on a sample piece of flat plastic or metal -- maybe four inches wide and ten or twelve inches long. The material is an off-white, grayish color and the paint is a medium-darkish green. The paint sprays on in lines and the lines of paint leave a goodly amount of unpainted surface between them. She is talking about what a smooth finished surface this will look like -- and I don't see any way that will happen, given the extensive unpainted surfaces between the lines of paint. I am astonished somewhat later to see that the dried painted surface is in fact perfectly covered with the green paint. A masterful job.
Since there isn't anything assigned by the teacher and she isn't doing any more presentations, the other students pick up newspapers or magazines and start reading. They are clearly bored.
I, on the other hand, try to keep looking busy on classroom stuff, but I'm just making stuff up and don't really have a plan other than looking busy. As I do this, I realize -- not for the first time -- that I don't really belong in this class. I don't fit. But I really wish I did. If I don't fit here, is there any place any where that I might fit?
I walk over to a very utilitarian-looking table which is just four legs, a top surface of unfinished plywood and a second level of the same material underneath -- maybe halfway between the top surface (which has a few unidentifiable things on it) and the floor. On this second level is an aluminum tray maybe fourteen inches by eighteen inches with sides maybe an inch or so all the way around. On this tray is the face of a gorilla. I can't tell whether it is a carved piece of wood or a mask or actually the face of a gorilla which somehow has been removed and placed on the tray. As I look at it, the tray seems to rotate slowly, spinning on the plywood surface, and/or moving slightly from side to side. I'm amazed and wondering what this thing is. I think I wouldn't be surprised if it started moving its eyes and mouth...
I had been bent over somewhat to get a closer look at the gorilla face, but now I stand up straight and start looking around for someone to explain what this thing on the tray truly is. As I turn around, I see Henry Kissinger standing behind me. He's been watching me and seems to understand my curiosity about the face. I don't have to say much or anything before he launches into an explanation. I can tell by the way he's getting into his "speech" that what he says will be somewhat lengthy and unarguably correct -- but it won't help in the least in understanding what that face really is.
I look back at the lower level of the table, but the face has disappeared.
I wake up.
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