I had this dream a couple of days ago, the first morning I was back in california, and it was very vivid and intense and happy, left me feeling positive and peaceful. I'm a bit reluctant to post this for a couple of reasons, mainly because it's sort of dirty and I think I generally tend to be a bit modest if not prudish about sexuality in public, but I'm gonna embrace my spontaneity and exhibitionistic side for the moment so please bare with me (PUN!).
I am hanging out with my new boyfriend, GD (who I went to high school with but was never romantically interested in), and I am super happy and content because things are new and exciting but also comfortable and just feel right. we are kissing, and he starts kissing my neck and my ear and it feels really good. he has to leave for work or something but I'm not sad, I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. he leaves, and I'm still thinking about being with him and kissing and how good it felt, and how much I'm looking forward to being with him again physically because it felt so good. not in a creepy way, but in an excited/flirtatious/challenging/button-pushing way I text him, "I can't wait to fuck you." and I'm excited to see what he'll write back. he writes, "I can't wait to fuck you too, and I know it's love because you've got more personality than Britney." (as in Spears.) which I know means that he wants me because I'm hot AND awesome, and we connect in a great way, and I am elated.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
the art of dreaming/ dead brother/ global warming/ bus ride phone call
recently a friend let me borrow The Art of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda which I've been reading a lot of these past couple days and have been trying to refocus some of my energy, as Castaneda suggests, into being able to remember my dreams. I won't get too in depth here because some of what he says is too mind blowing to be read on a blog and not talked about in person, but he writes that every person has a luminous point behind their shoulder blades called an assemblage point and it is from this point that we perceive our universe because it rests on certain filaments of energy--the whole universe is made up of energy. anywho, the other night while falling asleep after reading this book, I was trying in my mind's eye to see my assemblage point, glowing behind my shoulder blades, and I woke up the next morning and remembered at least three of my dreams which is unusual for me. they were all fairly bizarre.
first dream. I'm at home, with my mom, and my younger brother has died (I have no younger sibling in real life). it is the day of the funeral, and we are all dressed in black, milling sadly about the house, trying to keep busy. neighbors keep calling and dropping by to send their condolences. my mom is a mess, understandably, because my brother was a little kid who never got a chance. at one point I am uncontrollably weeping, feeling such a great sense of loss. this wakes me up but I roll over and fall back asleep.
second dream. my dad and I are going to an amusement park in oregon! I'm excited and surprised because I didn't think they had any amusement parks in oregon. we get there and are walking around, and the sky is this purplish grey color and is filled with a cartoon rainbow with cartoon clouds around it. the sky is being drained of color, sort of like in the rainbow brite movie, and somehow I know it's because of global warming, and I think it's really sad. my dad has a pen that you click on top to get the ball point to come down, and he is clicking it in and out. somehow in my dream I equate this with how aerosol hairspray was damaging to the ozone, and tell my dad to stop clicking the pen because he's clearly being reckless and causing global warming to get worse. (this is interesting to me because my dad is pretty bad about anything environmental in real life--recycling, conserving electricity/water/gas, etc.) there are two little kids around us, playing, who are both little kids and ponies, and I understand that they are magical creatures, sort of like forest nymphs. that's all I remember.
third dream. my friend arne and I are waiting for the bus. he has exact change, and I become conscious in my dream of real life and how I don't have exact change, and the bus is almost here and I don't have my bus pass out and I get nervous that I'll hold everybody up by not being ready. arne and I get on the bus, and the driver lets me on regardless of my lack of fare. the weird thing is, the driver is not at the front of the bus, but is driving from the left side, looking straight out of the window but somehow driving the bus forward, to her right. arne and I sit down, and I am leaning forward, totally entranced by looking out the window. we are driving up the coast and it looks like california: deep blue, glimmering ocean for miles and I get caught up in my thoughts. music is playing in the background, and arne has a black, cordless phone with him and starts hitting buttons on it and is playing along with the music, putting the phone up to my ear so I can hear. he's really into what he's doing, and I'm listening, but also focusing all of my attention out the window at the sea but sort of humoring him at the same time.
all of my dreams that morning felt really vivid and intense, maybe because I intended them to, but I find that anytime I talk about/think about/exercise the dream part of my brain, I'm able to remember more of my dreams. interesting.
first dream. I'm at home, with my mom, and my younger brother has died (I have no younger sibling in real life). it is the day of the funeral, and we are all dressed in black, milling sadly about the house, trying to keep busy. neighbors keep calling and dropping by to send their condolences. my mom is a mess, understandably, because my brother was a little kid who never got a chance. at one point I am uncontrollably weeping, feeling such a great sense of loss. this wakes me up but I roll over and fall back asleep.
second dream. my dad and I are going to an amusement park in oregon! I'm excited and surprised because I didn't think they had any amusement parks in oregon. we get there and are walking around, and the sky is this purplish grey color and is filled with a cartoon rainbow with cartoon clouds around it. the sky is being drained of color, sort of like in the rainbow brite movie, and somehow I know it's because of global warming, and I think it's really sad. my dad has a pen that you click on top to get the ball point to come down, and he is clicking it in and out. somehow in my dream I equate this with how aerosol hairspray was damaging to the ozone, and tell my dad to stop clicking the pen because he's clearly being reckless and causing global warming to get worse. (this is interesting to me because my dad is pretty bad about anything environmental in real life--recycling, conserving electricity/water/gas, etc.) there are two little kids around us, playing, who are both little kids and ponies, and I understand that they are magical creatures, sort of like forest nymphs. that's all I remember.
third dream. my friend arne and I are waiting for the bus. he has exact change, and I become conscious in my dream of real life and how I don't have exact change, and the bus is almost here and I don't have my bus pass out and I get nervous that I'll hold everybody up by not being ready. arne and I get on the bus, and the driver lets me on regardless of my lack of fare. the weird thing is, the driver is not at the front of the bus, but is driving from the left side, looking straight out of the window but somehow driving the bus forward, to her right. arne and I sit down, and I am leaning forward, totally entranced by looking out the window. we are driving up the coast and it looks like california: deep blue, glimmering ocean for miles and I get caught up in my thoughts. music is playing in the background, and arne has a black, cordless phone with him and starts hitting buttons on it and is playing along with the music, putting the phone up to my ear so I can hear. he's really into what he's doing, and I'm listening, but also focusing all of my attention out the window at the sea but sort of humoring him at the same time.
all of my dreams that morning felt really vivid and intense, maybe because I intended them to, but I find that anytime I talk about/think about/exercise the dream part of my brain, I'm able to remember more of my dreams. interesting.
Beverly Hills hair salon freak out!
this morning I had this dream which on the surface seems pretty nonsensical and mostly like brain vomit, but it's pretty entertaining nonetheless...
my mom and are going to her habitual hair salon to get my hair cut, (which is a pretty regular occurrence in real life about once a year) and she is sitting down, waiting, while I walk over to the haircutting station. her usual stylist, who in the dream is a woman from her church in california, says she is too tired to cut my hair and that she's gonna sit this one out. her son (who I don't know in real life) comes up and says he's going to take over, and that he is just as competent as his mom. he starts showing me this shelf of beauty products, creams, hair lotions and what not, and I'm just standing there, listening to him drone on and on about products I couldn't care less about, waiting for him to finish because I figure he's gonna keep talking anyways so why not let him get through his shpeel. at some point I decide he's too trendy, too superficial and concerned with fashion and not function, and that he is not a trustworthy person to handle my locks. he tries to sit me down in the chair and asks me how much I want cut, which isn't very much because I'm trying to grow my hair out (which has been true for years). he comments about how all the dead ends are going to have to come off, but doesn't specify a precise length which worries me, and I get very agitated and afraid and say, no, I don't trust you, you're not touching my hair! I start shouting at him, throwing things like cotton balls and towels, and running around the salon causing a ruckus. my mom sits in the chair, embarrassed that I am causing such a scene, and in Beverly Hills too. eventually my mom and I run out of the salon, the front of which is now on a waterfront, and we hop in a small two person boat to make our getaway. I'm sitting in the rear, steering with a handle that should be attached to the boat but isn't, and because I've never steered a boat in real life I don't think my brain quite knew in the dream how that was supposed to look. all I could come up with was a wooden stick with a propeller on the end, but I put that in the water and somehow we started to move. we went through what looked like ice caverns and the water was a brilliant blue color. eventually we came to a wide open cavern that was a hidden warehouse for some company and they were just getting a shipment of something in. the warehouse workers were really surprised to see us there and wondered where we came from. we were talking, and then I woke up.
a lot of this dream has to do with little moments throughout the past couple of days, like talking about haircuts and trying to refocus my energy from fashion to function... and I think the rejection of Beverly Hills has a lot to do with re-embracing my punk roots and also the fact that I was in california recently and nothing felt quite right.
my mom and are going to her habitual hair salon to get my hair cut, (which is a pretty regular occurrence in real life about once a year) and she is sitting down, waiting, while I walk over to the haircutting station. her usual stylist, who in the dream is a woman from her church in california, says she is too tired to cut my hair and that she's gonna sit this one out. her son (who I don't know in real life) comes up and says he's going to take over, and that he is just as competent as his mom. he starts showing me this shelf of beauty products, creams, hair lotions and what not, and I'm just standing there, listening to him drone on and on about products I couldn't care less about, waiting for him to finish because I figure he's gonna keep talking anyways so why not let him get through his shpeel. at some point I decide he's too trendy, too superficial and concerned with fashion and not function, and that he is not a trustworthy person to handle my locks. he tries to sit me down in the chair and asks me how much I want cut, which isn't very much because I'm trying to grow my hair out (which has been true for years). he comments about how all the dead ends are going to have to come off, but doesn't specify a precise length which worries me, and I get very agitated and afraid and say, no, I don't trust you, you're not touching my hair! I start shouting at him, throwing things like cotton balls and towels, and running around the salon causing a ruckus. my mom sits in the chair, embarrassed that I am causing such a scene, and in Beverly Hills too. eventually my mom and I run out of the salon, the front of which is now on a waterfront, and we hop in a small two person boat to make our getaway. I'm sitting in the rear, steering with a handle that should be attached to the boat but isn't, and because I've never steered a boat in real life I don't think my brain quite knew in the dream how that was supposed to look. all I could come up with was a wooden stick with a propeller on the end, but I put that in the water and somehow we started to move. we went through what looked like ice caverns and the water was a brilliant blue color. eventually we came to a wide open cavern that was a hidden warehouse for some company and they were just getting a shipment of something in. the warehouse workers were really surprised to see us there and wondered where we came from. we were talking, and then I woke up.
a lot of this dream has to do with little moments throughout the past couple of days, like talking about haircuts and trying to refocus my energy from fashion to function... and I think the rejection of Beverly Hills has a lot to do with re-embracing my punk roots and also the fact that I was in california recently and nothing felt quite right.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
pleasant dreams: cat power & oval communication
an ol' high school friend of mine, A, posted up a myspace bulletin for his poetry/photo blog. i hadn't seen or talked to him in a bazillion years. obviously, we'd gone through changes like anyone else after a bazillion years, so i was surprised to see him still writing poems as he did in high school. i dropped him a line saying i was glad he was still writing poetry, because he had always been an excellent and interesting poet in my eyes. then i had an afternoon nap and dreamt this little bit. in front of me is a square-shaped, dark orange-reddish colored blank notepad. A sends me a reply to my waking life message that appears in black ink on this notepad, functioning akin to instant messenger or to the diary of Tom Riddle in Harry Potter: the Chamber of Secrets (without disappearing ink, just appearing ink). I reply, feeling very happy with how pleasant and easy our communication is. Two filled-in, odd-shaped ovals appear on the notepad. For a milisecond, I am confused, but then very naturally reply back with two solid black ovals and one empty oval, tagging on appreciatively that, "You are the only person I can communicate with ovals to."
I don't know if the oval shape itself is important in terms of dream symbols, but in the dialogue it is meant to symbolize a level of unusual, internal communication.
Another dream I had was about Cat Power. In the dream, she's talking about her artistic process to some sort of general audience, and I'm watching it like a youtube video and thinking, "A lot of her approach or interests with music resonate with my interests" (though mine are obviously not manifested in the least to the degree hers is). The waking life reality is that I've yet to hear or read Chan Marshall articulate her process in detail. But apparently, in my dream she articulates everything clearly that I would like to say for my own goals, interests or vision with music. When I wake up, I feel assured...
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