lillibet: (Default)
This morning, between snoozes, I had a strange dream that felt like several different dreams layered on top of one another.

Cut for those who find other people's dreams tedious )
lillibet: (Default)
I tend to have recurring dreams, or at least dreams that follow the same pattern. For years I dreamed that I was trying to find someone at a party in a complicated house. Then I got married and never had that dream again. Lately (maybe the last six months) I have had a new pattern-dream that I only realized in the waking world when I woke up last night from a nap in the midst of one--only the one last night was significantly different.

Cut because other people's dreams are boring. )
lillibet: (Default)
Within the last week, three of my friends have dreamt of Georgia O'Keefe. Maybe it's the weather or something in the water, perhaps she's a common image of strong and isolated creativity. Or perhaps her dust has simply reached us at last, blown on the wind from New Mexico, breathed in with the smell of leaves and the tang of fall to lodge in our brains and dance around our skulls. None of these dreams have been pleasant ones--she's not a comforting figure, with her bones and her sexual flowers and her uncompromising stare. But I am jealous of the attention, wanting to know what she might paint into my night.

Georgia, I'm waiting.
lillibet: (Default)
Within the last week, three of my friends have dreamt of Georgia O'Keefe. Maybe it's the weather or something in the water, perhaps she's a common image of strong and isolated creativity. Or perhaps her dust has simply reached us at last, blown on the wind from New Mexico, breathed in with the smell of leaves and the tang of fall to lodge in our brains and dance around our skulls. None of these dreams have been pleasant ones--she's not a comforting figure, with her bones and her sexual flowers and her uncompromising stare. But I am jealous of the attention, wanting to know what she might paint into my night.

Georgia, I'm waiting.
lillibet: (Default)
The only thing I like about hot weather is the zany dreams I have, especially while napping.

Click here if you don't hate reading about other people's wacky dreams. )
lillibet: (Default)
The only thing I like about hot weather is the zany dreams I have, especially while napping.

Click here if you don't hate reading about other people's wacky dreams. )

Dream

Dec. 3rd, 2003 03:21 pm
lillibet: (Default)
Since I'm sick, I took a nap earlier and had a very funky dream. The plot was more coherent than usual, I noticed as I woke up, but the details have largely disappeared at this point.

Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.

Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.

Dream

Dec. 3rd, 2003 03:21 pm
lillibet: (Default)
Since I'm sick, I took a nap earlier and had a very funky dream. The plot was more coherent than usual, I noticed as I woke up, but the details have largely disappeared at this point.

Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.

Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.

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