Dreams
more about dreams.
last night, i dreamt i was back in hawai'i, except it wasn't hawai'i. i was in car, with a group of kids and another adult. we were taking them on a field trip to the *unnamed water place*. i knew the unnamed water place well. i had spent a lot of time there. on the way, we were passing an old old friend's house. i couldn't remember his name, or the names of the other two people who lived with him. one was a woman, the other, i couldn't recall. but then, in the bend of the road, i recognized their house by the state of the decrepit house next door. i got out of the van to hug my friend and it came to me that his name was jason. he remembered me slowly. i remembered getting very high with him when i was younger. i remembered garbage in the hall, a party. i remembered a conversation. feelings of time lost.
when i woke, i realized that jason was someone i knew vaguely in high school. perhaps jason was his name. perhaps not. i really cannot recall. i also realized that the place, the unnamed water place, was somewhere i had not been before, and yet was a place that i visited often in my dreams. that it was one of a few places that do not exist, yet i seem to return to in my sleep. one is a place reachable by boat from a summer camp i used to attend, down the river in a raft, under the bluffs. another is in santa cruz, a house in the trees, below the campus but far away, where the dogs run and bark and the air is warm and dry. another is in ann arbor, a street with shops and a tram on a hill. another is the nameless water place; a cool grotto with damp paths and near it, a deep hole. a deep hole for exploring. in one dream i went down into it and was almost lost.
it is strange to realize that these places i return to, these places i remember and recognize, do not exist. i have never been to them.
but thinking of them, i'll climb back into bed. because there is something in those places that i seek. something i need.
~ ~ ~
i am sick.
sick!
and spending a lot of time in bed. so i am thinking about dreams. and i remember two dreams. one was mine. one wasn't.
1) s/he is on the bus. like everyone else on the bus, s/he is wearing a heavy yellow slicker of the sort sailors wear. the bus pulls up to a large open parking lot. the counselor leads everyone off the bus. the tarmac is covered in cheap plastic crap, the kind of stuff you would pull from a plastic chest in your childhood dentist's office. mixed in with the plastic crap are peanuts. the counselor tells us our goal is to collect all the peanuts and hands out satchels for this purpose. we get to work, on our hands and knees, sorting through plastic crap to get the peanuts. it is hot in the yellow slickers but it is not raining. s/he takes the yellow slicker off. it is much easier to collect peanuts without the added weight and bulk of the slicker. if it rains, s/he thinks, s/he can put the slicker on then. soon s/he's filled the satchel with peanuts. s/he looks around at the rest of the people still mucking about on their hands and knees. s/he notices that the pavement they are on is actually the parking lot for a large, beautiful museum. it is quarter to 5:00 and the museum will soon close. the peanuts are dropped. s/he runs into the museum which is laid out in two levels with a large center atrium. each alcove holds a different exhibit: art, nature, love, family, food. each exhibit contains fascinating dioramas and interactive elements. each exhibit has take-away free samples that the viewer can cherish after s/he leaves; faberge eggs, chocolates, seashells. there is no time to see it all. there is no time to experience it all. s/he runs through the museum trying to absorb as much as possible before it closes, but s/he has spent the day wearing a slicker when it wasn't raining, sorting through garbage for peanuts.
2) the observer stands on top of half-dome. a line of people with parachutes walk to the edge and leap off, pulling their ripcords and sailing down to the clearning below. a jumper walks to the edge, turns around, and takes a half-step off the edge. the jumper falls right up close to the face of the cliff, wanting to see the rock, to get as close as possible to it. the jumper moves to conform to the fluctuating surface of the cliff as it rushes past, but catches on an outcropping and spins off madly into the air. when the jumper pulls the ripcord, the chute opens downwards, useless. at the top of the cliff, a rope appears at the observers feet. the observer reaches down and easily holds it, catching the jumper. saving his/her life.
