The hardest part of last night's dream set was trying to get Collin to not buy pot from a couple of undercover cops. The opportunity arose because he was talking about how he was still sober and hadn't had any dope in a long time even though his sponsor told him that pot is not the same as other drugs and some people will let you make an exception for it. Hearing this the two guys ahead of us on the street immediately started trying to sell him this great pot that they had. Collin was totally taken in, but I could see they were cops. Blergh.
In other dream news I went to a restaurant with my folks that had great food, but there was a long wait. They also published a magazine cover (not a magazine, just the cover) which seemed dumb. I spent what seemed like 45 minuted trying to roll my poster-sized sheet of paper into a tube. Maddening.
Finally the food came, but I wasn't enjoying it much because we had people waiting on us somewhere else and this was supposed to have been a quick stop but clearly hours had passed. The food involved a revolutionary new use of fried plantains as some super-yum substance that made everything 1 million times better. This is stupid as I have had fried plantains and they are dry and kind of tasteless.
The seating area of the restaurant was sometimes an unending labyrinth in the basement that I could not find my way around without the assistance of various 6-year-old hostesses who would chide me for not doing things properly. I would leave with one of them in search of something and we would traipse around and I would end up back at the ever-growing table where people kept joining my parents for more fried plantain-laden food.
The people we were supposed to be meeting was a family that I had been traveling with in Europe. They had me and one child and to 'handle' us they had hired a maid, a nanny, and a tour guide. The tour guide kept making us do really complex activities like learning to tango at a lesson right in the center of some plaza in Seville. She also made us make our own surfboards out of cardboard, saran wrap and box tape.
I slept late and am still tired.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Shark Suits
Themes from last night: luggage, coffee, public art, dad, sharks, pregnancy, japan, friendship.
I was waiting in a huge line. Three or four people thick. I managed to escape the huge line and realized there were some nice benches and a big waiting area. We were waiting for our luggage. It was a large room with four luggage carousels as well as a flat luggage moving belt surrounding the room. And they were all connected.
The bell rang and our luggage started coming and everyone rushed to be near the spot where the bags come out. I went to another carousel figuring the bags would come to my spot eventually. I had a nice moment of mentally flying all around the luggage path - up one carousel, once around and then back down where it was passed to the next carousel. Around and down and up and around and down. And so on until it reached the outer path that circled the room.
Then I gave up on the luggage. What is that about - in dreams I search and search for things or wait forever, only to give up and realize that it's stupid or pointless. I'm glad I didn't have to spend the rest of my dream dragging luggage around, but why this sense of critical importance that just evaporates?
Next stop - wandering around a museum with my dad looking for a coffee shop. I was excited about getting a discount on the coffee.
And then, waiting for friends outside, walking through some big neighborhood. I found the friends (at times they were you and Ralph.) We were walking, driving, parking when I recognized the lines on the road as part of an art installation that we had all been discussing earlier. Ralph had a picture of it in his art book.
Even in the dream I know it was kind of a dumb project, but I kept defending it and trying to make it sound cool. This guy had gotten funding from the city to build a number of sidewalks or bike paths that went winding around a stream. But the paths were really short and each ended abruptly. There were four concrete paths with white lines on either side and they would sometimes get ridiculously narrow and other times would curve for no reason and just end. I said that he was planning to make them all connect so they would be a usable path. You said "why doesn't he just start the path in one place and build it until it's done, why build it in separate sections?" I knew that he wasn't planning on connecting them and that you would recognize that as dumb so I kept insisting that it would make sense when it was all connected.
You said - "How is that different from a normal bike path?"
Even in my dreams you bring the logic.
The point of his project was that the different paths would symbolize our disconnection from nature and it made me mad that I even knew this much about it. You then started asking me about his signs, but at this point you were Japanese and we were in Japan. But with the same dumb art project. Now I am defending the cultural aspects of this dumb art. I don't remember who the artist was, but I didn't really like him personally. He put up signs for a camp ground next to the path. They were the same ones you would see if you were camping and they just said "camp".
Japanese-you said "What sense does that make? For one thing it's in English and for another someone will think this is a place to camp." There was a moment of linguistic fun when I remembered that the word for camping in Japanese is 'kyampin'; and then me explaining to my now not Japanese companion that while the word camping is the same in Japanese and English the word 'camp' doesn't translate.
Ugh.
Next up - SHARK FIGHT!!!!
Finally I escaped that area and was on a boat. There were a group of us engaged in a kind of shark fishing. We were capturing sharks by jumping into their bodies so we could control them. Then we would swim around really fast, get into fights with other sharks (for fun) and then shoot up out of the water and land on the boat deck standing. Then we would jump out the shark's body and it would fall down on deck and we'd go get another one.
Jumping into the shark's body was very cartoon - you had to head in through its mouth in a way where you didn't get eaten. You, Ralph, me and Tim were all having the best time. We were occasionally chased by bigger sharks, but we could easily out-swim them. Shooting out of the water and landing upright on our tail fin was totally exhilarating. Once we were standing on the boat deck we would push our arms out to the sides and that would free us from the shark body. This was not at all messy and didn't seem to hurt the shark.
After a while we decided to see if we could let smaller fish into our own bodies to control us. We weren't sure if it would work but you were OK with it since you had already had a baby and you knew what it was like to have another being inside you.
The end.
I was waiting in a huge line. Three or four people thick. I managed to escape the huge line and realized there were some nice benches and a big waiting area. We were waiting for our luggage. It was a large room with four luggage carousels as well as a flat luggage moving belt surrounding the room. And they were all connected.
The bell rang and our luggage started coming and everyone rushed to be near the spot where the bags come out. I went to another carousel figuring the bags would come to my spot eventually. I had a nice moment of mentally flying all around the luggage path - up one carousel, once around and then back down where it was passed to the next carousel. Around and down and up and around and down. And so on until it reached the outer path that circled the room.Then I gave up on the luggage. What is that about - in dreams I search and search for things or wait forever, only to give up and realize that it's stupid or pointless. I'm glad I didn't have to spend the rest of my dream dragging luggage around, but why this sense of critical importance that just evaporates?
Next stop - wandering around a museum with my dad looking for a coffee shop. I was excited about getting a discount on the coffee.
And then, waiting for friends outside, walking through some big neighborhood. I found the friends (at times they were you and Ralph.) We were walking, driving, parking when I recognized the lines on the road as part of an art installation that we had all been discussing earlier. Ralph had a picture of it in his art book.
Even in the dream I know it was kind of a dumb project, but I kept defending it and trying to make it sound cool. This guy had gotten funding from the city to build a number of sidewalks or bike paths that went winding around a stream. But the paths were really short and each ended abruptly. There were four concrete paths with white lines on either side and they would sometimes get ridiculously narrow and other times would curve for no reason and just end. I said that he was planning to make them all connect so they would be a usable path. You said "why doesn't he just start the path in one place and build it until it's done, why build it in separate sections?" I knew that he wasn't planning on connecting them and that you would recognize that as dumb so I kept insisting that it would make sense when it was all connected.
You said - "How is that different from a normal bike path?"
Even in my dreams you bring the logic.
The point of his project was that the different paths would symbolize our disconnection from nature and it made me mad that I even knew this much about it. You then started asking me about his signs, but at this point you were Japanese and we were in Japan. But with the same dumb art project. Now I am defending the cultural aspects of this dumb art. I don't remember who the artist was, but I didn't really like him personally. He put up signs for a camp ground next to the path. They were the same ones you would see if you were camping and they just said "camp".
Japanese-you said "What sense does that make? For one thing it's in English and for another someone will think this is a place to camp." There was a moment of linguistic fun when I remembered that the word for camping in Japanese is 'kyampin'; and then me explaining to my now not Japanese companion that while the word camping is the same in Japanese and English the word 'camp' doesn't translate.
Ugh.
Next up - SHARK FIGHT!!!!
Finally I escaped that area and was on a boat. There were a group of us engaged in a kind of shark fishing. We were capturing sharks by jumping into their bodies so we could control them. Then we would swim around really fast, get into fights with other sharks (for fun) and then shoot up out of the water and land on the boat deck standing. Then we would jump out the shark's body and it would fall down on deck and we'd go get another one. Jumping into the shark's body was very cartoon - you had to head in through its mouth in a way where you didn't get eaten. You, Ralph, me and Tim were all having the best time. We were occasionally chased by bigger sharks, but we could easily out-swim them. Shooting out of the water and landing upright on our tail fin was totally exhilarating. Once we were standing on the boat deck we would push our arms out to the sides and that would free us from the shark body. This was not at all messy and didn't seem to hurt the shark.
After a while we decided to see if we could let smaller fish into our own bodies to control us. We weren't sure if it would work but you were OK with it since you had already had a baby and you knew what it was like to have another being inside you.
The end.
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