A season of catastrophe

I am visiting Chicago. The plan is to rendezvous with my sister (who lives there) at a museum or restaurant or some other attraction.

At first I am driving a car: cramped, one-lane, one-way city streets. I am crossing an intersection, and just as I reach the far side traffic is stopped up ahead. After some confusion it comes out that a cop has been stabbed and killed on this block, and traffic is stopped completely for the crime scene. Continue reading %s


In a resort — possibly in Europe — with my family and some family friends. Beautiful grounds, a small valley, with water at the bottom, winding paths and patios for dining.

We are seated indoors at the restaurant. The atmosphere is nice, almost fancy, but one of the walls is swarming with millipedes and other bugs. Continue reading %s

Fat Guy in the Sky

Touring Japan in a bus, 2 buses altogether. Man falls from a great height, with no buildings nearby and no planes overhead. He’s a dumpy white guy, somewhat like Chris Farley, and he hits the ground with a splat of blood. He opens his eyes and talks. Continue reading %s

The Emissary

I’m near the intersection of Houston and Broadway, in New York City, busy mid day. People everywhere. In the road I notice a strange little woman, naked, with bluish skin. She is maybe 4 feet tall but muscular. I may have noticed some tattoos on her upper body, some sort of tribal mark. Her head is shaved or bald, with small teeth, and tiny fangs for canines. She is crouched over a road-flattened pigeon, feasting. Like an alert animal, she looks up frequently, assessing her surroundings. Continue reading %s

Two Numinous Spaces

Space 1: I am walking down an alley reminiscent of certain streets in Soho: cobblestones, dirty sidewalks, tall, heavy warehouses. It seems I am here to meet up with someone for the purpose of exchanging goods or information; I can’t recall. The deal apparently done, I am walking, with no particular agenda. A large, open doorway catches my attention. The interior seems devoid of people, and unusually intricate for this industrial area. I look around to see if I am observed, and enter. Continue reading %s

The Carpenters Spread The Message of Love

I am in a crowded train station somewhere in India. A little girl wearing a lime green T-shirt wants to trade her shirt for my red one. She likes red better, I like green better. She says that I should take mine off, and she will go to the bathroom to change. Seconds later, I realize the scam. Shirtless and embarassed in India, I run through the station and finally find her, protected by two evil-looking Europeans who run the shirt-stealing business. Continue reading %s

Lost and Found at the Movies

I went to see a movie with some friends. There were friends from Louisville as well as some folks I knew from the Net. Arriving at the theater, we found ourselves at the back of the building, and thinking we were late, entered through a service door. This put us in the ‘backstage’ area, which consisted of offices and supply rooms. Continue reading %s

Plane Crash in TV Land

The dream began as I was driving on an access road near the interstate, listening to the radio. I was listening to my favorite morning show, and they were telling of an airplane disaster at the local airstrip — apparently there was an explosion that began with a spark of static electricity, and LOTS of people died (even though it is a tiny airport). Continue reading %s

The Brotherhood of the Dark Revolution

There is a cabal of young men, adolescent, calling themselves “The Brotherhood of the Dark Revolution.” Their hair is cut short, their faces are smooth; their robes are white, and tinted rose. It seems they have come together in anticipation of what they call the Dark Revolution. This is an event of apocalyptic proportions, in which the Earth is covered in darkness following a great burning. Though their role in this catastrophe is unclear to me, it seems that through some mysterious transmutation they will achieve immortality and become the dominant — if not the only — survivors of this event. Continue reading %s

The Brass Key

Tonight I dreamt in European cathedral, WWII darkness against old-world immensity. Not much left of it now. A few crumbling buildings, last night’s rain on cobblestone streets. What I do remember is finding a brass key in the gutter outside the chruch, dropped, maybe, by one of the sisters who had just shuffled out for the night. Or was it dropped by enemy troops who had occupied the area? Continue reading %s

Metasurfing Dreamspace

The sequence of the dream is unclear and complex, but a few basic elements emerged. Primary was the sensation — and for part of the dream, the metaphor — of exploring an infinitely varied, yet somehow contained, space. Specific to this feeling, I think, was the contrast between exploration and trespass. Though I entered buildings and encountered other beings, at no time did I feel that I was violating a space in a way that had moral consequences. This was a liberating feeling, but remains a disturbing fact. For I was not simply observing; I was acting upon the environments in which I traveled. Continue reading %s

Vampire in the Monastery

My family and I are driving through a city. It’s dingy and half-abandoned, industrial, like cities I have seen in dreams before. We are actually driving along a single road that passes — seemingly — along the outskirts of the city. Or maybe it is that the whole city is so desolate, there is no center of activity.

It is not completely abandoned, though. There is still a show of commerce here and there, stores and truck traffic. The sun seems to have stuck in a perpetual orange dusk. Continue reading %s

First Encounter With the Dream Sage

I’m walking with a person from work down a suburban-rural road, with lots of vegetation and trees. I don’t know where we’re returning from, but we are passing what in the dream I knew to be my house. The house itself is set back from the road some distance, and we are passing the fenced-in bank of trees and ivy that meets the road at almost eye level. It is night, but somehow not dark.

Sitting on the other side of the fence, nestled in the ivy, is what seems to be an infant boy, wearing a loincloth and focusing intently on something across the road. He’s adorable, and, wondering if he’s been abandoned here, I say (slight baby talk) “Hello!” Continue reading %s