Abrupt

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. » Read the rest of this entry «

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. » Read the rest of this entry «

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!” » Read the rest of this entry «