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.<\/p>\n
Somehow my friends continued on ahead, and I got delayed. The room I was in was fairly large, two stories high, with one huge window overlooking a busy intersection from a couple of stories up. The sunlight slanted in, illuminating paints and boards and brushes and pens and pieces of stage scenery, filing cabinets and drafting tables. The whole thing had a very arts-and-crafts sort of feel to it, which reminded me of my art classes in elementary school. Within the space was a sort of second level, an office against the back wall, reachable by a small flight of stairs, and opening into the rest of the building. There were also entrances leading from the ground level of the room, underneath the office.<\/p>\n
Attempting to find my way to the theater, I walked through a doorway and down a short hall. I heard voices. Peering through an open doorway, I saw a man and woman rehearsing on a small stage as if for a play. Somehow I realized that they were actually rehearsing for one of the movies showing at the theater! It didn’t make any sense, but anyway I was too nervous about lurking around in this office, so I ducked back out the way I came.<\/p>\n
But then I heard footsteps, and quickly climbed up into the elevated office. It was a tiny room, with a few paint cans and brushes, and a window that overlooked the rest of the room and the street outside. To my dismay, the footsteps came straight to where I was standing. A busy-looking woman my age rounded the corner into the room, and seemed only mildly startled to see me. I apologized and explained that I’d gotten a little lost in here. I noted what a neat space it was, and how enchanted I would have been as a child to be in here. She directed me through a door that would supposedly lead me to the theater, and I thanked her.<\/p>\n
As I stepped through the doorway, I entered a kind of space which I often encounter in the dream world. It is a network of passageways, portals, chutes, stairs, and ledges. There are sometimes dead-ends and cul-de-sacs, but more often one chamber leads to another, and so on, opening up endlessly to my exploration. Each such space I dream of has a particular character, or ‘texture’, which is generally consistent with the rest of the dream. In this case, the space was composed of wood-paneled stairs and hallways, wooden doors with brass knobs. Everything was polished and slightly muted, as wood rooms are, and the floors creaked slightly underfoot.<\/p>\n
I was not in the space for long, and can remember only a few features. There were two stairways, one immediately beneath the other. The top one led to a little wooden door, which was locked, and the lower one dead-ended in a wooden railing. This double stair was in the middle of a room, which had another, single stairway on the right side, and hallways leading off beyond the staircases. It seems there were more rooms before and after this, but I don’t recall.<\/p>\n
Soon I emerged and found my friends, who were having a picnic! Apparently, the movie didn’t start for another half hour, and everyone was hanging out eating in what appeared to be a backyard patio. There was still plenty of food left, so I went into the kitchen, washed off a plate and a glass, and helped myself. (The potato salad was particularly yummy.) While I was washing, one of the net.friends, an intense woman with wavy blond hair and glasses, was talking about shamanic brews. She said something like, “Yeah, I’ve tried ayahuasca<\/i>, but what really interests me is aya_____<\/i>.” (I can’t remember the word she used, something like ‘ayawhopo<\/i>‘ maybe.) “That’s where they basically mix everything together!” (Implying that it was particularly potent, maybe ayahuasca<\/a><\/i> with a psilocybin admixture<\/a>.)<\/p>\n As we were sitting around, I was struck with a sort of D\u00e9j\u00e0 vu<\/i>. Something about this scene, the people and the sunlight, reminded me of a movie. No — it reminded me of another dream. The strange thing was, I couldn’t remember ever having actually had that dream! Was I remembering a dream, or dreaming a memory? In retrospect, I think that I was remembering a fragment of a dream I had had earlier in the night. It had something to do with a group of people, hanging from the edge of a cliff. Someone had a knife… Just an impression, nothing more.<\/p>\n That was it, really. I never did get to see the movie, I think, but a picnic with friends isn’t half bad. Potato salad, anyone? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cluespace"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=214"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3682,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214\/revisions\/3682"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.abrupt.org\/abruptlog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}