The Artist

It is rare that I have a dream that can be turned into a book or movie. This morning I had one of those. I dreamed I was in love with a handsome man who was older than me. I was about sixteen. Unfortunately, he was in love with my older sister and she was on drugs.  I went into the living room and they were having a fight. He caught her holding a big bottle of pills after she told him she had quit.  He grabbed the pills and set them on the end table. I was afraid they would wake up my father and he would come running in and find the pills too, so I grabbed the bottle when they weren't looking and hid it in the couch cushions. A while later I was sitting on the couch next to him.  I looked into his eyes and said, "You know I love you." And he sighed and said, "Yes I know."  Now I was the good sister who didn't do drugs.  And he chose her. My heart ached.

Fast forward to a night in an alley.  Somehow we were all working in an industrial area at night helping a restaurant pack things for shipping. And that handsome guy was there in the alley. So we were joking around and he turned and walked down the side of the building and I was following.  Then I stopped and walked away, expecting him to follow me back.  And I heard male footsteps, so I turned around and smiled, but it wasn't him at all.  Just a man who looked at me funny and turned and walked away. I yelled out, "Sorry I thought you were someone else." So I raced down the side of the building in the dark and 2 men are running towards me. They start to scale the wall. I hear more men coming.  I look at the man on the wall and he says, "What did you see." I yell back, "I didn't see anything."  He yells, "Get out of here." And I did.

Eventually I went around the other end of the industrial park and into the dark alley behind the buildings, searching for a place to hide if I had to. My love was nowhere to be found. I turned to go and a homeless guy walked by.  "Find anything?" he said.  "Nothing." I said.  "But good luck."

Years passed. I was still working in the industrial park.  Someone yelled out that someone at the job had something to give us, so my sister and I walked over. I thought the woman was holding two awards, but they were 3 dimensional books that came for us.  And they were the art of the guy we were both in love with. I was happy because it proved he was still alive. Somehow he'd made it big after that night he had disappeared.

Kind of a bitter sweet ending don't you think?

F.Z. Harper @2014

A Sinister Dream

Dream

Sometimes when I oversleep I have these sinister dreams.
This morning my dream started out pleasantly, as they often do.
I was out in my backyard tending to my garden. I was in a good mood and feeling quite lovely. Then I heard someone coming through the house. A voice inside me said, “That’s not who you think it is, hide.” And I mentally argued back, “That’s ridiculous, who else could it be.”

Next thing I know this short Hispanic woman dragging a young child bursts into my back yard. I’m startled so I yell out, “Who are you? What are you doing in my yard? How did you get in?”

She says in broken English that the front door was unlocked. I say it wasn’t unlocked. I’m angry. In real life I have brick walls surrounding my yard, but in the dream there is just a redwood fence between me and the next house. Somehow she gets behind me and manages to pull some boards loose and squeeze into the next yard pulling the kid behind her. But for now they are trapped by the neighbor’s fence. So I figure I’ll call the police.
So I run into the house and grab the phone but it’s dead. So I grab my cell phone.

I dial 911 and I hear two voices on the line. One is the faint voice of my mother (who is dead in real life) and the voice of a man. With everyone talking at once I can’t understand anyone. I’m not even sure they can hear me. So I hang up and try again. Again I hear two voices. My mom’s is even fainter, but the man’s voice sounds like a sinister person, not like the police at all, so I hang up.

Part 2
In the next part of the dream I am on the front porch with my 10 year old daughter. We are leaving to find a safe place. I am locking the door. Then I notice a bag of belongings on the porch. Thinking they must belong to the woman that broke in, I unlock the door again to toss the bag inside and save it for the police. But when I swing the door inward, I can see a hole where someone broke through to undo the dead bolt and door lock, and then a wooden panel from the center of the door falls out, leaving a big hole, as if someone had sawn around it. Uncertain as to how to cover the hole before we leave, I step back inside while my daughter waits on the porch. I glance around for some wood to cover the hole. Realizing my mistake I yank open the front door and yell at my daughter to get inside. But she is already gone.

Frantically I glance around and spot that woman again. I grab her by the fabric of her neckline. I am yelling in her face, ‘Where is my daughter.” She said , “_______ had her.” (Unfortunately I can’t remember the name now.So I yell, “Show me where he is.”
She takes me to a nearby back yard that looks like someone has been camping in it. Right when we get there, two men come around the corner of the house. One of the men is tied or handcuffed by the wrist to my daughter. I am livid.

We are yelling back and forth. Somehow I grab this cutting tool out of the guy’s hand. I am trying to cut the ties that hold my daughter to the man. I get her free and we start to run. I glance back and see one of them has found a gun. But we run on anyway.

Part 3
I’m in a motel room. I have my daughter with me, but now I have my other daughter too. And she’s just a toddler. We are holed up in this room without any money or food and my youngest daughter asks for a cookie. I see one in our little bag of stuff. A round white cookie so I give it to her.

Then it is night and we are in a yard. I see a police car cruising the neighborhood. We yell and wave until it stops. I’m telling the policewoman the whole story. I show her the weapon. She takes it to study it and puts it in her pocket. “We need that”, I say, “It’s our only protection.” She is clearly not going to give it back. She drives off without doing anything.

Part 4
I am inside my apartment again. I am by the front door. I see someone has pinned a bunch of photos and drawings to it. One says, “Thanks for the chocolate milk.” But the rest are just ugly drawings of me. I can’t remember much of those. And then I finally wake up.

Seek the Light

I just had a very strange and epic dream this morning. I won't tell the whole dream, because it was quite long, but rather the ending.

At the end of the dream, I was wearing brown robes. My hair was long. I was younger and thinner than I am now. I was carrying a stave made of wood. The top had a carved wooden ornament with four lathed spiral finials. The staff was taller than me by about 2 feet. I'll post a photo of a drawing of it. I think inside the ornate top there was a mirror, or a light, or stained glass. As I was holding the staff I was also clutching 3 long sticks of incense.
The world was a crowded place. Many people were meandering around, so I joined the first parade of people that went by. They were shouting out random things to the crowd. They were all dressed in brown too. When no one else was yelling anything I would yell out "Seek the Light."

There was a man marching with us with medium long curly brown hair and kind eyes, so we took to standing somewhat near each other and watching each other. At one point every time I spoke something out loud, he would say the very same thing at the very same time. We both seemed quite amused at this.

Eventually we lost site of each other and the parade meandered away from me and after walking alone a bit I wound up in another parade. It was still light out. I'm still randomly calling out 'Seek the light'. Then I realize the new parade is wandering into a building. Too late I realize they are all funneling into a church service. Knowing that is wrong somehow, I turn to go. In the entryway there are all kinds of rusty statues. One is of Jesus on the cross. That seems really creepy to me, but there was also a sculpture of a bunch of giant forks all welded together at the base. I wondered what that could possibly mean.

As I left the building I soon passed a group of people preaching to the crowd. One man shouted out, "Don't spend money on root canals, spend it on feeding the poor."

I thought what an odd thing to say, for what good is it if you feed the poor only to die of a tooth infection. I could see forgoing pleasure to feed the poor, but you have to take care of your own health first, otherwise you won't live long to help others.

So I walked on. I passed this older man who was standing there in black or dark robes. As I walked up to him my skirt elastic gave out and it fell down. Quite mortified I was trying to pull it back up, though I still had a slip on under it. This man is watching me and says, "What is that you are holding." So I look at the staff and the incense I am clutching.
With the other hand I'm still trying to fix my clothes. At that point I woke up and realized I was trying to pull my blanket back up though I was still covered with the sheet.

The Witch Dream

I had the most amazing dream last night. I was my ideal and perfect self.
I lived in a college town and artistic community. I was dressed in a floor length black lace Victorian gown. And I was a witch. I rarely walked on the ground; I pretty much floated everywhere. And I danced a lot. I would fly up into the air and spin and twirl around. A group of goth college students wandered by and I tried to blend in with them, but they were all younger than me and doing role-playing so I didn't really fit in so I slowed down and they wandered off without me.

I was about 30 years old, and I wasn't overweight. And I was a very happy person.
I didn't have a wand but I carried a magic paintbrush. It was always full of clear liquid and I used it to repair fabric. I wonder if I could have used it to repair cuts and scars.

At one point I ran across a bunch of Christians having a revival of some kind, and one of them, who was a Native American came running over to me to try to convert me. I told him he needed to go back to the teachings of his peoples before Christianity poisoned his mind.

After that I was sitting at a table with friends and I was reading this little boys palms. His hands were black as ebony. He had a very strong head line and heart line and I asked him if he was considering psychology or psychiatry as a career. Because you have to use your head and your heart in a career like that.

And there was a lady in yellow lace that accused me of ripping her dress so I used my magic paintbrush to fix the tear. Only she said she didn't want it fixed with magic and she huffed away.

And there was a group of girls all dressed in fancy clothes and they had a headmistress teaching them manners and they were reciting some essay or something and this one girl just floated into the air. She got yelled at by the headmistress and told to come down and act normal at once, but I just smiled and clapped for her and shouted out,'Well done.'

Much like in real life I was a complete loner and though I kept trying to find an equal or a peer to hang out with, I never did. I helped people where I could, but in the end I was still alone. But I was happy because I was true to myself.