Monthly Archives: May 2008

large owl

One part of last night’s dreams was that, at home in NH, a couple of times, I was in or around the backyard and saw a really large owl circling in the sky. It was so large that at one point, while approaching the north gate by the peach tree, I was slightly worried that it was going to think I was viable prey. It was very late afternoon, fresh and clear, maybe even twilight, but at any rate the sky was very blue. Later, still during early twilight, looking from inside the kitchen out to the western sky, I saw the owl, revealed as a barn owl, larger than ever, sitting on a cloud about the same size as it. I interrupted the dinner conversation to note it. Eventually the owl turned out to be a cloud formation itself, but of a smoother, more precise, denser consistency, seemingly, than the cloud it was “sitting” on, which brought us to the conclusion that something possibly nefarious was going on. The owl imagery is undoubtedly because I was just captioning some owl pictures right before bed last night.

snow fog

Snippet from a nap: I was riding with my parents in the Saab down Pattison/Luce Rd (which I mistakenly thought of as Stratton/Blair) toward Williamstown on a midmorning (the scene started before this, I know, but I’ve forgotten that part of it), and the roadsides were banked with snow, though there was maybe some ground showing too, and we got into a thick yet partially transparent custard-colored fog in the final turn down through the farm, and I made some sort of “at least…” comment about the fog or the snow, like maybe that it made the driving partially easier somehow. Also I was thinking “Crap! I forgot to pack my skis — although I would have had to check them on the plane,” rather than taking everything carryon, even though it wasn’t clear why I would have flown to Williamstown from NH.

Another scene was at a table that seemed to be sitting in the road at the north end of the driveway at home, Joe was talking about his graduate program with Colin, some WU folk, and me. People were pretty excited about it, though there was also some talk about a similar program in Cleveland that might successfully compete in that arena.

sleet running

Two scenes remembered:

  • I was running along a road at night with a bunch of other people, everybody going at different paces; the road was southbound and curved along to the left, and there were houses close up against its sidewalks. It was wintry and sleeting. There seemed to be illumination from headlights of ongoing cars, but I don’t remember noticing the cars themselves. One girl was complaining stridently about running in that kind of weather, while out of her earshot, other people were saying she should just get over it. I was thinking she was expending more calories complaining than running.
  • That was early on in the night. Soon before getting up for the morning, I dreamt that I was on the WU campus, although it was much different from IRL — there were large athletic fields, as big as agricultural fields, with a big grassy slope up to a building to the southeast, for one thing. It was an overcast day, and I was watching, from up on that slope, a guy on the field doing a sort of bungee-jumping thing near the low fence at the edge of the field, except kind of in reverse — he seemed to be wearing a parachute that stayed high aloft, and when he jumped he would fly way up into the air and then land again sharply — so the parachute seemed to be pulling him upward, like skyhooks. Also next to the fence were recycling bins and some people noticed there were perishables in them and I took those out to put in my compost bin.

dove generation

Right now I’m cutting into my sleep for the upcoming night, but I forgot to update this for a while today. Last night one scene (or act, I guess) was set in what seemed like a rest stop on a rural, boreal east-west highway — a driveway area with evergreen woods around it. Some sort of action that I vaguely remember as related to UPS packaging products (like cardboard tubes), that I did, resulted in the generation of two doves, one of them bald (like Borne in her unfortunate times), which sat in the tree branches there (in a semi-open area next to the rest stop, on the west edge). This did not seem screwy. There were some cares that maybe the night would be too cold for the doves, but it only got down to 50 degrees, so I wasn’t too concerned, and indeed they were fine. I think I generated another pair, perhaps unintentionally, and then was somewhat vexed when I generated two further pairs (by making a double order of cardboard tubes or whatever the cause was).

just a minor threat

Lots of rememberment so I gotta write it all down. First, I think I might have dreamt about oil painting technique since I was reading up on it just before I went to bed, and I have a sort of memory of waking up during the night and thinking that the dreams had been influenced by the reading. If that did happen, I remember the stuff thereafter better in any case.

Next scene I recall was at Merrill’s Four Corners in Hancock, which I know because of the multiplicity of farmhouses and barns on the eastbound road. They were all painted deep red, which seemed a change from what I remembered of them. The cleared field area was much smaller than RL, particularly on the southeast side. It was early afternoon. On the southbound road, where I was, there was another farmhouse (white, I think) adjacent, and I was talking with some WU classmates outside of it on the road. There was some kind of party, maybe a birthday party, happening in the house, and when we heard noise from one of the places on the eastbound road we discovered that another party was happening there, and there was a third party happening at a place visible to the northwest.

Sometime after that I was in a low-ceiling white room of a house with lots of north windows and with a bunch of people inside, including Ian MacKaye, who was answering questions and had maybe played us a song that he said was from his earliest musical days, before Minor Threat. I asked him a couple of times whether Faith had played the song but he never seemed to hear me. (Perhaps this is because, as I am rediscovering from AMG, his first band was the Teen Idles, and the Faith was his brother’s band, with the other members of which Ian later formed Embrace. I’m glad my dreaming brain wasn’t completely off base in thinking of Faith in connection to Ian MacKaye.) Meanwhile, the room sort of had become the south edge of a large grassy plaza on a sunny midmorning; the space was seemingly like the central area of a fort, with galleries ringing it and some trees around (fairly clearly based on RL Fort Warren on Georges Island in Boston Harbor). I walked northwest toward an exit from the plaza with some other people, maybe my parents, when I got a call from Tomio that there was a get-together nearby. I ended up seemingly back in the original white room, but this time there were a bunch of Williams friends there, and more of them were outside the house on the west side, where there was a driveway.

After that I was with a bunch of people in a fairly large room, the size of a classroom, say, with a tall ceiling, and I think it was dark outside, and there was a band that played a concert on a portable stage in the middle of the room (well, somewhat to the southeast of the middle — by “middle” I mean not on the edge) that consisted of Ian MacKaye again and a number of people I didn’t recognize, some of whom had a more post-grungey goatee-and-long-hair look. I don’t remember the details of the music much but I think it was pretty much hardcore punk, and I remember being frustrated that the rest of the audience was just kind of standing there while I really wanted to rock out (part of it was that I didn’t want Ian and the rest of the band to think we were ungrateful or unreceptive). After their set we hiked up to the northeast end of the room (its floor had become a hilly lawn, and it was perhaps outside now) where there was a setup that seemed to be two electric pianos, situated perpendicularly with the bench for one against the left side of the other bench, rather like Blondie and Dagwood’s bizarre chair arrangement. Two of the band members, a woman and a man, who were more indie-band-looking than the post-grungers (the guy had emo glasses), sat down at the benches and proceeded to play some much more ambient music, sometimes with a motorik-like eighth-note rhythm — my brain was definitely trying to inject various facets of Neu! — eventually I think it was just the woman playing. The light had changed to mid-morning sunlight — it was shaded by trees right there, but back down near the original stage, sunlight was shining on the ground and reflecting up toward the piano area. I think this space was based on my RL first-grade classroom, what with the light coming from the south and west. By the end of what I remember of the scene, however, it had turned back to night, and there was a single spotlight, attached to the northeast wall corner above, illuminating the piano area.

P.S. I now recall that a few days ago part of a dream was that I was holding a papaya-like fruit called a “guam.” I remember it because of just now seeing Guam in a list of map choices on the National Weather Service site.

rice cooking

I was at home in NH cooking some rice (a similarity to RL) as well as some vegetables and meat too, I think, in the late afternoon, and ended up needing some more rice, so I added extra rice to the original rice, which was now lobster-colored, and cooked it till it was just the right consistency. There were other things happening around the same time of an academically-related nature, I think, but the memory thereof has grown vague.


An evening nap produced a visually fascinating dream, which I have partially forgotten, but there are still pieces that remain. I was on a plane with my studiomates and we had to accomplish a number of feats in order to escape some sort of bad consequences, the precise nature of which I’m not certain of. The plane was unusual, first of all in that we were piloting it, and also in that its interior space was generous and open — probably at least 20′ wide and 8′ high — with the cockpit just one area of the room at the front, with a grand view forward, up, and to the sides. Aft of the cockpit the room was much like a typical living room, with house furnishings and curtains on windows. It was late afternoon, moving into twilight as the dream went on, and we were flying eastward, so the low orange sun was coming in from the back windows. There were many large, wide cumulus formations in the sky and one of the things we had to do was fly over four of these formations. We came up to one, Willie piloting the plane, and he pulled the yoke back so that we went almost vertical; everyone was afraid we were going to stall. But we made it through all right. I determined to pilot over the remaining clouds myself. I also volunteered for another (perhaps the only remaining) test, which was (I think — this was somewhat vague) to jump out of the plane with a snowboard and board down the powdery, pillowy slopes below into the valley — I saw this as if it were already happening, in deep twilight with the moon high in the sky. But first there were more clouds to fly over and Willie was almost asleep at the controls, and I was trying to wake him up and take over. At about that time I woke up (forealz) and feverishly tried to get myself mentally in gear to get back to work, which is still not really happening. Oh well.