Monthly Archives: July 2010

shore sunset

At the moment all I recall is being in a city like San Diego in the evening, stretching from just before sunset to duskytime; but the water was to the east, and I was with some friends on a sidewalk on a north-south road paralleling the shore but about a block’s width away from it. The sun was setting in the south, maybe a bit southwest. The road sloped down toward the south a little bit. The area between the road and the shore was mostly parklike, but we had come from a compound within it that consisted of a low building with a yard fenced off by a heavy metal fence, the gate of which we were able to use our ID cards to enter, much like at Woodbury IRL. We were walking north on the road from the compound, but I had to turn back to get one of the bags that I’d left in its courtyard. I ran back fast and swiped in to the gate, at which point I had to show the guard who walked around the corner my ID. I ran back north on the road but missed my objective, which was to see the sunset from the slightly higher ground to the north — it had already gotten dusky everywhere.

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skylit garret

Oops, almost forgot to update. The only scene I still remember from last night is being in a well-lit room under a shallow-pitched roof, the room about the size of a living room; it had white walls and ceiling, with I think a low-shag wall-to-wall carpet, and maybe light blue trim around the doors and skylights. There were multiple skylights, not that large, but enough to bring a lot of natural light into the room. The roof ridge ran east-west. There were no windows in the walls except that the east wall had a window into another part of the building. In the white room seemed to be more or less the whole Helsinki group, and there were perhaps drawing boards that we were at, so it seemed to be a studio space. Meanwhile, through the window was another studio area, finished mostly with wood, which was being used as an actual architecture office. There was some communication between us and them, and perhaps some hijinx, I forget.

I also remember looking through a book of curious maps (surely provoked by checking Strange Maps IRL before bed last night), perhaps while in the studio room. The map I remember best was of North America; superimposed on a mostly normal topographic map of the continent was a line of sun orbs stretching from east to west across the northern US, with the suns varying from totally clear to maybe clouded over, according to the prevailing weather of the regions each sun was on. There was an intersecting line of suns on a north-south line at about the longitude of San Diego; the San Diego sun in particular was clouded, I think (thanks to May gray/June gloom). In addition there seemed to be a depiction of water rushing from a basin in Eastern California out through a channel between the mountains to the Pacific, or maybe vice versa; at any rate it clarified the nature of the nearby suns for me somehow.

sunflowers

A smattering of rather vivid scenes:

  • I was outside the garage at home with my parents on a sunnyish, windy day, when dried-out sunflower heads started raining down, though not in large quantity — more like a sunflower shower.
  • I was driving south at night to a medical complex for a school-mandated physical; it was miles and miles in extent, like the largest industrial development ever, and according to a (possibly mental) map, it took up much of the MA Berkshires, though I seemed to comprehend MA as NH. Different parts of the complex were labeled by number and name, and I kept going by more and more of them, thinking I had missed the one I was supposed to stop at, but luckily I saw the right one in time and took a plunging exit from the elevated highway I’d been driving on down into a labyrinth of buildings. I made it into where I was supposed to go and, I think, saw some classmates there.
  • At a rest stop on bus trip with class, on a morning, I picked up a churro from the floor of the store we were at (main exterior face and gas pumps to the north) and put it back in the right place (there were about six kinds of churros on the churro shelves). I went downstairs, down a dark-brown-paneled stairwell, to the bathroom; the first stretch of the counterclockwise stairs was impinged upon by a sloping plane from the right wall, so that the each stair was narrower than the one before it and the bottom one was only a few inches wide. I came back up at seemingly a whole different time of day and the store was closed, so I just cold took the churro I’d picked up off the floor from its shelf, to eat.
  • I watched a post-sunset twilight outside the cabin in Maine, apparently, and for a while it was pretty mainstream, but near the end of the cloud glow, there came to be volcanic-like, deep violent red and gray towering clouds, so I snapped it with my camera, successfully but with some difficulty.

meals

These are the remembered scenes from last night (there were even more for a while):

  • my dad and I were making a large quantity of sauce in a frying pan, heating it on the range; it contained quite a bit of butter and perhaps broth of some sort; for some reason it had to be transferred from the pan to a smaller pot, after which it overflowed and formed large pieces of crust around the pot.
  • I ate a really delicious meal at a Korean restaurant that I was at with some friends. It was so tasty that I either lucid-dreamed about how it almost seemed real, or actually woke up right after the scene and it seemed almost real. Anyway, I think a scene followed thence where we were riding in a car to Venice Beach after the meal (in the afternoon, sun shining), and one of my friends who didn’t like Korean food and hadn’t eaten much at the restaurant got three cheeseburgers from a street vendor for $4 each.
  • At another point, I went out to a familiar west-facing rocky/sandy shore on an overcast day, and I came upon an outdoor sermon happening there, with a bunch of congregants seated in wooden chairs, right on the beach. Later, in a seemingly adjacent location and time, I entered a restaurant that had on its menu a great deal of build-your-own-pasta options. Examples of some of the dishes on the menu were somehow displayed on the wall, the food staying on the plates even though they were hanging on the wall. One prominent option appeared to use crimini mushrooms as a base rather than any pasta at all. I think I ordered, received, and ate a meal, but the direct memory of it has vanished; the recollection stems from thinking after I woke up that with these multiple meals, I had eaten well in these dreams.

wide train

– I was in an airport, except it was laid out rather more like a school, about three stories high and with one glazed circulation area with ramps where the whole height of the building was within view, and with another more interior stairwell where the intermediate landings were still open to the floors immediately below and above (as they stuck out into the spaces) and from which a couple of times I tried climbing up onto the railing and then onto the floor above (and succeeded the first time, but the second time, going to the top floor, the footing seemed unsafe and I gave up).

– Perhaps in the same scene, I boarded a train in a large station similar to the lower parts of the Berlin Hbf, except the building was open to the north side. The train was at least partially open-air, and it was extremely wide, more like a large ship than a train. I stationed myself up on a bunk at the top level, which was simply open to the air, and wanted to take a nap. The train left the station and curved left, heading toward a southbound bearing, and the sharpness of the curve caused my water bottle to roll off the bunk, bounce down onto a lower deck area, and thence off the train. There was no way to retrieve it, of course, so I woke up in exasperation.

parking garage

From the 21st (night before last): the only thing I remember really clearly is that I was driving a car, a minivan, probably, with several friends/classmates as passengers in a city, possibly Barcelona or somewhere similar, and I parked in a garage, where the car was going to stay for a couple of weeks while we went on a trip. The garage was rather cavern-like, with vaulted openings (actually, it was a bit Gaudí-like in that respect as well); I parked by the first opening to the left side of the entrance, which was a large, translucent window with yellow light shining in. That seemed to be the primary source of light for that level of the garage. Anyway, we went on the trip, or at least things happened in between that I’ve forgotten; when we returned, I was dismayed to discover that I had unwittingly parked in a 45-hour spot, which meant that I had run up an approximately $120 fine, displayed on a ticket on the windshield. I paid it right away online, so that when notified about the fine by a parking agent soon after, I quickly communicated that I’d already paid it.

DJ attempt

There are a number of other scenes that I remembered vividly when I woke up in the middle of the night, but the following is the only one that’s stuck. I either got a phone call or ran into Dan Snaith (Caribou) and he asked me if I could sub in for him at a little DJ gig he had on Wednesday night at a bar in Grand Center, STL. I think a bunch of other things I’ve forgotten happened in the dream, but eventually I realized it was Wednesday evening and I needed to get over to the bar. I rode the Metro to Grand (I had mistakenly thought the bar was in the CWE and had told someone this, but realized my mistake in time) and walked the couple of blocks south to the bar, which was called the Gaslight Station or something similar. It was only 7:30, but it was after dark. The bar was on the northeast corner of an intersection and I think the opaque parts of its outer walls were light blue, but it had large shopfront windows. There were two narrow rooms at the entryway, one of which was lenticular in plan (inside of a curved part of the exterior wall) and the other was a passage into the main part of the bar. The DJ gear was in the lenticular room on a counter; it consisted of what appeared to be a single turntable with a CD slot and maybe some slots for memory cards. There was a large black backpack full of records, CDs, and cassette cartons. For what seemed like a long time, I played one selection after another from records and CDs, wishing that there were two turntables so I could mix seamlessly. Often I seemed to forget about my duties for a while after a song ended, so that nothing would be playing. Eventually some people made song requests, including “Come Together” by the Beatles, which I found in one of the cassette cartons, a large collection of cassettes of perhaps the Beatles’ entire oeuvre, in a glossy yellow box. But I couldn’t find a slot on the machine for cassettes. Basically I was doing a pretty poor job of DJing. No one seemed to be complaining, though. At the end of the night, I packed up all the stuff and left. The next morning, which was wintry-sunny, I was staying with maybe my entire class, as well as a lot of other people, in a motel that sat along the south and west edges of a large parking lot. Dan was also there and as we were all packing up to leave, I found him and retrieved some belongings of my own that I’d left in the music backpack. I wasn’t sure if he was upset about my lackluster DJing, and I just let it go.

Actually, I remember one other scene, probably occurring before the above one, which was also after dark; I was in a city, maybe New Orleans, maybe Keene, in a shopping center parking lot, and I went into a painted cinder-block building on its eastern edge trying to get to a transit station, I think, on the other side of it. Various hallways of the building seemed not to lead to the other side, though. I went down some stairs and encountered university-age students apparently leaving school for the night, and I followed them back up the stairs. One was telling a story to the others about someone they all knew, and she helpfully explained more background to me so I’d understand what they were talking about. I think I exited the building, but I don’t remember if I went to the station from there.

rivers and ponds

From naptime:

  • The setting of the first scene I remember was a couple of places near to each other, one along a small river with a town along the north bank and more open land on the south bank, ringed by hills maybe in all directions; the other place was another clearing to the east of the first, visually separated maybe by forest; it was late afternoon, going into sunset, seemingly winter with the sun setting in the southwest. Eventually I was writing a story down — visible in large text at the bottom of my field of view as I was writing it and partially experiencing what I was writing about. I was writing with Hemingwegian concision about a natural disaster that progressively befell the places. This event was a storm (a heavy blizzard/windstorm as I was seeing it) that was so severe that it caused building collapse in the town. Both before and during the storm, there were dark clouds overhead but clear sky close to the horizon all around, so that there was sunlight or bright daylight from the southwest the whole time.
  • In another scene, I was walking home from a school session (a summer session like RL SD, seemingly) for the third year in a row, at a somewhat later time of day than previous years, so that as I came to a spot I recognized (which was actually the only part of this walk that I remember occurring in the dream) during evening twilight where I had previously been in the afternoon, I enjoyed seeing the different conditions and took out my camera to snap them. The place was the east bank of a river, with a grassy trail extending north along the bank and another very straight one extending due east; the eastward one continued into the interior of a building whose door was open and that was lit by fluorescent shop lights, and everywhere but the trails was woods, including a line of trees along the riverbank, so I could only see a small amount of the building the eastward trail went to. The initial impetus for taking the camera out was another, small building at the SW edge of the junction of the trails, only ~6′ each dimension, the memory of which has become vague but which was maybe somehow modernistic but with a gambrel roof, and maybe red in color, possibly illuminated from the inside; there was also a bit of port-like infrastructure near it on the riverbank, concrete pads and metal railings and hooks and such.
  • At another point I was talking to a classmate about the drive to SD and back and all the incredible landscapes we’d seen along the way. We were in a room of glossy materials, maybe a meeting room or classroom or exhibit room, with late afternoon sunlight streaming into a northwestern part of the room.
  • At two other points, one on a sunny afternoon and the other on a sunny mid-morning, I was walking back, maybe connected to the aforementioned walk, through the land of some neighbors, which contained two small roundish ponds (that I could see) surrounded by land sloping up semi-steeply but smoothly from them. In the morning, one was to the north and the other was to the east; in the afternoon the directions were turned around to south and west, respectively. There were some bed-sized, slightly-built wooden frames at the edge of both ponds, one of which in the eastern pond I seemed to try to climb onto.

Utö December

All I recall clearly from last night is that partway through a journey, I and a number of classmates returned to Utö in December, and it was bitterly cold and the ground was thick with snow and ice, but it was a sunny late afternoon, with the sun about to set, quite early because of the northern latitude. The lay of the land was different from RL, with a main north-south road area flanked by ridges on each side, a long house being sited on the west ridge, where we seemed to be based. At this particular point, though, we were outside exploring the area.

studio graphic

From an afternoon nap: some classmates and I returned to studio in SD on an evening, after dark; when I entered a few classmates as well as my professor were already sat down working. One of them fumbled a piece of pencil across the floor as I was walking nearby, so I tried to roll it back to him, but it ricocheted and came back toward me, even though hitting the wall at an acute angle. The east wall of the studio room and the north wall of the passage attached to it to the east had a repeating large graphic for a variety store, which comprised a Band-Aid positioned vertically, with a red fluorescent light covering part of one half of it longitudinally, plus some other object, maybe a pen, that all together made the Band-Aid also look like a cigarette.