Well here I am cutting further into tonight’s sleep by writing about my dreams of two nights ago plus a nap yesterday (two days ago) afternoon, when I woke up at 7:43 and was hella worried it was 7:43 AM for a bit.
In the aforementioned night, I dreamed that I was in the NH house with my parents, at nighttime, but it was in a dense, bricky STL neighborhood, and maybe it actually had more built space on top of it. There was a line of thunderstorms arriving — I had been checking the radar out on a touchscreen-like handheld computer display on the sunporch, and I could see the scattered storms moving along towards us. There seemed to be a lightning-related fire in the immediate area, perhaps in the upper area of an adjacent building, though there was no direct physical sign of it, because emergency personnel were gathering up there, with a searchlight shining on the upper reaches of the adjacent building, and loudspeaker announcements audible. One announcement was a plea to help accommodate fire victims by letting them into our homes, and charitably, we promptly went around the house to make sure all the doors were locked. The house had a north porchlike room, unlike IRL, in an olive color, that was part of our rounds (there were a couple more doors to deal with than the RL number of 5). I returned to the sunporch to lock its door and now looked out to the normal NH surroundings, with multiple trucks pulling through the driveway and such as a cougar perched on the wooden bench in the backyard, with one or two front legs standing up on the back of the bench. At that point there was a modicum of gray daylight from the southwest.
In the nap, I dreamt about possibly Mission Park dorm at Williams, but it had a tall, cavernous, dark brown (on the interior), facet-faced rec room on the south (RL east) end, lit from the east and west, on an overcast day. Filling a large part of the floor space of the room was a human slingshot machine where you would climb (or fall) into a basin that sloped down, opening into a covered part of the machine, and you would be snagged by some rubber straps that would impel you through the machine and whip you out the other end, into a lower basin. This, somehow, was a fun thing, quite non-injurious, even though it seemed like it would just be whipping people against a wall with fatal force. ANYWAY, later I was in and/or around a large, old, gray, paintpeely house on the site of the RL NH house -— it was boxy in plan and was maybe close to Federal style, and maybe about four full floors tall. Again it was a gray day, but it was a blustery, wintry, snowy day, with fast-moving, scudding low clouds. There was a small plane in the sky (maybe more than one) that we wanted to get to land to wait out the inclemency of the weather, and it landed, with a very short taxiing distance, near the asparagus, in the field, southwest from the house. At that point it was instead a sunny (reduced by altostratus) late morning, and my dad (who had helped signal the plane during landing) and I checked out the plane up close, whether with the pilot around I forget, but anyway it was of a glittery blue color. We took a look at the engine. There was some connection with family history, like maybe the pilot was a relative or the situation related to a historical incident.
Also, there were influences from WALL·E happening, the specifics of which I’ve forgotten, since I had just watched some clips and trailers from it before the nap. Slanching off on a tangent from this blog’s premise for a rare instant, I’ve got to say that I’m pretty excited to see the movie — to me it seems to have a musical analogue in experimental pop, like Brian Eno’s early solo albums that use a pop framework (here, Pixar) to explore sonic and lyrical frontiers (or, here, an eco-apocalyptic vision). Also, Wall-E is such a visually affecting character just by the way the outline of his eye-appendages make him look like he’s always doing sad-eyebrows (you know… circumflex eyebrows, rather than angry hacek eyebrows).