syncategorematic: (mystical)
( Mar. 8th, 2013 08:33 am)
Dreamed that animals were beginning to grow intelligent and sentient: seagulls were captured on video having a (rather cartoonish) jumbo jet fly low overhead, and they rush towards the camera to bow and worship it. I am trying to write, and a grizzly bear with enormous claws comes up beside me and nods that it should write as well. I let it, and run off to ask my mother where I put my camera, looking for my camera as the bear continues to write.

Tales of yesterday's adventures will resume shortly.
I had another nightmare.

I was working in somewhere like the bagelshop, and it was late at night, it had already closed, and most of the place except for the bakery at the back was dark. I was happily exploring little wall hangings that looked like large eggs with long trailing decorated cords attached. One I liked was a vivid red, like the Chinese knot decorations, while another was a rich blue. I consider buying them. Suddenly I get a page on the phone, "Chocolates at 392, chocolates at 392" and move to see someone, profiled against the light from the bakery, stealing chocolate. I move to accost the thief from the front; someone wearing a red t-shirt (one of the young Asian lads barely out of high school who do work in the bagelshop in real life) moves at him from the back. The intruder rises and runs at me; backlit against the bakery light, he is a large young man in a navy-blue sweater, with dark curly hair and a very florid, scared and violent face. I know that if I confront him, I have no chance of winning by brute force, so I let him past me and let him go, even though he did steal a chocolate bar. I look at the youth who was my ally. I am alive and safe, we'll catch him later, and the chocolate bar doesn't matter that much anyway, but the moment of confrontation was what made me almost-wake, adrenaline racing and heart in my throat.

Hmm, the loyal Dream Moods online dictionary, will you provide me with insight and wisdom?
To see chocolate in your dream, signifies self-reward. It also denotes that you may be indulging in too many excesses and need to practice some restraint. --- but it wasn't mine to begin with and it was getting stolen from me!

To dream that you are a witness to a theft, indicates that others are wasting and stealing your time, energy, and ideas. --- yeah, I suspect the bagelshop is wasting my energy.

To see a bakery in your dream, signifies richness and success. Your future will be an enjoyable [sic], pleasant and filled with satisfaction. --- hehe, me likes.

Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations. Intense passion as well as the ordinary kind?
Red is also the color of danger, shame, sexual impulses and urges. Perhaps you need to stop and think about your actions. --- keep in mind that I really liked those hangings, and the lad in the red t-shirt was not a close ally but an ally nevertheless.

I don't think what they say about blue --- spirituality and wisdom, etc. --- really applies here. But what's up with everyone many people wearing blue of various shades in my dreams, as if my dreamworld is having an Attack of the Clones of the Dark Lord Day* (Night?)? And I could recall nothing significant about the number 392. It's 2^3 x 7^2, which is cool, but that's it, and I didn't know that before Wikipedia told me.

And I really don't see why I should be so scared. Well, I am making a presentation today, or should be, but I don't feel it is about that.

*which really happened. But involved ties as well.

[profile] athaira9   posted the following quotation:
All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams.-Elias Canetti
I replied,
Like escalators, blue-shirted future husbands, the Ob' river, horses, German essays, train stations, fuchsia-garbed impatient men, Hayden Panettiere and editing Wikipedia entries (whom I, strangely, dreamed of last night), Reach for the Top students wielding tanks, and vanadium?
Come to think of it, I've dreamed of both train and Metro stations within the last month -- is something moving? While searching for Mayakovsky quotations yesterday, I encountered the line,
"If a song does not thunder down train stations, what then is alternating current for?"
I've got songs, I've apparently got train stations, I haven't yet got thunder (the verb has the metaphorical meaning "raze" but I wanted to keep the morphological as much as I could) and I am sure somewhere in my computer there's alternating current doing something.

I expected someone to point out that posting what my subconscious declares to be a prophecy may affect the future course of events simply by people knowing this. It made me think, though, of Alexander Grin's most famous romance, Scarlet Sails (there's an English translation here, actually) where the plot, as I was told it, was exactly that of the girl Assol who gets foretold that her love will come to her on a ship with scarlet sails. The sea-captain Grey falls in love with her, hears of this, and buys up a lot of scarlet dye... To confirm whether that plot was actually an accurate retelling, I went to the text, started reading, and the following lines struck me:
Now at last did he see what it was in her face that had struck him so. "An unwitting expectation of the beautiful, of a blissful fate," he decided. "Ah, why wasn't I born a writer? What a wonderful theme for a story."
I wondered whether that was what I had in that face when I could tell I was happy but could not tell how*. An unwitting optimism. True, I suppose in this, so very generally, I am a romantic as I am not in specifics; there is a quiet conviction that life will be beautiful! Added to a quiet conviction in myself, that if it is not beautiful, I will not stand for it long, and will do something about that.

*I went back to look at it, and I think I see that my mysterious expression in the last photograph had that, yes, but also, now, what I was saying is completely clear to me: "I wish you joy!" I expect the beautiful...and I want it for everyone else as well; it doesn't lessen by this.
syncategorematic: (bookbird)
( Feb. 25th, 2008 08:35 am)
No nightmares, exactly, but I am very familiar with academic anxiety dreams and this time I got the mother of all of them. I had to wake up and remember that the presentation in Semantics class I have scheduled for Wednesday is on semantics, is purely in English, is on just one paper, and I've already written the script for it. Because according to my dream, it involved the history of the German language and of Berlin, had to have at least 10% of it entirely in German, and the day before my presentation Ana told me that I should include something on the history of Vienna as well. But I have no time to research the history of Vienna, as in my research, I keep riding up and down escalators, reading about an army captain who, on rescuing people from solitary isolation in caves or beneath the sea, opens with one Livingstone-I-presume joke: "Could you tell me the way to Frederick / Friedlander Street?" Now I know that the real F-street (in my dream) is in London, near Fleet Street that I've walked down once, but I do not find that joke funny, and I give up on integrating the Vienna component, as I have no time. I see a friend walking along the street, and catch up with him, but realize he is not who I thought he was but only one of the Reach for the Top kids I coach, so I go back, down escalators and through Metro and subway and Tube stations, trying to remember my German for that 10%. I can spell "Entschuldigung," that's about it.

I am seriously discombobulated. What I don't like is the constant motif of descent into the underworld (the Tube stations!) and then ascent again. Descent into the long dark tunnel of the soul is the last thing I want, even if I come out of it still knowing nothing about Vienna.
I was supposed to have a peaceful night's sleep, I tried for it, --- but I had restless dreams of the kind where there is a dream going at one level of awareness, and on another I am aware of my body in bed (and how nice and warm that is and how I really should sleep properly because I do have to get up in the morning) The dreams on the upper level were lucid enough. I even remembered, for once, that old injunction I read somewhere to try to find your hands in your dreams. My hands looked weird, beige and semi-transparent.

And I dreamed of vanadium.

Now that I've skimmed through the Wikipedia article, I know a lot more about it, but at the time of my dream all I knew was that it was an element, and that it is used in aircraft titanium alloys (yeah, when I know only one thing about something, it is normally a weird thing; but I've looked online at rings made of aircraft titanium alloy).

[personal profile] siderea and [profile] quantumkitty were in the dream, even though I haven't (yet) seen either of them in real life. We were arguing about the amount of vanadium we need; I said four tons. Quantumkitty said no, we need 20 tons. And Siderea argued that no, 20 tons would not be enough, we need 40 tons. (I've got no idea whether it is even possible to get forty tons of pure vanadium at all; but it will doubtless be very very expensive.)

I wish I knew what we ended up using the forty tons of vanadium for. But then the dream shifted to me supervising a children's and high-school students' party of sorts (that is probably anticipatory nervousness for a Reach for the Top tournament I supervise on Thrusday; many of the students I coach are in the dream). Except that for three of the students, their idea of fun and good times and entertainment on the basketball court was to get three military tanks and to use them to shoot outhouse. Which outhouse can tap dance (kind of like Baba Yaga's house, come to think of it). Except that they could not do it; amid smoke and fire, their tanks kept tipping over. I was not worried about them hurting themselves, somehow, despite this, but I finally had to intercede and dissuade them. Meanwhile one of the girls became a yoga dancer and turned into blue-skinned Kali. While I wheedled a can of Sprite from one of my most talented younger quiz players.

This is one of the weirder dreams I've had --- but i think the latter part is just anticipating chaos and weirdness at quiz tournaments (and chaos and weirdness is the definition of how quiz tournaments exist, so nothing really new here) but it is the former part --- I wish I knew what vanadium means to me. or why Siderea and Quantumkitty think I need so much of it.

Oddly enough, vanadium has atomic number 23, my favourite number in a lot of other ways. I don't think I consciously knew that before, although heaven knows I've seen the periodic table enough times.y
Hey, in dreams, what can frequent mention of rivers mean? (I am immediately excluding the obvious, "When you get up, you need to pee, bad" as it does not apply in this case.)

My dreams last night were completely full of the statement, "Biya goes towards Katun', Katun' races towards Biya, and together they join and form the great river Ob'. There is debate on the origin of the word Ob', but some say it stems from "obe", both, both rivers, Katun' and Biya, become one Ob'."

Which is all true
. Long, long, very long ago (pre-1991) I read approximately that paragraph in a writer's account of travel in the Altai. I just have no clue as to why I need a review of it now.

It gets more fun; near waking i finally shifted from reviewing Siberian hydrographic mergers to making a t-shirt with a photo from The Phantom of the Opera  on it, and writing around it in indelible marker, "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came, that voice which calls to me and speaks my name..."

No, no, no, the Siberian rivers raise their heads and correct me, it is not the Phantom of the Opera, it's the Fountain of the Opera! Water, water everywhere! (And I did type Fountain first when typing the above paragraph.)

Honestly, seriously, I didn't need to pee on waking up. Given the song about the sea I quoted in yesterday's post, I can imagine dreaming of the sea, but not of rivers.

Ob': The Opera.
syncategorematic: (when I am tired)
( Dec. 9th, 2007 05:23 am)
I dreamed of a pile of things all clustered and balanced together on a church steeple --- the old pilots' joke about a one-point landing. There was only one way to get down, by slide. And then I woke and couldn't get to sleep again.

Is this always going to happen on Sunday mornings? The morning I get the least sleep anyway, and need it the most urgently? And there is a party tonight. Thankfully, I do not have to wake early tomorrow, but still, me on a sleep deficit is not a sight for sore eyes. Why? Why?

Coffee, you shall be my friend.

Circadian rhythms, get back to the negotiation table. Now.


syncategorematic: (Default)


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