Well, I will write this as if you do care because it was very strange. In my dream, I walked into a field-like area. It was as if my dream went from darkness to me walking into the light of this field and discovering who else was walking around me. With me was Ryan M., my father, Ben R., and some female--I think a peer, possibly Anna R.? I remember having a soar of indignation and turning my shoulder on Ryan and sidling up beside Ben for the walk. When I say "sidling up" I mean Ben and I were locked--my left shoulder to his right. We started chatting and walking, and i referenced how ridiculously close we were walking, but it wasn't awkward. And then, I found that if I leaned into Ben enough, I could lift my feet off the ground and somehow my connection to him enabled me no need to walk, but there was no carrying or anything, just our shoulders touching.
After a while, and some bouts of me picking up my legs and letting Ben "carry" me along, I realized that those behind us (the rest of our party) was taking attention to our walking. We had been walking straight along our path and began turning left and curving around as if following a giant horseshoe, and my father plucked Ben from me so that he could have a talk with him--our walk had sent the impression that we were in some relationship. I then realized that the "field" we were walking in was really wood chips, and not just any wood chips, but triangular flat pieces, like one would use to secure stretcher bars together while stretching canvas.
As I looked up, I saw that there were billboard sized canvases all around. Though the sky was bright and the air warm, I suddenly felt as if we were standing amidst snow covered hills. Some of the billboard like creations around us were empty stretcher bars and some had blank canvases. I saw that if you picked up the little biscuits of wood, you could throw them so that they would stick out of the canvas. I then saw that this worked even for the empty stretcher bars. The rest of my dream was me joining into this endeavor to hurl the little wood pieces--especially into the empty stretcher bars. I also had the feeling as if more people entered into my dream, people who seemed to be skiing, but I was mystified by the task I had taken on, and wondered if there was some sort of surface tension within the plane that allowed the wood pieces to stick.
There you go. Feel free to psychoanalyze me.
