My nightmares are infrequent--thankfully. I think I could even call them rare considering how often I dream and how few of those dreams are unpleasant.
Last night I dreamed that I was back in Minnesota. Life was going well, until I realized that I had missed three shifts in a row at work. I didn't know I worked then and just didn't go. I was about to talk to my boss about it and tell her that I just didn't notice I was supposed to work...and I woke up. Thankfully.
Eek. I think I may have a little anxiety about going back to work in MN.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Dreams
The past few nights I have had brilliant sleep quality. It seems that I'm finally able to have the right temperature and tune out the traffic. Moreover, I have been falling asleep and staying asleep. Beautiful.
I think it has been because my nights have been full. (1)Dinner and devotions with Paul and Laurel (2)Hour + of throwing (3)Time working on distance ed (4)Free reading before sleep. Last night I walked up to an old fort here in town. 'Twas a scenic and enjoyable walk.
Over the course of my sleep-filled nights, I have had some very chaotic dreams. It seems that this is most readily gauged by the number of people in my dreams. One night I was traveling and stopping at very crowded gas stations and shopping complexes. In one I ran into Nyla Evans. We were elated to see each other and hardly left each other's presence--literally, she was giving me a piggy back ride. Then there was a huge conference of sorts at a Bible camp.
Another night I dreamed that my sisters and I were the four "little women." In that same dream the Biechler family was parallel to the Kent family (Smallville again) and had quite the conflict with the Luthers.
Last night, my dreams took me to a Bible conference with a bunch of NWC and Trout Lake Camp persons. At one point we went to a coffeeshop and Bre was working there. She slipped her discount card so I could get 50% off. I almost got kicked out because I didn't have evidence that I'd made a purchase there that day. I hadn't reserved a hotel room for the conference, but three rooms were left at the hotel--at $325 a pop. I got a room that had been trashed by NWC people. I was later appalled because I found out that some of the NWC couples were sharing hotel rooms.
Anyhow, my dreams lately include lots of people from various parts of my past. Intense.
I think it has been because my nights have been full. (1)Dinner and devotions with Paul and Laurel (2)Hour + of throwing (3)Time working on distance ed (4)Free reading before sleep. Last night I walked up to an old fort here in town. 'Twas a scenic and enjoyable walk.
Over the course of my sleep-filled nights, I have had some very chaotic dreams. It seems that this is most readily gauged by the number of people in my dreams. One night I was traveling and stopping at very crowded gas stations and shopping complexes. In one I ran into Nyla Evans. We were elated to see each other and hardly left each other's presence--literally, she was giving me a piggy back ride. Then there was a huge conference of sorts at a Bible camp.
Another night I dreamed that my sisters and I were the four "little women." In that same dream the Biechler family was parallel to the Kent family (Smallville again) and had quite the conflict with the Luthers.
Last night, my dreams took me to a Bible conference with a bunch of NWC and Trout Lake Camp persons. At one point we went to a coffeeshop and Bre was working there. She slipped her discount card so I could get 50% off. I almost got kicked out because I didn't have evidence that I'd made a purchase there that day. I hadn't reserved a hotel room for the conference, but three rooms were left at the hotel--at $325 a pop. I got a room that had been trashed by NWC people. I was later appalled because I found out that some of the NWC couples were sharing hotel rooms.
Anyhow, my dreams lately include lots of people from various parts of my past. Intense.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Cyndi Hearts Will Smith
Last night I had a myriad of dreams. One began hanging out with Cyndi R. at a school. We saw Will Smith, only he was really scrawny with greying hair. Cyndi got really excited, so I had to restrain her by picking her up and bringing her to the cafeteria. Much of the rest of the dream was about a movement across the US towards racial reconciliation. 'Twas pretty intense, and one guy had to do an impression of some Harvey Stevenson guy, who was apparently a famous singer.
Anyhow, also in my dream included chastising for sleeping in too late and I had the impression it was three in the afternoon. So I got up: it was 9:30.
Anyhow, also in my dream included chastising for sleeping in too late and I had the impression it was three in the afternoon. So I got up: it was 9:30.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Ishmael
Last night, my dream(s) wandered through various scenes, with one continuous chorus: Ishmael.
Scene1:
At the beginning of my dream, I was at the house of my employer's in-laws. There they were telling me of a brick church built in Galena. Apparently the roof had been built in the style that the town wanted, but not the rest of the building. Moreover, the roof was much larger than the rest of the building and had been constructed first. My boss' father-in-law (Chuck) declared that he and his wife would have joined the church if it had been built earlier, but still recommended that I visit it.
Scene 2:
I was outside a house with a porch, apparently babysitting from a family. My charge was a young girl of around 6, and I recall being so happy to be in the company of children again.
Scene 3:
This event was apparently a film that I was watching and also partaking in. It took place inside the house mentioned in scene 2. There were horses that looked like cats. And one was to be released into the next room. However, both got out, with Alia speeding after them. She chased the one which was not to be out below the stairwell on which Reed and another stood. Reed had a volleyball in his hand and was supposed to spike it at the horse/cat. He missed his cue, and the narrator spoke, "He gave the ball a pathetic thud, hardly matching with the loud boom which followed on its impact."
Chaos then ensued.
Chorus:
Throughout the dream, weaving intermittently through the waves of weak plot was one word: Ishmael. Ishmael. Ishmael. When I heard the word I saw the rims of clay cups, roughened and not yet rounded; they spun and weaved before me like wheels. And tumultuously the word: Ishmael.
All through the night I could hear the traffic rattling along--above speed limit--and each bump that woke me sounded "Ishmael."
I finally awoke to a thud which seemed to narrate something being hit or run over. I then heard the semi pull to a stop. I woke with a start and the word "Ishmael" engraved in my mind.
Scene1:
At the beginning of my dream, I was at the house of my employer's in-laws. There they were telling me of a brick church built in Galena. Apparently the roof had been built in the style that the town wanted, but not the rest of the building. Moreover, the roof was much larger than the rest of the building and had been constructed first. My boss' father-in-law (Chuck) declared that he and his wife would have joined the church if it had been built earlier, but still recommended that I visit it.
Scene 2:
I was outside a house with a porch, apparently babysitting from a family. My charge was a young girl of around 6, and I recall being so happy to be in the company of children again.
Scene 3:
This event was apparently a film that I was watching and also partaking in. It took place inside the house mentioned in scene 2. There were horses that looked like cats. And one was to be released into the next room. However, both got out, with Alia speeding after them. She chased the one which was not to be out below the stairwell on which Reed and another stood. Reed had a volleyball in his hand and was supposed to spike it at the horse/cat. He missed his cue, and the narrator spoke, "He gave the ball a pathetic thud, hardly matching with the loud boom which followed on its impact."
Chaos then ensued.
Chorus:
Throughout the dream, weaving intermittently through the waves of weak plot was one word: Ishmael. Ishmael. Ishmael. When I heard the word I saw the rims of clay cups, roughened and not yet rounded; they spun and weaved before me like wheels. And tumultuously the word: Ishmael.
All through the night I could hear the traffic rattling along--above speed limit--and each bump that woke me sounded "Ishmael."
I finally awoke to a thud which seemed to narrate something being hit or run over. I then heard the semi pull to a stop. I woke with a start and the word "Ishmael" engraved in my mind.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Pyro
My dream last night was very limited in scope. In it, I was prepping for an exhibition in the Denler. I was to exhibit one piece, the very same one I made on the Italy trip. On the trip I sketched various people in a sketchbook. There was a white triangular shelf set up and I propped my square black sketchbook up so it lay open. Propping it open on the left and right were objects that seemed like a blend of coin/stone/candle. I then grabbed a lighter, and for the exhibition, I lit the coins which then ignited the book and it began burning. Not consumed entirely at one, but page by page. Apparently it was some sort of performance piece.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Dream (a couple weeks ago): Knitting
I think I had this dream when I was in Iowa, and without easy computer access. The dream began with Kyle K. and Katlin (and maybe Audra) walking into a room to knit. It then shifted, and I I was to teach a knitting class as a presentation for a class with Dr. Banks. In my dream, the class was to meet in a living room. Now, if you've ever had a class with Dr. Banks, you know she SHOWERS you with resources: articles, books, videos. It's a whirlwind of learning.
In my dream, this was no different. The living room was cluttered and a television was set up which was showing how to knit. Furthermore, Dr. Banks handed out articles with knitting instructions. My very lesson was being ripped from below me. People were following the video and handouts rather than listen to my instruction. Furthermore, the video was blending knitting and crocheting and wasn't pure knitting.
My efforts to focus their attention was failing, and with assurance that my grade was falling, I surrendered.
In my dream, this was no different. The living room was cluttered and a television was set up which was showing how to knit. Furthermore, Dr. Banks handed out articles with knitting instructions. My very lesson was being ripped from below me. People were following the video and handouts rather than listen to my instruction. Furthermore, the video was blending knitting and crocheting and wasn't pure knitting.
My efforts to focus their attention was failing, and with assurance that my grade was falling, I surrendered.
Dream: Play, Opening Night
Last night I dreamed about a play production at school. I was apparently a stage hand, and I reported for the first night's performance. Though I was supposedly a part of the production, I didn't recall having attended any of the performances. At first my viewpoint was watching the show, and Hannah E. was performing as a waitress, wearing a pink dress. Then I switched places with her, and suddenly she became the one ordering.
She gave me a complex order: one glass pink lemonade, one mixed pink and yellow, and so forth. I went backstage to get the props to fill the order. I kept jumbling it. Dropping cups. Mismatching cups. Cups of different colors. Eventually I grabbed a sushi tray filled with Asian soup spoons that were propped up with built in heels. They looked like they could be worn, and I encouraged my table members to drink from them. This is my shameful part of my dream, for at this point I was speaking in a stereotypical Asian accented English. I felt so racist and cruel for doing this in my dream, but apparently I was supposed to for that character in the play.
The play progressed. The next scene I was in, I was seated at a table with a male character. He was professing his love for me. He was going to leave his girlfriend to be with me. This whole dream, I recall not knowing my lines or even the plot line of the play. I had a paperback book opened in front of me, which was the same plot line. I poured over it in hopes to find what I was supposed to say. I improved things left and right.
Throughout the scene, the curtain would open and close when it should remain open. I recall such incredible guilt, feeling both that I had traumatized this (fictional) couple's relationship as well as botched the play.
The entire performance was horrendous. Afterwards I spoke with the director, pleading, "If I knew I was a character in the play, I would have memorized my lines!"
She gave me a complex order: one glass pink lemonade, one mixed pink and yellow, and so forth. I went backstage to get the props to fill the order. I kept jumbling it. Dropping cups. Mismatching cups. Cups of different colors. Eventually I grabbed a sushi tray filled with Asian soup spoons that were propped up with built in heels. They looked like they could be worn, and I encouraged my table members to drink from them. This is my shameful part of my dream, for at this point I was speaking in a stereotypical Asian accented English. I felt so racist and cruel for doing this in my dream, but apparently I was supposed to for that character in the play.
The play progressed. The next scene I was in, I was seated at a table with a male character. He was professing his love for me. He was going to leave his girlfriend to be with me. This whole dream, I recall not knowing my lines or even the plot line of the play. I had a paperback book opened in front of me, which was the same plot line. I poured over it in hopes to find what I was supposed to say. I improved things left and right.
Throughout the scene, the curtain would open and close when it should remain open. I recall such incredible guilt, feeling both that I had traumatized this (fictional) couple's relationship as well as botched the play.
The entire performance was horrendous. Afterwards I spoke with the director, pleading, "If I knew I was a character in the play, I would have memorized my lines!"
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