I dreamed I was watching a movie preview of a man and woman breaking up. She was on the bed crying and asking a bunch of “but what about??…’s” But what about if your sister calls? But what about if it’s your birthday? He just closed the door and left.
Next I see this game show made out of an upright gigantic bean bag toss and the same actress from the movie preview. (She was also “me.” You know how dreams go). She was tightrope walking on the top of the contraption as someone or something threw objects to make the squares spin on the board. They were all squares pertaining to her life. “His sister calls and you always cover for him.” SPINNN! You have friends. SPINNN! You waste time thinking “if only I’d known.” SPINNN! The audience is a circus, laughing and cheering on cue. The actress is marching across the top like a drum majorette in high heeled boots, knees way up with every step, bean bags hitting spinning squares, announcer belting out things about my life, audience frenzy egging me/her on.
I leave that scene.
I’m somewhere dark but it’s lit with pretty colors. I can feel I’m dreaming, but I stay asleep. I can also feel I’m crying but want to stay with the dream. If I turn a corner I make new colors. This dark alley is a gorgeous purple… turn the corner, the brick is lit with green. A man begins walking behind me and I feel afraid. I quickly enter a building and try to lose him but he follows. As he stops and talks to someone I go up and down the zigzag staircase thinking that will confuse him, but it ends only a foot from where it started.
I still seem to have lost him and am in an entirely different scene. I’m walking on sharp gravel and every so often I hear a rock up ahead drop. I am crying even harder – only in real life, not in the dream – and feel very, very sad and lonely. To the left there is darkness and nothing and to the right is a wooden wall with windows. Someone is throwing marble rocks through the windows. As I near, the white marble rocks grow bigger I yell to stop or they’ll hit me.
A voice booms:
“Can you not SEE I am making great art here?!”
And I realize it is parallel to the game show, every time a bean bag is tossed, a chunk of marble is thrown, all sculpting and cutting away at and adding to the life that is on the board on the other side of the windows.
It is me. And I am the art. “Great” art.
Aren’t dreams the weirdest thing ever? I easily interpret that to mean: Everything that happens to me makes me, well, me. But I watched it play out as some Alice in Wonderland odyssey that had me crying and melancholy even still. Why?…