Dream: The Green Glass Yod and the Musical Plate


Dream 20040527, 6:45 AM:

I’m at a Renfaire-like place. I go into a tent, open on the top (or just well lit?) where a woman is planning to teach some art class – I don’t remember the subject, but she shows me handouts and talks to me about it. Part of the materials for the class, is a green glass torah pointer, a YOD. I’m all excited; I’ve looked for these at antique stores and other places, but never found one. She shows me that it’s hollow, like a cigarrette holder; it’s actually designed for some kind of smoking. The hand part of it wraps around, like it would be holding the butt of a cigarrette as if it were a torch. I try to figure out where the mouthpiece hooks into the back end, but she shows me that it has a little container at the back end, and it’s full of herb. I think it’s pot at first, but as she tips it out into her hand, I realize that it’s bits of rosemary leaf, along with several pulled human baby teeth.

Then, I’m in a place which is a weird combination of an orphanage and a puppy farm. It is enclosed by security fences, but is more like a park than like a building. It seems like both children and puppies are being abused here, raised for sale in sub-standard conditions. There is a screechy, domineering woman – very much the type of the stereotypical orphanage operator; we all hate her, and fear her too. There is a little white dog that talks bad about her out loud in front of her, and she reaches over and unclips its head, which comes off still talking, and throws it into a slow-moving stream of water. The head sinks, its collar still attached to a leash; it’s a weird punishment, and I know that she’ll leave its head under water for some length of time for being sassy. Another dog, this one small and black, pushes the woman into the water, and she grabs onto his leash, trying to pull herself out. I help the dog, somehow keeping her in the water; I extract a promise from her that she won’t take revenge, and I record it on an electronic device – but once she submits and we let her out, the device shows a message stating that part of the recording has been erased, and I know that she’s tricked us. Then, I plan an elaborate escape – there are multiple gates, and buttons to push – I manage to eventually get out, and find myself in a large building with huge hallways like an airport. Walking along a moving sidewalk in the huge hallways, I run into other young poeple from the orphanage that I recognize; they’ve escaped, but never really left. It’s both comforting and disconcerting.

Then, I go to a Ren-Faire like place; I think Chris is with me, but I’m not sure. Friends wave us in, hug us – they’re standing off to one side of the gate, and we go around the main gate and don’t have to pay to get in. As we’re going thru the faire, I see a heart-shaped blue ceramic plate on a table in one of the booths; I pick it up and run my finger around its raised lip, trying to play it like a meditation bowl; it makes an odd wobbly note. A girl who works at the booth says it plays a different way, and shows me – it’s like a panning-for-gold motion, up in the air. I realize that it has a stand that is vibrating against it; she didn’t realize that. The stand is a slim metal piece, and below it is a pad that sits on the table. I start playing with it, and get a variety of sounds. A friend whispers to the girl something about how this one is only for the Wicca. I walk through a different part of the Faire, and go into a booth that seems like somene’s house, and a man points out a woman’s lower torso (sculpture? Or is her upper torso just hidden?) smoking cocaine. He says something about how her vagina is smoking coke, and it’s a happy vagina. He asks if I need to be handed something, and slips me a tiny, green-wrapped joint roach, which looks like it’s wrapped in leaves, not in paper, and I fold it into a mulberry leaf and stick it in my pocket. He flips open something that I have to look twice to realize is a lighter, and I light it up, smoking the whole thing down in one long draft, and then put the nub down the sink drain. I don’t feel stoned, but feel very good.

Later, I’m working at the Faire – the orphanage group is here, and we’re working at a booth selling stuff; it seems like it’s slave labor, like we don’t have a choice to be here. It shifts through as it goes on, and later it seems like the group is trying to support itself, and working hard on that. I have been practising with the tuned plate, and can now play it like a violin – I make the most amazingly wild and beautiful songs. People stop and gather to hear. Then, someone in our group goes and gets all the rest of the group, who are scattered across the faire. I have to watch the booth, and have to fight with a few people who try to steal stuff from the tables. They have trouble gathering the whole group; someone says that “Josh is the eleventh” – I think we’re waiting on him to arrive so that the group will be complete. The group gets back, and I play the plate; I get sounds anywhere from deep growls to high squeaks, and it sounds like there are several instruments involved, but it’s just the one. It’s almost like a gypsy tune, very boisterous and energetic. Everyone is amazed; it’s like some kind of miracle. We have been offered a LOT of money for *this* plate, and I think that I can probably play any of them this way, and we could make a good profit. Overall feeling at the end is very positive, upbeat, hopeful.

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