Dream: Pentacle in the Workroom – Semi-lucid ND
Dream 20020921, 7:10 AM:
This was not so much a dream, as several little “dreamettes.” It seemed like they shifted from one to another with no segue, just as if I were flipping channels.
The first dreamlet – it seems like I’m at some sort of paradise resort. There is a man parasailing – I hear him talking as well. He is being pulled behind some sort of vehicle, but as he comes closer to landing, he’s not over water, he’s over a street with shops. He sort of runs his feet along a brick wall of a building as he lowers toward the ground. He’s talking about some man, and saying, “Not only is he a dreadful conversationist, but he’s bad in bed as well.” I’m startled that he’s talking about whoever it is like this; it seems like the speaker is straight, but it sounds like he’s speaking from experience of the other guy’s sexual skill, then I realize that he’s just not bound by conventional views of sexuality.
I’m walking along a row of small shops. It is like a little strip shopping center. I am looking through the windows, as if I’m looking for someone interesting to involve in the dream. I look into one store that looks like a cafe or bakery; it has tables and counters, and people are sitting down eating and talking. I see a woman in a big down jacket, purple and teal, and she has tightly curled longish blond hair. She sees me, and starts to stand up a little; I open the door and go inside. She stands all the way up, and I grab her and hug her very tight. I call her by name, I think it is Jennifer. I feel an overwhelming sense of love and relief, as if she had been lost and I was afraid she was gone forever, and I was so glad to find her and know that she was well. We stand there hugging for a long time, and everyone there is watching us; I remember somebody snapping a picture with a flash (ND light?), and had a sense of a movement of the scene around us, like a dollied scene in a move where the embracing couple is circled by the camera.
I’m in a room, actually it seems like a closet. There is a woman in here with me, and she is dressing. She reminds me somewhat of J., but she has close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, like #2 or shorter. She is pulling out clothes, and gives me a look like I’m standing too close to her. She is not wearing anything on top; I don’t know if she is wearing something on bottom or not, but I am just aware of seeing her breasts and thinking that she might be bothered by me being here, but she doesn’t seem to be self-conscious. She was just letting me know that I was standing in the way of where she needed to be to get dressed. She tells me something about J.T. giving her a note to the effect that “She thinks she’s the boss, and in charge of everything,” I tell her that yes, I had heard that. I think we’re talking about D., but am not sure.
I’m in the workroom, which seems to be where the spare bedroom actually is. I’m standing at a drafting table, and it has a piece of the green cutting-board plastic on top of it. The board is turned so that it is just green, though, with no markings. I have a sheet of white paper, like a piece of typing paper, and I’m trying to make a pentacle on the green board with it. I start out by curving it around the area where the circle should be, then putting it on-edge along the lines of the pentacle. It is upright the whole time, so that only one edge of the paper is contacting the board. I get frustrated with not being able to make more than the one line at a time; I am having difficulty holding the whole pattern in my mind, which seems essential. I start to draw the pattern on the green board with my finger tip. Then I realize that I need to get my athame, and draw it in the room where I’m standing; this will work much better. I leave the workroom, and start to go down the hallway with a funny high-stepping fast walk almost like a humorous tip-toe. As I go down the hall, all the walls are totally blank white, as is the ceiling – I realize that this is not the hallway in my house, and say to myself (out loud, or just in my mind?) “Wrong hallway! I’m dreaming.” Unfortunately, right as I realize that, I wake. *end*
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