Dream 20021012, 7:00 AM:
I’m in a room with a bunch of people who are going away to summer camp. They are talking about the fact that the outfits they wear for the trip are always useless for the camp itself – they are dressed up nicely, like for business. It seems like most of the people are middle-aged women; I don’t recall any men in the group. One red-headed sort of Jewish looking woman stands out in my memory; she is wearing a tawny orange silky looking blouse, untucked so that the tails hang out. Someone says that the trip clothes always take up space in their bags, and someone else mentions that she always wears hers for the trip back as well.
I realize that I’m dreaming. I don’t know what triggered it, it is just sort of a realization. I decide to spin for a new scene, because the room where I’m standing is kind of dull and gray. The women seem to have gone into an adjacent room, or else just faded once I stopped paying attention to them.
When my spinning stops, I find myself in a bright open house. The walls are all painted white, and the flooring is a pale color, like ash or blond oak. It has a golden sheen to it. It seems like the house is in the process of being painted; the furniture is pulled away from most of the walls toward the center of each room, and the walls are completely bare. It appears that I’m on the second floor, although I don’t see any stairs leading down. I just feel like I’m upstairs.
I walk into a room that appears to be a bedroom. It’s kind of hard to tell, with the walls all bare and the furniture all gone. It seems like the furniture for this room must have been pulled out into the hallway, or into another room entirely; it’s entirely vacant. It seems like there’s nothing really interesting going on here, so I decide to try to heighten my lucidity by saying “Heighten lucidity, heighten lucidity…” it’s like a little chant, and I sort of dance as I say it. It seems to work; my sensations are much more intense, and I have the same wonderful body buzz that I get when I fly. I look around, and decide that it’s a little dim in here, and I want to turn on the lights. I look up, and there are two fixtures like what we have in the Soap Room, but they’re not lit. Since I know this is a dream, I think I can turn them on by just telling them to turn on; I aim my fingers at them in a sort of gunslinger pose, leaning my elbows on my sides as if I’ve just pulled guns from hip holsters. I point at the lights and say, “turn on, lights!” but they don’t. I try it again, chagrined, and then I remember that lights are difficult. I go over to the wall and flip the switch, and the lights come on, but don’t seem to change the overall lighting of the room. It’s not dark in here, there appears to be light coming from windows, but it’s just not bright. Each light fixture has a little dim pool of light around it shining on the ceiling, as if they were very low-wattage bulbs. I realize that this is kind of pointless, and decide to look around some more.
I turn and walk to the end of the room at my left. About halfway there, I turn back, and there is now a steel rack in the center of the room. It appeared when I turned my back. It looks like one of those rolling garment racks like we have in the closet for Chris’s clothes, but it’s double (two bars, connected across with little beams) and seems very sturdy. It’s made of stainless steel with a brushed finish; it looks kind of industrial. Hanging from it are all these little odd-shaped hangers; they don’t look like anything that would support clothes. They have fairly normal-seeming tops, but the bottom part of each hanger just drops downward like an upside-down tuning fork. They are kind of plump-shaped about 1/2″ in diameter, and made of what appears to be white plastic. They are all the same, and there is nothing hanging from any of them. There are probably a hundred or so hangers all together. I look at them a moment, trying to imagine what they’re used for. There are little points hanging down from the tips of the bottom part, and I think perhaps they would hold a picture or something. I shrug, and decide I won’t be able to easily figure out what this is, and walk back toward the end of the room where I was heading.
When I get there, I realize that the doorway leads into a bathroom. I go into the bathroom, and straight ahead under the window is a huge garden tub with a few ancient pothos ivy plants around it, and a bunch of small statues in the tub. They are all similar sizes, a little less than a foot tall, but they range from super hero looking figures to very old native deity figures. They seem like their being in the tub has to do with the painting of the house. I look at them a little, especially one that seems like a Native American warrior spirit figure dancing, and then go out of the bathroom.
I walk out of the bedroom and into the main upstairs hallway, and there is a bunch of furniture piled here. It seems like the bed and dressers from the bedroom. I have decided that I want to find my lucid dreaming necklace. There is a woman here with curly dark hair; she looks like a Gypsy or someone from the Middle East. She has fair skin but exotic features. She has marks on her face that look like ashes or ink; I can’t tell if they’re some sort of blemish or if she’s been working with something and smudged it on her face. I ask her if she’s seen my lucid dreaming necklace; it’s a silver pendant with a red stone. I have a vivid image of it, it is about an inch across, with a large reddish stone in the center that looks like a garnet. She shakes her head to tell me that she hasn’t seen it; she looks at me like she not only hasn’t seen it, but doesn’t know who I am. She walks away, or just fades.
I go into another bedroom, and this one appears to have all its furniture in place. I have an impression of diamonds on the bed; I think it’s a quilt. I am talking to someone here, but don’t remember who; this part of the dream seems to have gotten fuzzy. I keep hearing a hissing air noise that repeats in short bursts; I look around and find that it is a white machine situated behind the dresser; it has tubing coming out of it, and reminds me of the air pump for a large aquarium. [note: I think this may have been one of the dogs in real life, perhaps Taco coughing.] Once I realize what the noise is coming from, it stops. As I’m leaned over looking at the pump, the Nova Dreamer lights flash in my eyes, and I am momentarily blinded by them. It seems like my dreamscape is fading. I decide to spin to retain my dream state, and so I spin vigorously, telling myself out loud as I’m doing so, “I’m going to be in a completely different place; I’m going to stay dreaming, but in a different place.”
When I stop spinning, I find myself in a building which is also entirely devoid of furniture or wall decoration. This one is much larger in scale, though; it seems more like a church or school than a house. The doors are about 12 feet tall and the ceilings are much higher. The carpet is an industrial type, and a sort of olive gray. The place kind of seems creepy, although it may just be because it is unoccupied. I run from the corner where I find myself to the door in the opposite wall; it seems like my actions are accelerated, like I’m moving faster than I really can. It has an almost jittery feel to it. I become conscious of the bedroom, and wake. *end*