Excavations
The change of employ has led to a new variety of dreams - excavations, wet, grey, digging pits and trenches into the earth, no purpose or explanation provided, grey, wet, cold...
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- Category: Dreams
Mechanical Sparrow
I've charged my daughter with looking after 3 pairs of pets, there's a pair of Guinea Pigs, a pair of (?? forget...), and a pair of sparrows, and somehow she's fucked up and one of each pair dead....I'm furious, smack her hard across the face and then discover the surviving sparrow is engaged in a duel to the death with a small mechanical sparrow, a medieval tin automaton that's battling it with a sword, I look to my daughter and her face is swelling and I feel bad about hitting her...
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- Category: Dreams
of Anna in Calgary
I dreamed that Anna was in Calgary, she'd been living here for about a year. I meant to see her, to get together, but somehow it never happened even though she lived just around the corner and so one day while we were chatting on the phone she tells me that she's moving, Missouri or someplace, and suddenly I'm filled with an urgency to see her, get together, rushing to rearrange my schedule to fit her in...
(note: this is a curious inversion of the "lost in London-not-London" dreams I frequently have, wherein I'm searching for Anna in a London that's not as I remember...)
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- Category: Dreams
Stolen Da Vinci
I've stolen a Da Vinci. The details elude me, a private collector, a variation of the Madonna on the Rocks in a polychrome frame that would look more appropriate on a Picasso, but this isn't a typical Da Vinci, it's brightly coloured as well, and I've hung it above the bed next to a painting by my friend Milan.
I'm living in my Parent's basement. I've no worries that they'll recognize it, hiding, as it were, in plain sight, but Milan, my friend, in signing the painting he gave me somehow made a mistake and signed across the front of the Da Vinci, and now there's no way for me to return it even if I wanted to.
Milan drops by to visit. He's horrified that I have this, the stolen painting, and then my Mother enters bringing me a half litre of wine. For breakfast. I would have preferred coffee, but her visit is just a pretext to ask me about some obscure plot point in a book I'd written about Hellboy. "All will be revealed" I tell her. Milan has taken the precaution of hiding the Madonna beneath his own painting, a ridiculous, terrified grin upon his face...
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- Category: Dreams
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