-------------- BEGIN dream-flow.v001.n263 --------------
001 - "Wilkerson, Richard" <rcw - the barbimobile to little africa
002 - "Wilkerson, Richard" <rcw - Nicole A child's affair
003 - "Wilkerson, Richard" <rcw - Power symbol?
004 - "Wilkerson, Richard" <rcw - "Lilac" Sheala
Electric Dreams: Dream Flow
A fountain of dreams in Cyberspace
--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n263.1 ---------------
From: "Wilkerson, Richard" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: the barbimobile to little africa
Date: Wed, 15 Mar 2000 16:32:36 -0800
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Note: Stan requests his name and address be kept with the dream.
DATE : 14 mar 2000 07:14
DREAM : the barbimobile to little africa
=( i went to bed really early last night, barely midnight. i had been
tired all day, not having slept well and waking up early with the
alarm. when i got to class, i found out that the early morning lab had
been postponed and no one changed the schedule. i never recovered all day,
so went to bed and got to sleep without much trouble. i woke several times
during the night, but never for long. )=
rosie and mick welter are old family friends of my parents. i have just
been on a trip to australia with them, not getting back to their home in
ohio. i feel like i should go on to stay with my mother at her house, but
rosie has convinced me to stay on for a day or two to help them get
settled. after being with them for so many days on this vacation, i can
not see why not.
the house we are staying in is a large, flat spread out affair. the
furnishings all modern, chrome and glass. there is a heated indoor
swimming pool, but i do not indulge just yet in a swim.
rosie has a cellular phone which i try to call my mother to tell her where
i am, but everytime i start to dial, i get some telemarketer trying to sell
me some insurance or useless product. i ask her if there is some trick to
getting the phone to work.
"not that i know about." she answers me. "you can eventually get it to
clear and give you a dial tone if you put the cradle on speaker phone and
do this." she clicks the base to conference call, and holds the microphone
pickup over the speaker. a loud feedback squeal comes
through. "eventually they hear this on the other end and hang up." seems a
bit much to go through, i think.
after i try the feedback and attempt to dial my mother several times, i
give up. the cellular thing is just not going to work.
rosie comes over with a sizzling skillet. "try this." she tells me. "this
is what i have learned to make with my emails." in the black iron skillet
are maybe a dozen email packets, printed, folded in ravioli sized squares
and sauteed in a meat and cheese marinara sauce. with a fork she has handed
me, i eat a couple of the packets. the sauce is good, like a lasagna but
the email ravioli still have the taste and consistency of paper. not a
very good attempt, perhaps they needed to be cooked longer until soft. i
understand that rosie is trying to recycle her email, but does not seem to
grasp that she does not need to print it out at all. the email is still on
the hard disk taking up space no matter what we do to the hardcopy.
"that one is special." she says pointing to an email ravioli standing up
on the side of the skillet. i spear it with my fork and eat it. hm, this
one is a little better with a stronger flavor of oregano and a consistency
more like pasta and less like paper. the ink gives it a strange aftertaste
though.
rosie's husband, mick, says "come on mommy. let's go out to grab a bite to
eat."
after a short drive through a part of columbus, ohio, that i am unfamiliar
with, we come to pizza restaurant on the edge of a lake. it is just about
sundown, the sky colored with reds and purples.
inside it is a little too warm in the way that pizza parlors are with their
big ovens going all the time. mick orders and we sit to wait. he picks up
a ketchup container and tentatively squirts a splot of ketchup toward
me. he and my father used to enjoy little food fights like this. i take
up a yellow mustard container and splurt a good sized glob toward him.
after a little while of give and take, me hitting him more than he hitting
me, i put up my hands for a cease fire. i decide i will go outside for
some fresh air while waiting.
it is now dark and the quiet slapping of the water gives a peaceful
atmosphere to the lake shore. i do not get too far when i find the body of
a black man laying near the water. at first i wonder if he is asleep, but
then i see that he has been dismembered, his face laying on its side near
the remainder of the body. quickly i backtrack away from this scene.
on my way back into the restaurant i think about calling the police to
report an apparent crime. but i see two men pass me, heading toward the
body carrying large duffel bags. i try to be inconspicuous, but they seem
to notice me anyway. apparently a mob cleanup crew called in after the
enforcers have done their work.
back inside i go up to tell mick and rosie that we ought to get out of
here, but the pizza has just gotten there and they are settled in. well,
maybe the problem outside will just blow over without concerning
us. still, i think we ought to ask for a take out box.
before i can suggest it, two young women come in, instantly taking command
of the place by waving small automatic weapons, probably uzi. the women,
hardlsy more than girls maybe 18 years old, are dressed in odd clothes that
somehow manage to make a fashion statement by mismatching. one of them has
hair dyed a hot neon pink, while the other has blue streaks with a frizzy
perm. "you all be good and no one needs to get hurt."
i try to be small and unnoticed by going over to railing to blend in with
some other people gathered there. on the other side of the railing is a
drop to a second lower level of the restaurant. if i can get down there i
will be further separated from the scene. i swing over the side and let
myself down.
the girl with the pink hair has seen me, and follows me over the rail. but
she is not lucky on landing and falls down, dropping her gun. i could go
for the gun, but decide it is not worth it. i feel rather sorry for her
clumsiness which seems out of character. so i push the gun back over to
her and try to help her get up and recover her composure which had been so
solid and competent before the spill.
once she has her weapon back, she points it at me. "you are coming with
us." i can not tell if this is because they were sent inside to get me for
seeing the crime scene with the body, or if she is just trying to save face
after i was kind to her. either way, she has decided that i am taken hostage.
in the parking lot, she transfers control of me to the blue haired one.
"you put him in the car, gidge." i assume that 'gidge' is short for
gidgette. she sticks a gun barrel in my ribs. "come with me, and do not
attract any attention to us."
as we walk, she takes my arm to put around her, like we are a couple just
walking to our car, the gun still jammed in my side. i get the idea and
sort of like it, so i squeeze her side. she has a lean firm feel that i
like even more.
"hey." she yells. "not so hard. you men are all alike. don't know how
to treat a woman." i do not know what she means, but i lighten up on the
feel. "always trying to take what is not given." she mutters, but i can
tell that she did not mind as much as she is protesting.
when we arrive at the car in the dark, it is a large pink hearse. cool,
what a nice machine. gidge opens a side door in back for me to get, but i
find it a little too small for me to get in. i go around back and open the
large door where the coffin was to slide and get in that way.
the interior of the hearse has been remodeled in red shag carpet and
frosted pink mohair lining. there are barbi dolls and barbi accessories
everywhere. "oh, wow. a barbimobile." i say in admiration as gidge gets
into the driver seat and starts the engine.
she drives over to the pink haired one who has been waiting at the entrance
of the restaurant, keeping everyone inside at bay. "time to go,
billie" gidge yells to her partner.
"this one been good?" billie asks as she gets in, waving her gun in my
direction.
"well, sort of." gidge answers with a slightly wicked grin. "not too good."
we begin driving through the streets with no apparent sense of
destination. i fiddle with one of the barbi dolls hanging on an string
near one of the engraved side windows. a malibu barbi, one of the classics.
billie notices. "hey, what are doing with the doll?"
"nothing. i always liked barbi as a doll."
"why is that?"
"well, she is one of the few, maybe only, cross generation toys we
have. your mother played with dolls just like this. when i was a boy my
first toy was a set of cowboy pistols with a holster belt. hopalong
cassidy cap guns. the boys today play with ray guns or commando
weapons. nothing like the ones i had. only barbi has remained almost
unchanged since 1963."
billie smirks. "yea, well she has that unrealistic body shape."
"you missed the point there. does donald duck look like a duck? mickey
mouse is not a very good body shape for a mouse. what about elmer fudd as
a human? no one complains that they are setting unrealistic body
images. the usual direction of distortion in child art is called
'infantilization'. big heads, short necks, short pudgy arms and legs, eyes
too big. the proportions are made more like an infant to suggest child
like play. barbi was the first to stretch the proportions in the other
way. the 'hyperadult' model to emphasize how grown up barbi is. head too
small, neck legs and arms too long, big firm hooters to hang the clothing
on. by having a shape that continues the growth pattern beyond adult, it
suggests that the play is along grown up themes. so buying clothes and
matching accessories, hanging around with the emasculated ken-- child art
intensifies reality to play with, not just copies how it is. dolls with
real woman proportions stunt the imagination."
gidge smiles. "i knew there was more to barbi than they told us." i do
not mention that my favorite is gymnast barbi. she has jointed knees which
can bend so to better accommodate ken in dickless sex. priapal imagery has
almost disappeared from human culture and certainly from child play,
favoring a romantic love that ends with a kiss.
billie seems less impressed, pulling at her hair like cotton candy. "yeah?
well, quit playing with the dolls." she indicates a turn off leading down
to the river.
the river is deep, channeled into canals, water dark gray and running fast
near to flood stage. still, i have seen many rivers recently that were
much worse than this. gidge parks the barbimobile and we all get
out. several tugs without barges are on the river, scooting downstream
with the rapid current. there is a third woman waiting here with a metal
scoop on the dock next to the canal.
the third woman indicates that i should get into the scoop and she pushes
us off into the current. gidge and billie remain behind doing something to
the hearse. the scoop is not really a boat, but manages to stay afloat for
a while. eventually one of the eddies is too tall for the front edge and
the scoop swamps and sinks. but the third woman had steered in toward a
dock on the other side and we have to swim the last few yards into the
quiet lee side.
when we climb up on the dock, she says "we have made it to little
africa." billie and gidge come along soon, also swimming the harsh
current. apparently they do this all the time.
gidge looks a little down about something, her wet blue hair stringing down
as she won't hold up her head. i hear billie step behind me and say "ok, i
will do it."
i turn around and see that billie has her gun pointed at my back, ready to
shoot me. "wait a minute." i say. "what was the point it abducting me if
you are just going to kill me anyway? it makes no sense."
billie shrugs in agreement. "who says we have to make sense? girls just
want to have clean fun. no mess. no leftovers."
"shooting me makes a mess. i had hoped for better."
"right." she smirks in reluctant agreement. she hands me the gun and a
single bullet for a reload. "you will need this if you are going to get
out of little africa."
=( i wake at 06:45 without an alarm, but not sleepy. i lay awake for while
before getting up to type this in. i really do not have much association
with these contents. the welters are my mother's long time friends from
ohio. i do not know these girls with the bright hair. )=
. [EMAIL PROTECTED]
=== true, i talk of dreams,
| | the brain's idle children
--- --mercutio
--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n263.2 ---------------
From: "Wilkerson, Richard" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: Nicole A child's affair
Date: Wed, 15 Mar 2000 16:50:26 -0800
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Dream Title Nicole A child's affair
Date of Dream 8;ooa.m./ March 15th
Dream I dreamed that I was about 12 and that I was
sneaking with another 12 your old male. I am female. I hugged him in the
bathrooom of some house and we were hiding from my parents. I liked the
dream. He had blonde hair.It felt great. I am now 25 years old. What does
this mean?
Comments by Dreamer I keep dreaming about forbidden romance. Why is that?
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--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n263.3 ---------------
From: "Wilkerson, Richard" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: Power symbol?
Date: Wed, 15 Mar 2000 18:21:06 -0800
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Dream Title Power symbol?
Date of Dream Mar1, 2000
Dream A small portion of my dream sticks in my head like
an electric flash-back. I am in a play ground some kind of activity is
happening by the swings. I notice an object falling from the sky. It is
dark brown I reach up and grasp it. It is an eagle feather that is
magnificently long and the base is shaped in a hollow triangle, thick
enough to grasp easily in my fist. As I bring the feather down to eye
level the triangle transforms into the head and shoulders of a
bird. Cream coloured with peach coloured upper breast, it is alive it's
eye lid opens and closes. I am not upset in fact I just am curious. The
dark brown feather is attached to the back of the front half of the bird,
and it lives even though more than half of it is missing. I awake puzzled
and the vision has stayed clearly with me for 2 weeks or so. This type of
thing happens to me often, the image does not release me until I have
painted it. I paint my dreams ( oil ) they average about!
!
3ft by 4 ft some are much bigger. It is a fascinating experience. Thanks
Comments by Dreamer
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--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n263.4 ---------------
From: "Wilkerson, Richard" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: "Lilac" Sheala
Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 11:01:17 -0800
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Dream Title "Lilac" Sheala
Date of Dream March 16, 2000
Dream I was inside a white 2story house that was not
mine at night and looked out towards the back yard. The ground was covered
in snow and the stars shined brightly overhead. I walked outside, very
distraught about something. I called out a question of "WHY?" and looking
down into the snow, the answer to my question began to form. As if written
by an unseen hand. The words were huge, spanning each letter 6" apart. I
cant recall the answer to the first question. I began conversing with the
words written in the snow. Asking question after question and getting
answers written in the snow. I walked back into the house, learned that my
grandmother had died(got a flash of seeing her in a long red dress and
leaving to go jogging) and walked back out to the snow. I didnt say a word
but "it" seemed to recognize I was upset. The words "WHO, WHERE, WHEN" were
written out and I said that my grandmother had died. It answered to me why,
that she wanted to go, that she wa!
!
s ready. I asked who "it" was. It answers in a huge mural. Colors bleeding
into the snow, spreading across and down. Hearts, roses, thorns painted in
the snow everywhere. I seemed to grasp that it was saying it was "the
mother of all center" and then I translated it to "Lilac". I went back into
the house, and seemingly the next day there was a man at the window looking
out at a bush laying across the snow. He said to me "the bush is talking to
you" I walked out and went to the bush laying down and tried to talk to it
but it wouldnt talk back.
Then I woke up.
Comments by Dreamer My grandmother has not died, and I felt neither
frightened or comforted by the dream. I always dream extremely vivid and
detailed, almost feeling plagued by them the last 20 yrs.
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--------------- END dream-flow.v001.n263 ---------------
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