Wednesday, January 8, 2014

David Carradine's Christmas Gala

Last night, I dreamed that David Carradine was a part time Shaolin monk/ theatre owner and part time blind mobster.  ( I was sad when I checked online to make sure I was spelling his name correctly to discover that Mr. Carradine passed away in 2009.)

In my dream, I worked at his theatre company.  We had just finished our Christmas production and it had been a huge success.  Being a mobster, he had plenty of money to throw at his shows, so they were amazingly extravagant productions.  The theatre could comfortably sit over 2000 people and there was no such thing as bad seating.  You could see and hear the show from any spot.  He'd brought in almost a dozen real 50 ft pine trees to decorate the lobby.  And every night, the show had been sold out.  People would be talking about it all year long.

When he was at the theatre, he was always dressed in his orange robes, was very quiet except when he was directing or running a production meeting, and spent a great deal of time in his zen garden.  When my visual perspective changed, I realized he was sometimes in there meditating, and sometimes in there getting ready to switch to his out of theatre role as a blind mobster, complete with pin stripe suit.  The change was so radical, no one ever noticed that they were the same guy.  Either that or it was like Superman's curl and glasses.  In either case, no one except his driver knew that he was both men.

It was time to take the show down.  Mr. Carradine was in his Model T switching roles mentally when his driver warned him suddenly that he needed to remember he was blind.  And a rival mobster suddenly threw his arm into the window and snapped in Mr. Carradine's face.  He played the blind well, but pointed out to the fool that he wasn't deaf, thank you.  Then the car drove away.  And suddenly the rest of the rival group showed up in another model T and fired a single shot from a tommy gun (They were concerned with not hitting innocent by standards and weren't out to kill the driver-- it wasn't his fault he had poor taste in employers.) that pierced the windshield and struck Mr. Carradine in the upper right chest.  The driver did not stop the car but took him immediately to the theatre.  The bullet had only ruined his $10,000 dollar suit.  Being a monk, he'd concentrated and stopped the bullet from penetrating his skin.  He changed into his orange and acted like nothing had happened.

I was the first into the now empty post show theatre and it was strike day.  I got the lights on and started gathering up Christmas ornaments.  Once everyone else showed up, I had to smile.  It was all my theatre friends, from both universities.  I considered joining the costumers as they were literally having to climb over mounds of fabric and costumes and laughing and having such a good time, but between the two schools, there were over a dozen of them and they had it well in hand.  We could visit at the stike party.  And so I was relegated to props.  And there were a LOT of them.  I anticipated it would take me a week just to clear the ornaments.

Thank goodness I woke up before I had to do all that!

And here's a quick sketch for the dream:  Mr. Carradine in the pinstripe suit holding one of the ornaments I was holding in my dream just before I woke up.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Tinker Toys and Too Much TV

Last night, I dreamed that Mark and I were teamed together competing against others on a universe wide, televised, time traveling/ transporter traveling style game show, very much in the vein of a futuristic version of "The Amazing Race" (...which is particularly amusing to me while I'm awake because as we finished watching the one and only episode of The Amazing Race I've ever seen, and that poor couple had to eat an entire pot of cheese fondu, I leaned in close to my honey and whispered, "You'd be better off taking your other best friend on this kind of adventure.  I wouldn't suit."  And he agreed.)

So anyway, in the dream, we'd followed the clues and raced around mountains and uphill to an enormous cage.  We figured out the key code (which is good because you only had three tries to get it right) and rushed into the cage, leaving the door wide open.  Inside, we discovered it was full of green and white metal bits that looked like roll bars and tinker toys had had an industrial love child.

Our team was assigned to the green and the married couple we were competing against in this round were assigned to the white. We realized we needed to assemble the green bits into what would resemble a shark cage. As we started to assemble it, the other team showed up. Now it was a race against time.

We could sabotage them by hiding their pieces (as we were already in the big cage) but chose not to, as it would take build time away from our own cage.  Why they didn't come through our already open cage door is still baffling me.  They were on their third code try and almost disqualified before they created a second opening in the enormous cage, but the rules never said they couldn't just use ours and it was basically two doors into one large open space.  Just as they started to assemble their shark cage, we placed the last corner piece of ours into place.

We entered ours and were instantly transported to a country club in Florida where we and other winners who had completed the previous rounds were sold time shares and our homes were instantly transported here for the next round.  We had to use Flintstone like technology (with rocks and ropes and pullies) to turn our houses into medieval castles complete with moats, dropping gates and draw bridge.

Our time in the SCA gave us an advantage and we also won this round.  Suddenly our house transformed into a real castle, except now the medieval style drop gate at the front door was activated by the push button on our car keys. We were joking that you could just dash out the front door, hop into the car for work and start to pull out of the driveway, when you realized, "Oh no! I forgot to close the door!" (Push the button) and the gate instantly closed, "Tada!"

As we laughed at the funniness of us, we climbed into our car and drove around the golf course looking for the exit...There wasn't one ....and we realized we might be trapped in these time and space hopping rounds of games.

Before this thought could turn my adventure game dream into a horrible nightmare, I thankfully woke up.

And because this dream doesn't prompt me to want to draw anything, here's a visual for what turning our house into a castle felt like (:

Sunday, January 5, 2014

First Dream of 2014

Last night I dreamed that we were in a desert where a sentient plant used cactus spores and needles to gather information. I was new to the area and they rained down on me and I plucked the little barbs from my skin, surprised because I can still remember removing real cactus barbs, so thin they were like silk, from my fingers as a child and how painful it was. 

I asked a local desert tribal person about them, as I noticed more barbs sticking from my breast and a strange little pimple just above my heart. I gently squeezed it, and a shower of barbs shot forth like an exploding zit, raining upwards harmlessly from my heart. Whom ever I was asking informed me that for their people, to be rained upon by the desert barbs was incredibly painful and many did not survive. And that the decorative scarring that marked their elders were from repeated exposures. But that clearly, my heart either was free of secrets, or because I was a stranger to these lands, the sentient cactus could not read and understand mine and so the needles fled my skin. 

Then, I was at a video arcade/ under ground coal mine survival hatch/ research facility with my children. We had to compete in a series of parkour type runs. But the facility would cheat. Sometimes, your assigned course would cut off and you couldn't reach out to activate your final button. I was currently viewing the run from the perspective of my oldest son, competing against me. (I had already viewed this race from my perspective, and it was a bit of a whirl wind at the end, so I wanted to see how it had turned out that I had won when I hadn't pushed my button.) 

It turns out that from his perspective, the course had cheated him. The last wall ramp section had been removed on his side and there was no final button for him. He could see me across the cavern making my way to the long ramp he had already climbed, and so he threw himself across the impossibly wide gap, catching my final hand hold where his was not, and pushing my button to show that he had still won. I was proud of him, though the facility was not pleased at his cleverness.

Suddenly, I was back to my perspective, and I watched as my sons played the final level which I watched play out on a monitor in front of me like a video game. There was nothing outside of that handheld, my focus was entirely on it.

It was a war of rats that glossed the screen attacking each other with swords. First it was one or two, then half a dozen each, then hundreds, thousands, millions, swarming the screen as though trapped behind the glass, rending each other...or implied rending each other, as it was apparently a "G" rated game so you didn't see any blood or gore. At that point, I realized that I had a button I could push to limit and reduce the winning number of rats to eight and end this round. I pushed it and the game immediately ended, then I woke up.

Decided that for 2014, I'll do quick sketches for my dreams, so here's the first dream sketch of 2014 (: