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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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So, a couple of days back to work, I'm not done everything I'd hoped, done more than I expected, but not enough, never enough. And work, the restaurant not yet open, the deep clean, hours on end scrubbing and wiping down tables, chairs, blinds, oiling wood and scrubbing floors, always longer than you expect, the dreaded deep-clean.
Aches and pains, I'm not used to this, it's been a sedentary 3 weeks off, this bending double for hours on end, scrubbing, it's hurting parts of me that I'd forgotten existed.
After work, home, painstaking drawings, neither good but not so bad, "Good Enough" I tell myself, it'll have to do, ...
Outside, raining, the weather constant above zero, a foot of snow and in the same day enough rain to wash it all away, the snow that remains on the driveway is dense as water, shovel it up, the ice will melt in a couple of hours, and there are the great wumps of snow falling from the roof, watching them fly past the window, grey against the black night, the sounds, on the roof, like animals, creatures stomping and slipping to the edge...
I consult my maps, there are new places to prospect, a hunch I'd had about a place, well, I found it, I was right, sort-of, maybe, only need a bit more of the snow to be gone and I can go to check it out, a week, maybe 2, if the warming trend continues. And I'm glad, at the moment, not to be in Calgary, 20 below and who gives a fuck...
Then there's the matter of the dreams, odd, rich - not always enjoyable, but there are enough parallels that I know my unconscious is trying to tell me something. But what? Consult the online dream dictionary for the interpretation of relevant symbols.
BOTH DREAMS A CAMERA, NOT WORKING: From the dream dictionary...
To dream that the camera is broken indicates that you are ignoring an issue or refusing to see the big picture.
To dream that you cannot find your camera to take a picture implies that you are not focusing on the matter at hand. Your attention is too easily diverted. Alternatively, the dream refers to forgotten memories.
But why, in both instances, the warnings about infringement of copyright and DRM? There's something there too, I'm sure...
MASKS:
To see someone wearing a mask in your dream denotes that you are struggling against deceit, falsehood, and jealousy.
Hmm. Not it, try again...
Try COSTUMES:
To dream that you are wearing a costume indicates that you are putting on a facade toward others. You do not want to reveal your true self and are not being completely honest with people around you.
Which makes more sense, a shame, as I was so enjoying it, but, yeah, it makes sense. It wasn't me in a costume, it was the town, and, yeah, I get it.
Now to the apartment, the new SNEAKERS/SHOES on the doorstep left by the neighbors:
To see new shoes in your dream suggest that you are overconfident in your success. Alternatively, you may be on a life path that is unfamiliar to you.
But combine this with GIFT:
To dream that you receive a gift indicates that you are being rewarded and recognized for your generosity and giving nature. You are held in high esteem by those around you.
To see a pile of gifts symbolizes unutilized or unrecognized skills and talents.
and the spilled SUGAR?
To see or eat sugar in your dream represents the pleasures and enjoyment that you are denying yourself in your life. Sometimes, you need to indulge yourself and not worry about the consequences.
Now to the second dream, the Camera, the same, the PARKADE, the surgeons bustling in the hospital - something going on in my subconscious, I'm being made aware of changes, ... this is merely my guess, but I'm thinking I don't need the dictionary for that one. But then the THERAPIST/Case Worker with the CLOWN sheet for me to color (and I recognized it, in the dream, as similar to a rough template I did of various clown faces for my kids book, because, like fuck, what kid doesn't love clowns?) - Well, the Therapist is a pretty direct manifestation of my subconscious, wondering - probably, just what the hell I'm doing with my waking life (hence the clown images under her arm).
To see or dream that you are in a parking structure suggests that you are going around in circles in some area of your life. You are feeling lost in what you want to do. If you cannot find your car, then it means that you have lost a little bit of yourself along the way toward your goals. You are turning into someone you dread or someone you don't know anymore.
To dream that you are at a thrift shop suggests that there are things from your past experiences that you can still learn from. Don't underestimate something that is seemingly worthless. The thrift shop may also symbolize ideas or skills that you have forgotten and can draw from in a current situation.
To see a therapist in your dream signifies wisdom from your subconscious. The therapist may appear to help you work through your problems, things that you are not seeing, or issues you are refusing to confront head on. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are lacking an outlet to express your feelings. You have no one to talk to and the dream therapy session may be a way to provide relief.
To see a clown in you dream symbolizes absurdity, light-heartedness, and a childish side to your own character. The countenance of the clown is a reflection of your own feelings and emotions. Whether it is a happy clown or a sad clown, that will help guide you through how you may be feeling. The actions of the clown signifies your uninhibited nature. Alternatively, a clown is an indication of your thoughtless or insincere actions.
My clowns are generally murderous. Just saying.
And the basement - the subconscious, treasures await to be found, I got that, then the lost in London-not-London, a common enough dream for me:
To dream that you are lost suggests that you have lost your direction in life or that you have lost sight of your goals. You may be feeling worried and insecure about the path you are taking in life. If you try to call for help, then it means that you are trying to reach out for support. You are looking for someone to lean on. Alternatively, being lost means that you are still adjusting to a new situation in which the rules and conditions are ever changing.
The landscape, the London-not-London, always familiar, I know my way around, know where I am, know where I am going, this place, it has no real corollary except in the pastiches and juxtapositions of my memory and head, yet I recognize it from dream to dream, recognize the people and places within it from other places I've lived, and I am not lost in that I don't know where I am, only in that I don't know how to get where I'm going...
Painstaking
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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ADJ: By which mediocrity through the exchange of time and effort attempts to attain some remedial level of talent or genius.
A wall buckling, OR Theatre, unable to take photos
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 895
Im in London-not-London staying with an old friend A***, a visit. And I've made my way out and about, somewhere on the King's road, walking down it towards my favorite thrift shop, I'm seldom here and want to check it out...
Across the street there's a brick wall, the side of a parkade, maybe 10 stories high, buckling and rippling and shaking, and I'm thinking there must be some construction, maybe a demolition, and I take out my phone to take a picture, only, just like the last dream, it won't let me, is prompting me with a graphic to buy an app, I need something more...
...Other people have stopped to watch as well, a portion of the middle of the wall falls away and I can see inside it's an operating theatre, there's surgeons in scrubs running everywhere, doctors, patient on tables, it wasn't a parkade after all, and it certainly wasn't planned, and I can't snap a photo, the vivid white lights, blue figures in the operating room juxtaposed against the quivering brick wall...
I'm annoyed but continue on, find my thrift shop, it's afternoon, I know everyone that works there, there's S***** from the ferry, big lady, and she's reading all these notebooks and I can see that their from my friend Batshit, must be a drop-off for me, only she's not giving them up until she's done reading them all she tells me and I'm hoping he didn't write anything unkind about her....
The rest of the staff, I know them as well, a pastiche of familiar thrift shop faces, familiar staff, and we chat, and I check out the display cases, nothing, want to go upstairs and explore in a couple of the other rooms only they give me to understand they're not open yet and I should just wait until they're ready and shut up, and so I sit down for a bit and wait and then, after they've opened explore that room, the main room, nothing, and head outside ...
Around the corner, at a bench, with the Batsh*t notebooks, sitting down and having a cigarette, I turn over a flyer, on it is the same graphic that was interrupting me when I was trying to take a photo. An older lady approaches...she's a few notebooks under her arm, on top a big picture of clowns, she's a psychiatrist or case-worker or something and she's checking up on me, sits with me, asks me how things are and she wants me to fill in the clown faces, color them, for my file, and I can recognize in her notebooks my handwriting, only I don't ever remember having a case worker or psychiatrist, and I certainly don't know her, why do I need help? And how did she get my handwriting anyways?....
...she's talking to me, jocular, knowingly, kindly, asking me if I'm "off the sauce", I don't know her and I'm saying that I've been generally off for a while and I can tell she doesn't believe me, she's telling me I look more jaundiced than healthy, that's why she asked, and then she leaves to go and...
...while she's gone I remember that I didn't go into the basement in that thrift shop, and that's where all the best stuff is, and then I begin thinking that I don't know my way home from here, don't know how to get to A***'s where I'm staying, and I'm confused...
****
Strange. Stuff percolating through, my unconscious is trying to get my attention about a few things for sure...the cameras not working, the places not the places, abundance of ex's, I might have to look these up, figure 'em out...Weird.
In Nelson-not-Nelson with N***
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 921
I'm in Nelson-Not-Nelson with N***, not Nelson in that it's somewhere outside Nelson, maybe Proctor or Harrup, only it's Nelson. And it's not in BC, it's a lot closer to Calgary, closer to Cochrane where N*** lived, only in a different direction, close around Calgary, anyways...
...we're walking down Baker Street, it's a beautiful late summer or fall evening, popping into shops, when we notice a parade of costumes coming down the street, Halloween costumes, and I'm wondering what's up, it's not Halloween yet, and I turn to ask somebody on a corner beside me what's going on when I see that he's wearing a too-small kid's Halloween costume as well, a skeleton or something, and I remember they do this here at the end of every month...
The parade, it's so charming, everyone all dressed up, and I dart into the street to take some pictures, only every time I go to snap a photo I get on my phone a message telling me that I can't, prompting me, warning me instead to download the video instead from the internet, only it's showing me Disney videos, silly animations, and telling me that I'm violating their copyright, although my photos are nothing like their videos...
She's (N***'s) telling me how much she likes this town, and I tell her, of course, that's why I live here, it's a beautiful, cool place, and she could have lived here too, it's not so far away from Calgary, from where she lives...
She gives me a ride home, an old apartment building, we go inside, climb up the stairs to the top floor, outside my door there's a heap of brand new white sneakers, piles, all sizes, and all the neighbors are there watching me, they donated them for me, sort of a welcome-to-the building present, and I thank them, there's got to be a dozen or two dozen pairs easy, and one of the neighbors ask if I'm going to use them all and I tell her no, help herself...
Into the apartment, old apartment, all my stuff is in the hall, and N*** is helping me unpack, bring stuff inside, I got boxes full of clothes, neckties, after the first load I get back into the hall and almost all of the sneakers have disappeared, the neighbor that asked, she took them all, and I'm a bit annoyed as I wouldn't have minded a few pairs to give away, and a good friend is there (*?? Who?) saying "you wouldn't have worn donated sneakers anyways.....".
I go outside to get some more clothes, belongings, at the door there's a bag of sugar, overturned, a bit of it spilled in the hall, and I'm annoyed, I look, see my son, much younger, and he apologizes and I berate him, he's done this before, I'm annoyed all out of proportion with the slightness of the misadventure, and he starts to bleed from his nose, don't know what happened, and I feel bad for berating him, but I've a right to be annoyed as well...
In the kitchen there are voices, N***, the neighbors, helping me unpack...
***
Note: Strange dream, longer than most, more complicated. After I wrote down I went back to bed and had a couple more - 1 with N***, the other - I think - without, but I didn't get up to write them down and so they're now forgotten.
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