What the soul looks like

We were all preparing for a presentation about how artists capture and represent the soul.  They had tried to get someone very famous – I think it was Seamus Heaney – but the soul he'd captured (his mother) was too big and hard to show.  So instead, we were using illustrative examples rather than real samples.

They decided that more of us needed to participate in the presentation, so instead of just a few of us going, they asked everyone in the school to come.  We queued up, and loaded into three giant school buses.  I kept moving from seat to seat, trying to find an open spot.

While we were on the bus, though, something happened.  At first we all thought it was a hurricane or a tornado – wind was blowing, bushes were flying through the air – but then someone shouted, "Look!  There she is!" and there was a colossal woman stomping through the countryside.  She looked like a little old granny, like the one who owns Tweety Bird, except for being more than forty feet tall.  I suddenly understood that it was Seamus Heaney's soul released.  Our presentation was, needless to say, cancelled.

We all piled off the bus.  There was a man there herding his goats back behind a gate, and I stopped to talk to him.  He seemed unfazed by the giant lady who had crashed through his meadow; he was very calm about helping his goats back into the field.  A young man (who looked like a young Daniel Radcliffe, so I'll call him Harry) was with me, and he casually plucked a leaf off a bush that the goats were nibbling at.  We walked with the goat-herd towards a large, ornate building and Harry popped the leaf into his mouth and ate it.  Before we got to the door, Harry's lips started to turn blue and he said, "I can't breathe!  What's going on?"  The goat-herd said, "I figured this would happen, though I didn't know it would go so quickly.  It's because of the leaf you ate.  It has traces of arsenic in it."  Harry collapsed to the ground, and died.

We pulled his body into the building, which turned out to be a library.  The room was filled with burgundy leather chairs and heavy, antique books and black and golden velvet couches.  Someone approached and took Harry's body away.  I sat on the plush couch, taken aback by the turn of events.

The person who'd taken away Harry's body returned quickly and handed me a clear plastic form, molded into the shape of a head.  Inside the head container was a hard object rattling around.  When I peered at it more closely, I realized that it was Harry's jaw that they'd cut out of the corpse, and tucked into this container for me.  I found it grisly, but knew it would be rude to refuse it.  I said, "Thank you.  I'm sure his family will be grateful for this."

I asked out loud if anyone expected his soul to be around, and it was explained to me that it was too soon.  One of the teachers idly picked up a book he'd been looking at – not one of the heavy antique books, but a small bedraggled paperback book.  He flipped it open to where he'd dog-eared the page, and out popped a tiny Harry (just from the waist up, as though he was sitting at a desk).  The teacher said, "A ha!  Not too soon at all!  I guess we will be taking this Calvin Trillin book with us!"  He smiled and handed it to me.

Laden with the plastic head containing Harry's jaw and the beat-up novel containing Harry's soul, I left the library.  I knew that I had enough now to bring Harry back.

Falling Stars

I was helping my Aunt Pam bring her suitcase down; there was a narrow staircase and a metal thing that was too small to be an elevator, but too big to be a dumbwaiter.  After I got the luggage, I led Aunt Pam to the information center, which was inside a really lovely building.  There were tall windows surrounded by ornate, old-fashioned, polished wood frames, and large glass cases with displays in them.  It felt more like the reading room at New York Public Library (the one with the lions) than a tourist information center.

We decided, while we were there, to do some arts and crafts.  I had some seasonal styrofoam creations I'd made -- a snow man, a heart.  Before I could focus on finishing those, though, I decided that I needed to clean up from the previous crafter's project, so I started picking up buttons off the floor.  There were dozens and dozens, maybe even hundreds, of colored buttons all over the floor, and I was contemplating keeping them to make a different project with.

I realized that Aunt Pam was no longer in the room, so I went to find her.  She was standing on the street, outside the fancy info center / crafting station, asking passersby if they wanted to buy her subscription to Law Weekly.  It turned out she needed some cash to get to New York, where she was going to be staying at Thing, the newest and best hotel in the city.  I gave her some money, and she walked off, apparently New York-bound.

I went back into the craft room, and two women were there, actively ignoring me.  They were jabbering on with each other, making a mess, undoing the neatening up that I had done, and worse, destroying my seasonal styrofoam decorations with their carelessness.  I tried to confront them about it, but they were so studious in their ignoring me that I gave up and left, leaving behind my now-broken snowman.

I went down to the subway platform to head over to meet David.  I kept trying to text him and phone him, but continually misdialed.  The train arrived, I got on, then was suddenly at the little restaurant we were supposed to meet at.

The restaurant was tiny -- only two rooms.  The vibe was pure hipster, and I felt uncomfortable.  Suddenly I got a text from India, saying, "Do you see what's happening in Maine?!?!"  I had no idea what she was talking about, and looked on Facebook.  There were tons of posts about the star that was falling, crossing Maine.  I ran outside and looked up, and there was a huge star, shooting across the sky.  Huge.  Like, in real life, I've never seen something so big in the sky.  I only knew it was a star because I'd been told that it was, but it looked like a moon -- a rocky orb the size of a stadium -- zooming across the sky.

I called in to the hipsters in the restaurant, "Come quick!  You're going to miss it!" but they didn't get outside fast enough.  The star shot over my head, and I turned in time to see it crash into the bay of water below.  (I was high above the bay, as though we were up on a cliff).  Instantly, the water started to boil, then steam, then all the water was gone.  There was a crater where the star had landed, and the rest of the bed of the bay was dry and cracked, like the Playa at Burning Man.  (Or, come to think of it, like photo in my blogspot profile pic...)

Joan

In last night's dream, I was back working for Joan.  She wasn't exactly doing theatre -- it was more like packaging, some advertising, some film, some television, a total hodge-podge. But she looked great and was bustling around, making phone-calls, calling out commands to people across the office, always on the move. I followed her as she traveled, trying to keep up and scribbling notes, and thinking to myself, "I'm so glad I was wrong, and that you aren't dead after all."

Houses, Wedding, Work

In last night's dream, we went to our new place. (In real life, it's been recently renovated, and is quite pleasant.)  The walls were either ripped out or ragged or nonexistent.   I realized we had to figure out, quickly, how to make the place livable before we moved in.  I suggested we contact the person who redid our kids' preschool, and asked the folks who were with us if they had any good ideas.  I realized that, though I thought there were only two bathrooms, there were actually three, and one was totally decimated.  I knew that what we'd gotten was not what we'd signed up for, but also knew we couldn't get out of it.

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Also dreamed that I had decided to go work for McKinsey & Co.  I wasn't very excited about it, and knew that I was taking a demotion.  It was proved out when I went to my first meeting, which was a presentation by Ellen DeGeneres. I was excited about it, until I got there, and realized that I was supposed to be, basically  the usher.  Handing out programs, directing people to their seats.  When they were all seated, Ellen was going to deliver an inspirational speech (which she did do).  At the end, she asked me how I came to join McKinsey.  I told her that I just felt lucky that I had worked in theatre, so I could read a ticket and figure out where  person was supposed to be sitting. (And I now I remember that there was some oddness with the seating  e.g., a person was seated in C4, and it was to the stage left of C1 and 3, as though they'd realized after the fact that they had to add extra seats in the same row.

Just remembered that also in the Ellen thing, I--or maybe it was later, when I was trying to do salesmanship in the odd shop?)--was chewing gum, and i twas pulling out my teeth  as per usual, and I was thinking, "Ugh, now my teeth are coming out like they always do in my dreams."

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Also dreamed that Leslie Schaffer was a designer, and was making me a shirt that I'd wear to represent my wedding (to some unknown swain), which is to say the shirt had, as cutouts and quilted over and stitched in, images of the wedding dress and tux on the sleeves of the shirt.  She was also going to make the wedding dress and groom's outfit   The shirt that she made, I thought (at first  was completely wrong...mis-sized and uncomfortable and not at all what I was thinking   So I want to see her, and she explained that I was wearing it wrong.  I had my head through the sleeve-hole, and everything else when wrong from there.

Sleeping at work

In last night's dream, I got to the office to discover that people were clearing out the cubicle next to mine.  (In real life, the colleague who occupies that cube is taking a personal leave, and has been out of the office for more than a month.)  They were removing the desk, the files, everything.  Then my colleague appeared, and she was transformed: she had lost weight, her skin was glowing, she looked peaceful and healthy.

I said, "Wow!  You look great!  What's going on around here?"  She explained that she had found a new job, one that was better, more flexible, closer to home, easier to do.  She told me that she weighed only 100 lbs now; I was shocked, she was pleased.  She took her personal things and left.

My manager showed up, and explained that since there was an empty cube in between our cubicles now, we'd be able to move cots into our cubes.  I decided to put in bunk beds in mine.

My best friend and her family came by; I showed them where I work, and the new layout with the bunk beds.  We had planned to go out to eat, but she explained that, unfortunately, there had been a change of plans and they had to leave.  I got angry, and said, "Oh FINE!" in a petulant tone.  I decided the best thing for it would be to take a nap on my new bunk bed.

I curled up on the bottom bunk, and tried to go to sleep.  I felt uncomfortable, and pressed, and gave up on trying to sleep.  When I climbed out of the bed, I saw that the top bunk had collapsed down, nearly crushing the bottom bunk.  My best friend was sitting in a chair, waiting for me.  I said, "I thought you said you had to leave?"  She said, "They had to leave; I have been waiting for you.  I thought when you were done with your nap that we could go get something to eat."  I felt silly for having made a fuss.

Crash Test Dummy

In last night's dream, I went into the kitchen first thing in the morning, and there, standing by the kids' easel, was a life-size, bright red (kind of Spiderman colored), animate crash test dummy.  It turned to look at me when I walked in the room.  I knew that it was my daughter's, and also knew that it would just take up too much room in the kitchen; it would be in the way as I bustled around trying to make lunches.

I said to it, "Well, you can't stand THERE.  Why don't you go lie down in the top bunk?"  It started shambling off in that direction, but I stopped it.  "No, you can't go there.  You'll startle the kids if they don't know you're up there.  Why don't you go down to the basement?  You can stay in the storage space for now."  And off it went.

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Later, I was at an outdoor track, watching sprint races.  There was live music, and I was having a great time listening and watching the racers.  Suddenly, though, the music sounded very familiar, and really good.  I turned, and it was Mark Knopfler, playing guitar.  I was wowed, and went and sat beside him on the bleachers.  As he played, I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying the amazing music.

Who's in charge, here?

In last night's dream, my 4-year-old son picked me up in the yellow station wagon.  Since he was having a little trouble seeing over the steering wheel, I agreed that he could sit on my lap while he drove.  It seemed reasonable; there clearly wasn't a car seat in there, anyway.

We pulled up to a stop and went into a medical clinic.  We were joined in the elevator by an EMT, who turned to me after the doors slid shut.  "What do you think you're doing, out there, putting that kid's life at risk?" he said.  I was dumbstruck.

Then, suddenly, the elevator tipped to its side, then over again, then over again.  It was like being in a huge, slow-motion washing machine.  Finally, the elevator stopped turning, and the doors slid open.  The EMT got out, and gave me a "I hope you learned your lesson" glare.  I glared back.  I took my son's hand, and we walked on.

Escape from Camp / College

In last night's dream, I was at some combination of summer camp and college:  the surroundings were tall stone gothic buildings and lovely landscaped grounds, but the activities were standing on cafeteria benches and singing, and being silly with kids of all ages.

As I was packing up to leave (folding sheets and towels, trying to remember how I had packed them in the first place, wondering if I'd need to get a garbage bag to stuff everything in), I saw, from the corner of my eye, a streak of light.  I looked out the window of the tall stone tower I was in, and saw a fireball explode on the ground right beside our tower.  I said, "We've got to get out of here."

My companion (a person I was in sixth grade with, and haven't seen since...) and I scrambled down the winding staircase and burst out into the courtyard.  There were cars lining the circular driveway.  We looked around, panicked, not sure what to do next.

Then someone who seemed to be in charge said, "You, you have to be evacuated.  You're going with her."  He pointed at this small, approaching vehicle:  the width of a wide motorcycle, but without the large motorcycle wheels.  (I don't know how it went.  Was it a hovercraft?  Did it go on a track?  No idea.)  There was a large windshield and a small platform for the driver to stand on; we had to kind of hang off the back, awkwardly clasping the side of the windshield and each other, hoping to not fall off the back as we zoomed off.

We zipped up narrow sandy roads, dodging pedestrians.  I kept wondering how we were actually going to get out; why wouldn't they notice us?  Wouldn't someone stop us?  (Clearly, my brain has co-opted some of the drama of Argo).

But then suddenly, we were back in the tower, packing up again.  I was, once more, folding pillowcases, when the same streak of light rocketed through the sky, the same explosive sound, the same hurrying down the stairs and being ushered onto an escape vehicle.

In the second iteration, we got farther. But then I was explaining all of it to my mom, almost narrating the second escape.  I said, "They made us do it again, because they really want us to understand what it's like to say goodbye.  How it feels, and what it means."

Terrible parenting

In last night's dream, I was supposed to take my 4-year-old boy to meet my husband at a restaurant we wanted to try.  My son and I got to the restaurant early; a big Chinese restaurant that was eerily empty.  The foyer was too large and under-furnished, and there was a second, lower-level that was enormous but barred off.  I realized quickly that it wasn't going to be the meal we were hoping for, and tried to figure out how to gracefully split.

I called my husband to find out where he was, and he was 10 blocks north of us (I had, evidently, given him completely inaccurate directions).  I told him not to bother to come back down, that we would go up and meet him.  So my son and I, without ordering any food, started to gather our things to leave.  We had to ask one of the restaurant staff to retrieve our coats and shoes (??? why did we take our shoes off???).  I was glad to get out of there.

As we were walking uptown to meet my husband, I stopped and bought a pack of cigarettes.  I lit one, and offered one to my 4-year-old son.  We walked along, smoking and talking.  I explained to him that this was a terrible thing we were doing, that smoking is really really bad for you.  He said, "Like cookies?"  I said, "Well, no.  Cookies aren't terrible.  You shouldn't eat only cookies, but cookies aren't bad for you.  Cigarettes are terrible for you, all the time."  He said, in a deliberately funny voice, "But it makes me feel so relaxed!"  We walked on, smoking and talking, and I knew that I'd ruined something good.

Stranded van / scavenging for wardrobe finds

In last night's dream, I was traveling in some kind of RV or camper van with friends, and we had to stop suddenly because one of my companions said, "Look at THAT!"  Up on a nearby snowy hillside, displayed kind of elegantly, were some clothes, including a long overcoat.  I thought she wanted the coat, but behind it was a tweedy-looking, retro cardigan that she absolutely had to have.  We weren't able to get the van going again, so abandoned it, planning to retrieve it later.

Then, suddenly, I was at a wedding – a small, casual one, with children running all over the place – and I realized it was of a former friend.  It was so awkward that I was there, at this most personal and intimate event, when we hadn't spoken for years. But instead of turning me out, she gave me a hug and asked to see pictures of the kids.

We tried to go back to rescue the van, but we couldn't; there were angry men – police officers?  tow truck guys? the owner of the berm we'd left it on? – scolding us. I was able to get a few things out of the van before I scurried off, abandoning the van for good.

Hospital / Animal Rescue

In last night's dream, I was working for our realtor.  It was a new job, and I was nervous about everything – being late, messing up, all of that new job anxiety one might have.

I was visiting with some old high school friends, but knew that I had to get to work, or at least phone in. I couldn't leave somehow, and couldn't dial my phone.  I realized that when I was looking at my phone, everything was blurry.  I said, "I think something might be really wrong with me!"  The people I was with tried to calm me down, or explain away why I couldn't see clearly, but I knew that they were wrong.

I managed to get myself to some kind of clinic, and the nurses there sat me on a gurney so they could take my blood pressure.  I said, "Shouldn't you draw blood?  Run some tests?"  They explained that since I'd had blood drawn recently, they couldn't do so again so soon; new research showed that drawing blood too frequently increased the risk of developing blood clots.  (Obviously my subconscious is mulling over Secretary of State Clinton's health...)

While I sat on the gurney, I kept trying to call in to the realtor to let him know why I was so late, but it didn't work.  I misdialed repeatedly, and then couldn't quite make out the numbers, and then couldn't quite remember the order of the numbers.

A nurse said that I should accompany her to another room to wait. We walked into an area – I wouldn't quite call it a room –  that had, on one side, a small lake instead of walls and windows.  The floor fell away to a steep rocky shore that descended a few feet to the lake.

In the lake were some birds – ducks, swans, maybe? – as well has a few musicians sitting on some kind of floating petals.  They were playing and singing as they floated around on the lake.  I sat by the rocky edge, and watched the music.  Other rescued animals came into view; a kitten, a tiny pygmy donkey (is there even such thing as a pygmy donkey?), some chicks.

I watched and listened and waited for someone to come tell me what to do next, and if I was going to be okay.