MORNING OF DECEMBER 13, 2011
I remember signing up for a class at a fictional local college. Eric was going to attend with me. We arrived on campus one day to find it unusually empty. As we traversed the sidewalk between two buildings, we came upon two girls who were fighting.
Rather than attempt to stop the fight, we just watched. And it wasn't a "sexy" girl fight, but a real, genuine, nasty fight. One girl was shorter, with auburn colored hair and the other was slightly taller with blonde hair. It occurred to me that the girls looked and acted a little like the Batman villains Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn in street clothes. This being a dream, they more or less took on those personae after this point.
Before we got to class, I remember a professor stopping us and telling us that he was a professional dog trainer who would be offering classes. I told him I didn't have a dog, but my parents' had just gotten a new puppy (which is true). When he found out their dog was a cockapoo, he explained to me that they were supposedly very smart and trainable, and recommended I attend the class for free.
I vaguely remember entering the huge classroom, which was mostly full. The seats and desks were in the elevated "stadium" style, and I had to sit in the floor near the top. Even then, people were still filing in.
My next clear memory is after the class. Eric and I were in some kind of gift shop on campus. I heard a commotion and found the "Posion Ivy" and "Harley Quinn" girl were in a new argument. Ivy was trying to apologize for the earlier fight, but Harley wouldn't have it. She pointed out that Ivy was holding a silver hammer, and she didn't trust her, though Ivy swore the hammer wasn't for her.
Harley grabbed the hammer away from Ivy and walked over to return it to some nearby shelves where many types of tools and hardware were displayed for sale. Ivy sneaked up behind her, grabbed a length of chain from the shelves, and suddenly began choking her with it!
About this time Eric walked up, trying to tell me something. I just shushed him and directed his attention to the nearby commotion.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Artistic Insecurity
MORNING OF DECEMBER 12, 2011
This dream is the most transparent manifestation of my creative insecurities that one could ever imagine. I'm sharing it anyway.
Someone was publishing a book of cartoon pin-up art which would consist of submissions received from various cartoonists on the internet. One of the art communities I take part in heavily promoted it, so I sent in three different submissions, hoping one might make the book.
I received confirmation that indeed all three of my submissions would be used! I felt very happy. I remember going to a bookstore inside a mall to purchase my copy the day it was published. The clerk behind the counter said something snarky when I told him I had work in the book, but I can't remember what.
Then I sat down and looked through the book. I recognized many of the artists whose illustrations were featured. I found the three I had drawn, only to realize they had been re-drawn by another artist. The concept and general composition were the same as what I'd turned in, and indeed I had been credited for the ideas in their respective descriptions, but a much better artist had re-drawn it. Every single other piece of art in the book had been drawn by its original artist. How discouraging.
There was another part of this dream where I was walking a track at dawn, much as I usually do, only this track was sort of an amalgamation of all the ones I normally go to. There were one or two other people on the track as well. In real life, I only walk, but in the dream, I started jogging. I was amazed that I was holding up really well, and could keep jogging for many laps without a break.
There was a house across the street with an old man sitting on the porch. He began shouting out at the joggers and walkers, mocking us all.
This dream is the most transparent manifestation of my creative insecurities that one could ever imagine. I'm sharing it anyway.
Someone was publishing a book of cartoon pin-up art which would consist of submissions received from various cartoonists on the internet. One of the art communities I take part in heavily promoted it, so I sent in three different submissions, hoping one might make the book.
I received confirmation that indeed all three of my submissions would be used! I felt very happy. I remember going to a bookstore inside a mall to purchase my copy the day it was published. The clerk behind the counter said something snarky when I told him I had work in the book, but I can't remember what.
Then I sat down and looked through the book. I recognized many of the artists whose illustrations were featured. I found the three I had drawn, only to realize they had been re-drawn by another artist. The concept and general composition were the same as what I'd turned in, and indeed I had been credited for the ideas in their respective descriptions, but a much better artist had re-drawn it. Every single other piece of art in the book had been drawn by its original artist. How discouraging.
There was another part of this dream where I was walking a track at dawn, much as I usually do, only this track was sort of an amalgamation of all the ones I normally go to. There were one or two other people on the track as well. In real life, I only walk, but in the dream, I started jogging. I was amazed that I was holding up really well, and could keep jogging for many laps without a break.
There was a house across the street with an old man sitting on the porch. He began shouting out at the joggers and walkers, mocking us all.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Crick Circle
MORNING OF DECEMBER 3, 2011
There was an old, dirt road out in the woods. It came out in a sort of open field where it circled into a cul-de-sac. Around this cul-de-sac were a small handful of old, colonial-style houses. The whole area felt so ancient and deserted.
Some friends and I had parked our cars outside and were exploring one of the houses. There were a lot of random items inside, as though this had once been a general store or something similar. I specifically remember there were a lot of old, creepy toys.
At one point I took out my phone and was skimming Twitter. I saw a Twitter post from twitter-comedian Kelly Oxford that simply read, "I HATE Crick Circle." I immediately recognized that "Crick Circle" was the name of the dirt road these old houses were on. She'd attached a picture to the tweet which showed the outside of the very house my friends and I were in.
This creeped me out well and proper, but for some reason I stayed in the house, now trying to take pictures of things to tweet about it. I remember on old, tin "Snoopy" toy that started to move on it's own as I tried to get a good picture of it. Scary.
In a different dream I was dating a girl. I remember bits of an awkward date in which we attended a local, live show. There were folding chairs all over the room, but for some reason the two of us kept getting up and trying to find new seats in a different area. We were never satisfied with our seats. We ended up outside, standing beside one of our cars, talking.
There was an old, dirt road out in the woods. It came out in a sort of open field where it circled into a cul-de-sac. Around this cul-de-sac were a small handful of old, colonial-style houses. The whole area felt so ancient and deserted.
Some friends and I had parked our cars outside and were exploring one of the houses. There were a lot of random items inside, as though this had once been a general store or something similar. I specifically remember there were a lot of old, creepy toys.
At one point I took out my phone and was skimming Twitter. I saw a Twitter post from twitter-comedian Kelly Oxford that simply read, "I HATE Crick Circle." I immediately recognized that "Crick Circle" was the name of the dirt road these old houses were on. She'd attached a picture to the tweet which showed the outside of the very house my friends and I were in.
This creeped me out well and proper, but for some reason I stayed in the house, now trying to take pictures of things to tweet about it. I remember on old, tin "Snoopy" toy that started to move on it's own as I tried to get a good picture of it. Scary.
In a different dream I was dating a girl. I remember bits of an awkward date in which we attended a local, live show. There were folding chairs all over the room, but for some reason the two of us kept getting up and trying to find new seats in a different area. We were never satisfied with our seats. We ended up outside, standing beside one of our cars, talking.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Biscuit
MORNING OF NOVEMBER 30, 2011
I arrived to work one morning with a biscuit I had purchased for breakfast. I was really anxious to eat it, but for some reason kept getting distracted by things that demanded my attention and kept having to put it off.
My boss was telling me we needed to schedule singers to come sing Christmas music. Then I was in a room where author Neil Gaiman was supposed to come and introduce some new cartoon based on his work. I was very excited about this, and couldn't believe I'd not heard of it before now.
Next I remember watching what was supposedly an old tape of a failed pilot for a 90's sitcom. It was called "Forgetting (girl's name--can't remember what)". Henry Winkler had a cameo in the pilot. The show was really bad, but had such a feeling of sincere earnestness that I felt kind of sad that it had never been picked up.
As I watched this pilot, I realized I'd never had my biscuit. Now it was almost lunchtime.
I arrived to work one morning with a biscuit I had purchased for breakfast. I was really anxious to eat it, but for some reason kept getting distracted by things that demanded my attention and kept having to put it off.
My boss was telling me we needed to schedule singers to come sing Christmas music. Then I was in a room where author Neil Gaiman was supposed to come and introduce some new cartoon based on his work. I was very excited about this, and couldn't believe I'd not heard of it before now.
Next I remember watching what was supposedly an old tape of a failed pilot for a 90's sitcom. It was called "Forgetting (girl's name--can't remember what)". Henry Winkler had a cameo in the pilot. The show was really bad, but had such a feeling of sincere earnestness that I felt kind of sad that it had never been picked up.
As I watched this pilot, I realized I'd never had my biscuit. Now it was almost lunchtime.
Monday, November 28, 2011
The Strangely Religous Restaurant
MORNING OF NOVEMBER 28, 2011
Eric and I were seated at a table in some sort of small-but-fancy-looking restaurant. The character Daryl from The Office (or perhaps just actor who plays him) was sitting at the table closest to us. He began reading Christmas-related scriptures from an ornate Bible.
As he read, I walked up to a buffet line to get food. There was all types of food on the buffet, mostly American, home-style things. I noticed there was graffiti in one place on the sneeze-guard. It said something about the need for "Americans" to get along with Muslims.
A lady, much like a typical high school "lunch room lady" plopped a big wad of pizza-like substance on my tray and I returned to me seat. On my way back by, I noticed that "Daryl's" table held, in addition to his ornate Bible, many books about Wicca, and other spiritual tomes.
Eric and I were seated at a table in some sort of small-but-fancy-looking restaurant. The character Daryl from The Office (or perhaps just actor who plays him) was sitting at the table closest to us. He began reading Christmas-related scriptures from an ornate Bible.
As he read, I walked up to a buffet line to get food. There was all types of food on the buffet, mostly American, home-style things. I noticed there was graffiti in one place on the sneeze-guard. It said something about the need for "Americans" to get along with Muslims.
A lady, much like a typical high school "lunch room lady" plopped a big wad of pizza-like substance on my tray and I returned to me seat. On my way back by, I noticed that "Daryl's" table held, in addition to his ornate Bible, many books about Wicca, and other spiritual tomes.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Stealing Annie
MORNING OF NOVEMBER 27, 2011
This dream will be nearly impossible to explain, as it only works in the world of dream logic. But I will try my best.
I either lived or was staying in a very old house in the older, "downtown" part of some city. There was a similar house next door, and the two were connected by some sort of screened-in porch that served as a sort of vestibule between the two.
One night I was all alone in the house, and it felt rather creepy. I recall stepping out onto the screened in porch and watching the dark city streets around me, only the occasional car driving past.
I looked through the windowed door into the house next door. The house was being used by the city as some sort of art museum, but I don't think it was currently open to the public. It very much had an "under construction" appearance. The room I could see into was some sort of lobby, which looked entirely empty and dark. Over by a window, I could see what looked like a doll.
Now, in real life, the TV show Community, of which I am a huge fan, aired a Christmas episode last year which was done entirely in stop-motion animation. I realized that the "doll" I could see was the puppet of the character, Annie, which was used in that episode.
For some reason I decided it would be no big deal for me to break into that room and take that prop for my own, so I pried open the door between my house and the museum and walked in. I realized there was a security camera, but I somehow was able to get past it. I felt very nervous when I got close the doll, because I thought a passing motorist could potentially see me from the street.
I don't remember what happened next, as my next memory is of being in a bedroom where two parents were putting their toddler-aged daughter to bed for the night. I noticed the same Community prop doll was lying beside the daughter's bed and I once again began devising a way I might could take it.
(I don't know what my obsession with this doll was in the dream. In real life the show has recently been placed on hiatus, which means there's a good chance it will be canceled. I am very passionate about this show, and want it to be saved. I think my obsession with stealing this prop in the dream may possibly be born of my desperate desire to save the show, in spite of the apparent wishes of those who control it.)
In a different dream, I was watching a movie. It was a western, and I think dream-me knew it to be directed by the Coen brothers. The opening scene featured a poetic monologue by a gritty cowboy. Then there was a scene in which Indians attacked the cowboys. The Indians were, however, dated, offensive caricatures. The battle, too, was over-the-top. It felt like watching a live-action Looney Tunes cartoon, except for there was blood and gore.
In a final dream, someone had told me I should design postcards to promote my art. For some reason I designed the card with a cartoon girl on one side and a cartoon horse on the other. My dad saw it and said, "This will make people who see it think of women in the mall." I replied, "Well, it will make of them think of horses in the mall, too."
Huh?
This dream will be nearly impossible to explain, as it only works in the world of dream logic. But I will try my best.
I either lived or was staying in a very old house in the older, "downtown" part of some city. There was a similar house next door, and the two were connected by some sort of screened-in porch that served as a sort of vestibule between the two.
One night I was all alone in the house, and it felt rather creepy. I recall stepping out onto the screened in porch and watching the dark city streets around me, only the occasional car driving past.
I looked through the windowed door into the house next door. The house was being used by the city as some sort of art museum, but I don't think it was currently open to the public. It very much had an "under construction" appearance. The room I could see into was some sort of lobby, which looked entirely empty and dark. Over by a window, I could see what looked like a doll.
Now, in real life, the TV show Community, of which I am a huge fan, aired a Christmas episode last year which was done entirely in stop-motion animation. I realized that the "doll" I could see was the puppet of the character, Annie, which was used in that episode.
For some reason I decided it would be no big deal for me to break into that room and take that prop for my own, so I pried open the door between my house and the museum and walked in. I realized there was a security camera, but I somehow was able to get past it. I felt very nervous when I got close the doll, because I thought a passing motorist could potentially see me from the street.
I don't remember what happened next, as my next memory is of being in a bedroom where two parents were putting their toddler-aged daughter to bed for the night. I noticed the same Community prop doll was lying beside the daughter's bed and I once again began devising a way I might could take it.
(I don't know what my obsession with this doll was in the dream. In real life the show has recently been placed on hiatus, which means there's a good chance it will be canceled. I am very passionate about this show, and want it to be saved. I think my obsession with stealing this prop in the dream may possibly be born of my desperate desire to save the show, in spite of the apparent wishes of those who control it.)
In a different dream, I was watching a movie. It was a western, and I think dream-me knew it to be directed by the Coen brothers. The opening scene featured a poetic monologue by a gritty cowboy. Then there was a scene in which Indians attacked the cowboys. The Indians were, however, dated, offensive caricatures. The battle, too, was over-the-top. It felt like watching a live-action Looney Tunes cartoon, except for there was blood and gore.
In a final dream, someone had told me I should design postcards to promote my art. For some reason I designed the card with a cartoon girl on one side and a cartoon horse on the other. My dad saw it and said, "This will make people who see it think of women in the mall." I replied, "Well, it will make of them think of horses in the mall, too."
Huh?
The Dark-Haired Girl
MORNING OF NOVEMBER 26, 2011
I went on a date with a pretty, dark-haired girl. I only vaguely recall it, but I know it was somehow cut short, much to my disappointment. We scheduled another date, and my first clear memory is arriving to meet her for that excursion.
For some reason we'd agreed to meet at a convenience store/gas station, where one of us one of us would leave our car so we could ride together. I got there early and thought I'd have to wait a while for her to show, but she was already there. She got in my car and we were on our way. I remember her telling me about her day at work as we drove. We saw a movie and held hands during it.
Next I remember being at my parents' house in the guest room that I sleep in when I visit them, only it was as though I actually lived there and that was my bedroom. I was cleaning things in the room and putting clean sheets on the bed when suddenly the dark-haired girl showed up at the house.
She walked into my room and I was embarrassed because I hadn't expected her to come over at that time. I was completely unkempt, just wearing sloppy around-the-house clothes and a baseball cap that I had quickly thrown on to hide my "bed head". But then I noticed the girl was dressed in a very similar, sloppy manner and I didn't feel embarrassed anymore.
I went on a date with a pretty, dark-haired girl. I only vaguely recall it, but I know it was somehow cut short, much to my disappointment. We scheduled another date, and my first clear memory is arriving to meet her for that excursion.
For some reason we'd agreed to meet at a convenience store/gas station, where one of us one of us would leave our car so we could ride together. I got there early and thought I'd have to wait a while for her to show, but she was already there. She got in my car and we were on our way. I remember her telling me about her day at work as we drove. We saw a movie and held hands during it.
Next I remember being at my parents' house in the guest room that I sleep in when I visit them, only it was as though I actually lived there and that was my bedroom. I was cleaning things in the room and putting clean sheets on the bed when suddenly the dark-haired girl showed up at the house.
She walked into my room and I was embarrassed because I hadn't expected her to come over at that time. I was completely unkempt, just wearing sloppy around-the-house clothes and a baseball cap that I had quickly thrown on to hide my "bed head". But then I noticed the girl was dressed in a very similar, sloppy manner and I didn't feel embarrassed anymore.
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