My husband and I are eating dinner and he tells me about this woman he knows from a heavy metal band, she's an old friend, someone he went to art school with. She has cancer. He suggests we go to her show to support her. She is a lovely woman, half Korean, in her forties. She sing-screams like the lead singer of Rush - Geddy Lee. When she is finishing her set, her eyes bug out of her head. She morphs into a monster.
I'm working at an old job that I find boring. The people are nice, but I'm always done with my work too soon and have too much down time. So I draw in a sketchbook. The drawings looks like psychedelic sketches from when I was a teenager. They aren't very good at all and when my coworkers find my sketch books they tell me so. They ask me why I would be sketching bad sketches instead of working and I tell them I've finished my work. I tell them that my job bores me and that there is usually too much down time. My boss asks if I want this to be my last day. I shrug my shoulders and say I guess, thinking about the fact that I have no other income whatsoever and panic a bit about my lack of savings. Still, there is a freedom in my decision and I head home and look for my guitar. I bring the guitar to a coworker's house that night. Alot of my coworkers are there, but in this environment I feel like I barely know anyone at all. They all have instruments and we begin to play music. It sounds delightful, harmonious and in sync and I feel thrilled to be part of it. I panic a bit about work again, but find a freedom in the strings of my guitar. I go outside onto a porch that is perched over a deep, roiling ocean. It's dark and there are two attractive young men sitting there ignoring me. I grab onto the swing and climb on. My former boss comes with me. She seems peeved by the fact that I've come over to the house and want to use her ocean swing. Still she allows it. She floats around me as I hang onto the swing with two arms, flying over the deep, dark, ocean. I cling onto the bar of the swing with two hands and hope I don't fall off. I return to the porch and see a version of my husband standing there. He's a young man. He seems annoyed that I've all of a sudden decided to swing and play guitar. I feel a new level of independence and freedom, and the fear is almost all gone.
My husband and I are on a date in Dublin. We take the bus down to the "alphabet city" version of Dublin, looking for a specific restaurant. It's dusk and the sun squeezes through purple storm clouds. I notice a wetness on the cobblestones as though it's been raining. At some point we get lost and lose one and other. My bike appears. It's a folding Dutch bike and I carry it instead of ride it. It's light in my hand. I begin to run, looking for my husband, but not fearful that I won't find him. It's a playful run and I'm enjoying being lost in this city. I walk into a bike shop and am surprised something so new exists in a building so old. A man in the bike shop tells me to call my therapist, so I do without hesitation. She tells me to come meet her and her husband at the other side of town. I walk me and my bike several blocks away, thinking that my husband will find me, knowing that he'll know where I am. I walk up the stairs to my therapist's house. When she opens her door I see that she's Donna Reed. I'm slightly star struck. Her house is filled with porcelain knick knacks. I shake her much older husband's hand by the warmth of their fireplace.
The alarm wakes me up and I'm disappointed to have been taken from this dream.
There's a verdant courtyard behind my house with rolling hills and an old maple tree. It's spring and the flowers are in full bloom. There are 4 or 5 strangers skipping around me like forest nymphs. My husband approaches me from behind and begins to fuck me. I enjoy it and wonder if the other nymphs will do the same to me. I run across the courtyard and will myself to fly. I go up a bit and fall down. I go up further and stay there flying for the first time in my dreams.
