My first dream is fuzzy because the second was like an epic film, but I’ll do my best to remember based on my notes. It started in the bathroom, here. I looked out the window and saw my friend Matt was standing in the yard. My brother was here, he was just a boy, maybe seven years old. It was Halloween, and Matt was holding up an eight by ten unframed watercolor. The painting was mostly done in blues and yellow. It depicted Druids, maybe three, and glowing standing stones all within a grove of pines. I don’t remember why I was cussing him out, but I was, and he just sort of melted into the painting.
Now for the epic starring a young Kirsten Dunst, in her early twenties, Ron, and me. I’d guess that Ron and I were in our early thirties. It took place in England, in a castle, fifteenth century, would be my guess. Kirsten was our young queen with long curly golden hair. She wore a small headpiece and a long, beautiful, form fitting, deep green, velvet gown. There were several ladies in waiting within the court besides myself. One was a young light skinned black woman dressed in pink velvet and white chiffon. Kirsten put on the huge, long, pink, braided wig that looked ridiculous. What’s more, she made us all wear wigs and headpieces that looked a lot like silk diapers. The black girl took the mandate the worst and felt humiliated. There was a brunette dressed in yellow and green with big hair separated in half with wispy bangs framing her face. She wore a lot of makeup, eyeliner, and lipstick. She pretended that she looked good, anything to appease the queen. There was a rumor of incest spreading around about the queen. Her tall, slender, young king was very animated and alarmed. He had shoulder length gray curls beneath his gold crown, and wore mail with gray tights. Behind a red tapestry, Ron was very angry with me. He yanked me by the arm and threatened me with a snarl. He wanted to strike me. His head was shaved, he looked terribly handsome, but I decided at that moment that I did not like him at all and would thwart his every action like a hidden viper. I did not say a word. Now I was gathered with the ladies in a fabulous room, dark, wooden, and round. There were glass cases lining the walls with miniatures. Military miniatures crammed the shelves within the right hand wall. In the center of the room was an open case. There were a lot of miniature porcelain people depicting the royal family through the ages. They were only a couple of inches tall and painted rather simply, that is they had black spotted eyes and red lips, and some of them wore blue jackets or gold gowns, but they were not painted very intricately considering that each sculpt was different and fine. They also were not glazed. Some of them were seated, they were all different, and I’d say at least thirty of them sat in the burgundy velvet lined case. What’s more, each had a little wooden dog, all sorts of breeds, hand carved. I pocketed one of the little dogs which I hid in a drawer of a wardrobe amongst some white and pink silk undergarments. It was a good thing too, because of the rumor about the queen the king had the entire lot of them burned in an enormous fireplace. This was a very different sort of dream for me. Like the ancient Greek dream I had on the 13th, it was very realistic and makes me wonder about past lives.
