I dreamed that I had been sick or hurt, and a certain Doctor Julian had sent me to stay in a trailer with a young mulatto woman. The place was a dump, piled high with clothes, mostly. I was a good sport about it, beggars can’t be choosers. The trailer was on the wrong side of the tracks in town. I don’t want the first dream of the book to be a cliche, because it was not. The woman was friendly enough and had friends. The first visitor was a little black man with a long opium pipe. The pipe looked ancient, dried old wood like the bottom of an old puddle. The woman brought out a big glass water bong and wanted to share, but I told her that I was sick and should not. The second guest was a smallish sort of Bigfoot, maybe more of a swamp monster with long dark hair. He didn’t stay long. The third guest was an old high yellow black woman with long grizzled white hair who reminded me of Mama Odie from The Princess & the Frog. She wasn’t blind, but she had the air of magic. She was complaining that my bunk was piled high with the girl’s wardrobe. I could see some black and white sheets and a thin mattress, but the girl said that there was no bed beneath the pile. The elder said that Dr. Julian was going to have to do something about it. The girl went out, and the front screen door kept falling off the hinges. I wanted to lock the door. There was some sort of lock. I couldn’t even keep it on the hinges. Arthur woke me early. Welcome to Dana’s Dreams Four, I suspect it’s going to be a long one.
Available as an ebook, soon to be released in all formats, Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of the Dream Hog is the third installment of my vivid dreaming. I found a dream journal that goes back to 2000 that is included in the back as well as photographs of my dream scrawl scribbled in the dark.
I reached over to scribble this dream down, but my dream notebook wasn’t there, so I jotted it down in the back of Catherine Cookson’s The Mallen Lot. It was just too much to miss. It began in college, I was dressed to the nines and wore snakeskin shoes. I had a couple of buddies, and one of them had an eight millimeter film in a canister steeped in acid, that is, LSD. We gathered in a dark little hovel to watch, but something went wrong, and up on the screen it looked like a yellow layer cake with jelly filling and chocolate icing, running and dripping. Meanwhile a small crowd had gathered round to watch. I didn’t know any of them. A couple of the boys were cute and smiling. There was another dark haired one who was on me like Frankie for breakfast. My friends weren’t wild about the newcomers, I could tell. There was a sandy haired girl with a ponytail wearing a navy blue sweatshirt amongst them who obviously liked one of the cute boys and got all shitty with me. I took her outside and straightened her out. By that I mean that she no longer considered me a rival and carried on. Then, two twin dolls, big, maybe four foot tall, made out of tin and painted with chippy acrylics, came at me, dancing down the hall. They had pink faces, blonde curls, and matching blue lace trimmed pants suits. Somehow I avoided them, and my brother joined the crew with his guitar. Supposedly he was to sing a funny new song about Satan. We must’ve been packed into a small dark room backstage. As my friends were still working on the film the dark haired stranger with the big eyebrows was rolling a joint when he bit me and blamed it on my snakeskin shoes. Another I had to set straight, although, this one, I really didn’t like. He was very typical and creepy. I left the room, and there was a dark old ticket stand with a tattooed hand coming from the window, not unlike Thing, motioning for me to come hither. When I did, another white boy with a crew cut jumped out, grabbed me, and pinned me to the floor with a gun to my head. He then tried to hold me down, like I thought I was such a badass, thought I was smart. Then he pulled a pair of brown womens' panties embroidered with colorful tulip buds out from somewhere as if they were mine. I was momentarily in shock, but then, even as I lay there on the floor with the gun to my head, I announced to the gathering crowd that they were Mummy’s underpants. This put him off. Good, I continued. Told him to kill me, then, I wasn’t afraid of him, old lady underpants stealer, and got up.
Then, I dreamed that I was shopping online for Dame Darcy dolls. I had made a little pink flute and noticed that she was selling the same kind, cheap.
I'm considering publishing my first dream book in other formats. Here's the paperback: Dana's Dreams
Free Gaia TV this week. Frankie and I watched Chariots of the Gods from 1970, obviously inspiration for Ancient Aliens and Robert Sephr. We liked it. We're on the fourth lecture of Mystery Teachings now. It's really trippy and deep. Think that had lots to do with the dream. Frankie is just a hucklebuck, so he slept through the lessons.
So many dreams to report, and I scribbled them in my dream notebook in the dark, so it’s like automatic writing and will require some deciphering and translating. First, Tim was here in the dining room and admired my high school class ring that I wasn’t wearing. Ron had an adorable buff colored rat terrier who looked like he had a mustache. The word, “steam”, is written in my dream book, but I can’t remember what it referred to: some sort of cleaning, I think. Maybe Frankie, the cat, had to be steam cleaned, but I can’t be sure.
Then I was walking my old grade school route to school, my old girlfriend, Stephanie Schwerian, was sitting on the steps. She wore a soft powder blue sweater, and her hair was longer. She mentioned something to me about “woke ass Irish” according to my dream script. I’m not sure what that refers to, but I think it had something to do with my tall dark haired boyfriend, Brian, who I also used to work with in a bar in the South Side. It wasn’t grade school, it was an enormous industrial high school, very stainless steel. I was driving my car, then, and Brian was in the passenger seat. There was a naked pink pearlescent Monster High doll with wavy blonde hair who was positioned backwards with her ass against the dashboard. Somehow she was interfering with my driving. “Gas tank” is scribbled in the notes, then, “stop”. I think I had told Brian that my gas gauge was broken, and he had me stop.
Then I dreamed of a broken glass cabinet in the bathroom that hung over the sink.
Finally, the show stopper: I was an English teacher and was hosting a big Halloween party. I had rented a hall. What was more, there had been a national essay contest sponsored by somebody, and people that weren’t even my students, like Theresa, had entered. I had given a guy with auburn hair a cassette tape which I thought had old Smiths cover songs that my friends and I had performed. I got the results of the essay contest and Theresa had won first prize, $ 2,700, that in the dream I kept wondering if it was $27,000. An old student of mine, Allen, I think, had also won second or third prize, $2,600. While I was in the bathroom I could hear the tape playing, and it wasn’t me and my friends, rather old Smiths. There was a dark haired girl in there with me who was kind of picking on me for that. I was not perturbed. I sort of joked with the guy about thinking it had been us. Then, a girl, who looked like his twin sister in a lace blouse, showed me a white chandelier type of necklace that she wore around her neck. It was for holding your joint, and as she held it between her fingers she sang a little supposed Smiths song all about it. Theresa was there, and I was thinking she should have it for winning the contest. I was also thinking that Ron really could sing like Morrissey and suggested to the guy that Ron and I should sing a cover song. I awoke with, “Hang the DJ”, playing in my head.
Kudos to my dream notebook. If not for it I only would’ve remembered the final dream.
I haven't blogged my dreams in over a month. They've been going directly to Dana's Dreams Two. I started that back in June, and I'm around page forty-five. You can get Dana's Dreams here:
It is available as a paperback or ebook. It has some watercolors and photographs. So far Dana's Dreams Two does not. I don't know if it will, so it might be a lot more reasonable in paperback than the first. They are big books.
