Tuesday, July 21, 2026
Monday, July 20, 2026
Monday, October 20, 2025
From Hot Blood
That night a while after we’d all gone to bed a soft rapping came to our door. Grafton woke up first. “Francis,” he whispered, “someone is at the door.” I forced myself awake. It was strange, indeed, to be woken at night. I got up and let Brother Eustace in. He held a candle in his hand and looked ghoulish in his nightgown.
“Sorry to disturb you, but Norton is gone again.”
“What?” I was incredulous. Grafton lit a lantern and the room glowed. We cast long shadows on the stone walls.
“Where could he have gone?” Grafton asked. “Back to the woods?”
Eustace shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. Will you help me find him? I’d rather not disturb the abbot at this hour.”
So the three of us in our nightgowns searched the halls up and downstairs. The tight staircases wrapped around. Eustace was tall and had to stoop so as not to bump his head. Norton was nowhere to be found.
“We are going to have to look outside,” I acknowledged. Grafton huffed but followed us outside where the crickets were chirping. “Shh…” I held my index finger to my lips. We all stopped and listened. I could hear something past the bugs. “I think it’s coming from the garden,” I whispered.
We kept a garden full of medicinal herbs: hellbore, lady’s mantle, monkshood, nightshade, pennyroyal, sage, soapwort, thistle, thyme, vervain, woad, wolfsbane, yarrow, and the like. Brother Ignatius was the head gardener, and Edmund, the alchemist. I helped them with my bees. I saw something white floating through the dark garden and for an instant mistook it for a ghost. The abbey had its share of wandering spirits before the Pestilence. Afterwards we were a virtual zoo of spooks for a while until Mother Agatha and Sister Sarah set most of them free. None of us scoffed at ghosts. Grafton held up the lantern.
“Is that him?” Eustace asked softly. He stepped quickly towards the white figure and we followed behind timidly. Neither Grafton nor I were up for ghost hunting. As we closed in I noticed it was indeed a living being, Norton, and he seemed as if he was under a spell or in a trance.
Eustace shook his shoulder. “Norton?” His mouth was hanging open and his pupiless eyes shone in the night, rolled back in his head. “Norton!” He shook his shoulder harder this time, which seemed to have some effect as it looked as if Norton was waking up.
“He’s asleep,” Grafton was flabbergasted as were we all.
“Sleep walking, somnambulism, my little brother used to walk in his sleep and scare the hell out of us.” I revealed.
“Yes,” Brother Eustace was relieved. “Let’s get you back to bed. Thank you.”
We nodded and all went back to our rooms. Once in bed and the lantern extinguished Grafton looked over at me. “That was a damn scary thing.”
“Yes.” I rolled over and fell back asleep. I dreamed of the wild girl in the woods again. This time she was playing a flute and beckoning to someone.
Monday, October 13, 2025
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Dreams 9/23
I dream so much when I’m not feeling well: my fevered brain. On with the show! In the first dream Ron and I were living in the country. We had a little gray Chihuahua. He had long soft white fur on his chest which he wore like a bib and long gray whiskers. He was very sprightly and energetic. Ron showed me a picture of a black and orange Pomeranian on his phone. He said that he belonged to Kevin Farren, a boy I graduated high school with. He said that Kevin and he played tennis with the dog. Then, the Chihuahua and I were covered in watermelon. Everything was splattered with sticky watermelon from the beige sofa to the white ceiling. After cleaning up the mess I went through the green field that was our front yard to a Chevy Blazer. I climbed in and woke up.
If you think that was fun or enough, then you are in for a treat, a Piranha treat. Now Ron and I were in a pet store. Frankie and my childhood dog, my big brother Bree, Hoagie, were also there. I think Ruth Price, a lady I used to work with, ran the place. There was an enormous Piranha, the biggest I’ve ever seen, a foot-and-a-half long, and fat, with its head sticking out of a metal cage. I told Ruth that I was afraid that he would snap off Frankie’s or Hoagie’s face, but she did not seem concerned.
In the third dream Ron and I were in a cult. I was baking him some chicken, but he said that he wanted a pretzel. I told him that he could have one on the side.
Finally, I dreamed that Frankie was sleeping on the dining room table. When I woke up he was communicating with Arthur from outside the door, telling him about the crunchy feast he’d left on the kitchen floor.
Tuesday, September 9, 2025
From Starve Acre
"It seemed to Richard sometimes that Juliette had actually brought twins into the world: Ewan and Guilt. The latter had always been the stronger of the two. It fed more, weighed more, demanded more of their attention. When it had outlived Ewan, it had grown larger still."
"It seemed that he'd only come into the world to take their love and fill them with sorrow."
Andrew Michael Hurley
Funny, my book is from the Lancashire library. That's not only where the author is from, but my beloved late friend had sent me a copy of The Lancashire Witches from the museum that I could not put down. I really have to try for a nap and a dream. I'm back to that every three days thrice as much gig. Arthur and Frankie both sleep twice as much as I. TTYL... ✨
Sunday, August 31, 2025
Dreams 8/31
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.
Saturday, August 30, 2025
Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of the Dream Hog
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.
Tuesday, August 26, 2025
Dreams 8/26
This dream starred the actress Anna Kendrick and Bobby, one of my grade school friends. We were interviewing to teach at a small complex that consisted of three schools. The oldest was also the smallest, constructed of stone; it might’ve started as a church. The other two were more recent, probably from the fifties and sixties, and made of brick. The three were huddled together. The room where we were interviewing was nearby, but not in any of the three schools. Anna thought that the oldest stone building was really posh and historic, I agreed. I had a big wedding portfolio with a couple of homemade linen calla lilies tied together with a bow. The artist’s, Lois, business card was affixed to the inside back cover. I think we all got the job because I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bobby’s car. He said that we should have a celebratory drink, something feminine like white wine, and I laughed and said that the occasion called for whiskey, brandy, or scotch. There was a garden party at night, and Anne Rice was the entertainment. She was dressed half naked like Cher. Her long cone plastic skirt was transparent, and she wore white hot pants beneath her matching bandeau top. Young and slim, her hair was cut into a bob. Her song was atrocious. Everybody agreed, just awful. Was it French? I don’t know, but it was bad. I was setting up my classroom, both Anna and Bobby were there. There was a paper flower hanging by the clock. That’s when I woke up. It wasn’t a bad dream.
In the works: Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of the Dream Hog
Monday, August 18, 2025
A Dream Within A Dream
This dream began with me meeting some new, rich, popular girlfriends. I don’t know how old I was, but I’d guess in my twenties. Get ready for a weird one! They had invited me to a gala dinner party. I was wearing a long form fitting gold sequin gown. Three boys picked me up in their car, an old two toned, gray and maroon, four door sedan. I sat in the back with BJ, my boyfriend from high school. I think another was Jared Butler, a boy I knew from Margaritaville. In the dream I knew the driver, Chris, but in waking, I think that he was a combination of Chris Birchin from grade school and Sean, a boy I used to work with at The Italian Oven. The other, a young black boy, was a stranger, even in the dream. The dinner was held in a high school, and it was packed with hundreds of people. For some reason I left the party before dinner and started roaming around the school yard. It was a city, but there was a nice old, powder blue house across the street, and I went in, uninvited. They had a baby elephant. I left the house and was back in the city with my friend, Tonya, who looked more like a Lil’ Bratz doll. I went back to the school and was walking through the halls. I felt sick. It seemed as if some time had passed. I went back to the party; I guess it was in the gym. Dinner was over. I ran into one of my new girlfriends, a platinum blonde. She wanted to know where I had been. I told her that I loved her, and was sorry. She thought that I must have been overwhelmed by the crowd. Then I was looking for any of the boys that I had come with, looking for a way home. It was dark, and I was far from home. I could not find any of them. I described them to another of my new girlfriends, but she did not know them and had not seen them. Tonya was missing. Her husband, who was not her husband, Greg, in real life, and was more like her brother Tom, was wearing a toga. A girl had a little piece of plastic, which she called a bagel, and thought it was a clue to Tonya’s whereabouts. I knew it was a Monster High iced purple donut that came along with Clawdeen, the werewolf. They found Tonya in the city thanks to the clue (Scooby Doo). We were all climbing up into something like a bus. It looked like a colorful plastic doll house. I was getting hoisted up next and was about to sit next to BJ when Tonya started freaking out saying that I could not sit next to him because he was the one who had abducted me from the party and tried to drown me. I calmed her down and assured her that he had done no such thing, I knew him, and that he would not hurt me. She seemed content. Then I realized that I must’ve fallen asleep, and it must’ve all been an elaborate dream. I told them about the elephant, and BJ agreed that I had to have been dreaming. I’ve heard of a play within a play, Hamlet, but a dream within a dream? Wee…
Thursday, August 7, 2025
Frankie Stuff
Saturday, July 19, 2025
Dreams 7/19
Couple of long sweet dreams: the first starred a young Matthew Modine. I was even younger, junior high; Matthew was in high school. We were hiding out in different peoples’ houses. I would change and hide, then we’d move. It was odd, but not bad.
Frankie woke everybody up at 3:30, too early, so I snuggled between him and Arthur for the next four hours and had wonderful Christmas dreams. It began with Mummy and Daddy. I had bought some gifts from a shop, and they were delivered the next day in a big green shopping bag: a large crochet snowman and lots of wooden Christmas characters like nutcrackers and uniformed mice. Then Daddy and I walked the dog out back. There were piles of autumn leaves everywhere and a creek. He had a couple of poodle ornaments that I had made. He was picking at one, and I told him not to ruin the finish. I showed him a little toad that I had made out of puff balls hiding at the base of a tree. Then I was shopping with my work mates. It was really busy, I was checking out. I had bought three different little Christmas plants, Trump flags, and other things, all loaded into a brown shopping bag. The clerk, a friend, nearly forgot the Trump flags. Murphy, a friend from Denny’s, was there, putting things away into a cupboard. We were talking about old concerts we had been to. I told him that I had seen Motley Crue as a kid, and Wham! before George Michael had killed a girl. As I was leaving I was talking to the stock lady from the little market where I shop. She was showing me some basil buns in a plastic bag on a top shelf. I told her that I had them and liked them a lot.
Saturday, June 21, 2025
Summer Dreams
Let’s kick off summer with sweet sleep and dreams. Here, we go! First, I was with Ron’s cousin Katie and a blonde girl. We were going on a trip, and I was the driver. Our means of transport was an old brown gutted trailer. I was trying to put the driver’s seat just right. Katie and I were acting as if it was a bus. The seat was not riveted to the floor. We moved it against some screen windows as if I could drive it from there. There was no steering wheel.
The next dream was dark and epic enough for me to try to use it for DOC. It took place in a hotel in Gettysburg where I think Mummy and I worked. There were three guests, a pretty blonde woman and her tall handsome husband and a young Marine who was rather small with a buzz cut. The place was laid out like a grand ancient lodge. It was lit by lamplight with old wooden furnishings and taxidermied animals. The lobby had the red glow that often accompanies my dreams. The large intricately carved dark wooden check in counter was the center of the place, the rooms branched off in a circular pattern. There was a lounge directly in front of the counter covered in a white sheet with fancy throw pillows. The next morning the Marine was ill, faint. I helped him back to his bed and offered him breakfast. I felt very bad for him and wanted him to stay another night, telling him to call off work. The blonde woman was haunted as well. She laid on the white couch while her husband joined Mummy and I behind the counter. The couple were dressed old-fashioned. The woman wore a gorgeous long white ruffled, form fitting, cotton frock. Her husband wore a green velvet jacket with a rust colored brocade vest. He said that one of the taxidermied animals had come to life during the night, backing up his wife’s story about a haunting. I told him that the bear often came to life. The Marine was getting ready to check-out despite my wishes. I wanted to give him my contact information. I had old postcards and slips of embossed heavy brown paper in the pigeon holes of the counter or front desk. None of my ink pens worked so I had to resort to pencil stubs. I wrote down a phone number. I told him I hoped that it was the right one, but wasn’t sure. I gave him a postcard with a print of a woman in a white gown with a fan lounging on a boat. The card had a lacy white scalloped border. His coach awaited him outside.
Ron was my costar in the third dream. We were out, and I had my queen bee bag that Susan had gotten me on my right shoulder. It was full of stuff and very heavy. I had a pulled muscle along my left thigh, my groin. The combination of the two forced me to walk very slowly with a limp. We were on the edge of a busy highway, it was afternoon. A white cinder brick diner was across the street to our right. Our apartment building, which looked like an old fifties style motel, lay directly in front of us. I was trying to cross the street, but was having a very difficult time not getting hit by a car. I was crawling, as I moved faster than walking. I called to Ron. Across the street, in front of the diner, was a tall wooden shelving unit with scalloped woodwork. The top shelf belonged to Ron and me. I was decorating it seasonally with a leprechaun and a little doll. A young white man with dark hair, wearing a black rock band t-shirt, was put out with me. He wanted to put his advertising material on the shelf which was situated in front of the busy diner. A fat white man in a long sleeved white Yale t-shirt, (Yale was printed in blue, orange, and yellow bordered letters), was giving me a hard time. I responded with a shitty comment about Yale. I took some of the advertising materials. One of the magazines had Zak Bagans from Ghost Adventures on the cover, it was sealed in plastic. The vignette was black and orange. Zak had a skull or a candle, or both. I thought, oh brother, still, I placed it alongside my dolls, to the right, with a pile of white papers, the rest of the ads. The wind blew all of the advertisements away. Now I had to cross the street again, to our apartment. The lobby had windows and metal postboxes. The door to the main hallway had a metal handle and lock.
The final dream, which I nearly forgot, was of me making a video with Ron and my grown son. My hair was long, and I could see all of my dental fillings on the screen of my laptop. I looked like I was in my twenties, much too young to have a grown son. I wore a pink printed halter top. I had to adjust the camera. Our son had short blonde hair and a neat beard. He was a Marine and was talking about how much they had helped him with funding. I was not so sure about this, but kept my mouth shut.
Monday, May 26, 2025
Revenge of the Dream Hog
The dream hog got its revenge this morning. What a morning for dreaming. First, I was with Theresa, and it was around dusk. I was wearing little tie dyed sweatshorts, like I wear around the house. We were on a beach. It might’ve been a river bank, sandy with driftwood and rocks. We did not have a ride home. I was supposed to ride with a white man that Theresa knew, but for some reason I walked. It was very far away from home, and it began to sleet. The roads became very slushy with grime, and I was soaked. Three young white men were following me and seemed a worry until I ripped into them, telling them all off. They scattered. I approached an old factory, and when I entered I was no longer myself. I became a classy middle-aged black woman. The factory made garland, decorations for holidays, all kinds: Christmas, Easter, and all colors. There were big cardboard boxes and garland everywhere, so the place seemed a maze of boxes and I, the black woman, sashayed through the corridors wearing a tight sequin dress and swinging my hips. My hair was done up in curls. Some men from the factory started after me. They were wrapping me up in a clown box and turning me into popcorn. One guy told the other to eat me. He said that he liked popcorn pussy.
The next dream was very intense and came along with many warnings about childhood, innocence, and society. It took place in the late 1600s, that’s my guess. I was myself again, only about eleven years old. I had been adopted by a wealthy family, but I was not much. We were having a feast and many families had gathered for it. No idea why I was in charge of cooking, but I was. I looked for some meat to roast first. The meat was kept in a cellar with a dirt floor. There were some wooden crates to my right with a few seasoned chicken cutlets and two big portions of pork that looked more like thick pink giant sized t bone steaks. I chose them because they were the biggest and took them outside to a cobblestone garden where there were many toaster ovens set high against the back wall. Crusty bread was already baking in the ovens, and Mummy was there. I put blackberries on one of the cuts and cherries on the other and placed them into the ovens to roast. One of the portions, the cherried one, slid off the oven rack, down the stone wall, and landed on the cobblestone garden floor. I picked it up and took it back down to the cellar sink, which was deep as a laundry tub, and washed it. By this time my adopted mother, who might’ve been Elizabeth McGovern, all dressed in black, had regrettably called off dinner. She asked me if I had been drinking. I assured her that I had not. She asked if I had put spirits on the pork and why I had chosen it to prepare. I told her it was only cherries and that there was not enough of any other meat for the many families who had now gathered in the garden. They were all together in their small family groups, and each family had some sort of ancestral treasure with them like trunks, inlaid wooden cabinets, small velvet upholstered chairs, and large china dolls dressed in period Spanish gowns and caps. A game was afoot, a game that I should not have been playing, a cruel game of rumors. I was in the back of the garden when a man in his thirties, dressed in bronze galligaskins and hose, said that a woman was a whore and that she had brought down a man and ruined him. I could picture the woman that he was referring to, so I knew her. She had brown ringlets and wore a long gold and brown gown. I foolishly whispered his accusation to an older girl, and like the telephone game, the scandal started. There were whispers and accusations all around. There was a family in the middle of the garden that were called something like The Green Ladies. There were perhaps three of them, two girls and their grandmother. They had a big china doll with a pink silk skirt. One of the girls, in a red dress, who looked like a doll herself, was accused as the whore. I went to the family, siding with them, and cried. The grandmother asked if I knew Latin, and I assured her that I did. An older girl from another family ran up on us and stabbed the china doll with an enormous kitchen knife. The doll was ripped from the bottom. One of the families with older children had two big wooden gnomes with tall red caps as part of their family stash. A girl ran up and took the smaller gnome trying to destroy it. A blonde girl from the gnome family screamed, “I’ll kill you if you hurt that gnome!” Now she had made herself vulnerable to the crowd, so I repeated her threat drawing attention to myself. There was a ginger headed queer dressed to the hilt, in reds and gold, very glitzy, who was also defending The Green Ladies and stuffing his face with something. Meanwhile there was a commotion at the front of the garden involving my older teenage adopted brother with long dark hair who had drawn his sword in defense of his sweetheart. I was getting worried, looking for my adopted mother, wishing that I had kept my big mouth shut. I knew she’d be furious. I was regretting my honesty when a tall dark haired gentleman dressed in white approached me from the left of the back garden wall. He had an inlaid white cabinet, like a spice cupboard that was thin, two little drawers wide, but as tall as he. He begged me, saying he was not the scoundrel. I knew he wasn’t and assured him, “I do not know you, sir.” People were leaving or trying to at this point. Nobody was drinking, it was not allowed. I moved past a bunch of expertly made big wool stuffed animals, one, a gray and white kitten, was dressed in a little red suit like a child. A tiny white long haired dog scurried to a back room, and a girl said, “Surely, it can’t be a dog!” She meant the culprit. I was worried about the little thing. This crowd was out for blood. I was an outsider and sorry for my stupidity when two young girls began to argue. One, Laura Younkin, I knew from junior high. She wore a full gold silk skirt, and her hair was strung with ribbons and curled. The other girl had accused her, and she swore her innocence and accused me. She said, “Dana wants me removed as I do her!” I knew that Laura was not involved and told her that I’d not accuse a child. I was trying to be quiet and not give myself up when I woke up. It was a very detailed dream. I’ll try to use it in a saloon in DOC.
Thursday, May 22, 2025
Dreams 5/23
And, just like that, they're back and beyond electrorococo. From Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of The Dream Hog:
5/23
I had a couple of strange and wonderful dreams this evening. First, my brother and I were ghost hunting with Dame Darcy. We were driving in a car when Darcy pranked Glenn into thinking that he pissed himself. It was all good fun, but Glenn was salty and sabotaged our ghost hunt afterwards saying we were frauds. This dream felt so real that I did not believe it was a dream until after I had woken up.
The second dream began in a college dormitory. I lived in a small room with a childhood friend. The left side of the room had pink and brown plush carpeting, the right was pink and white candied marble. There were some visitors down the hall, and I was supposed to go outside and smoke a cigarette with one of the strange fellows. I had a gold box of Benson and Hedges cigarettes. But, I was waylaid because the long sliding door to our room had fallen off track, and I could not get it back on. My friend Brea, from school, tried to help but couldn’t. This is when my new boyfriend, Eric, showed up. He was a handsome white guy with sandy colored hair. I was leaving with him, but somehow he had disappeared on the staircase. Only his clothes and a bag were found. I was frantically looking for him when I ran into Daddy and my old neighbors, the Keilers, in a lush green yard that was meticulously kept like a park. By now Eric had caught up with us, and I was very relieved. He told me that he had to switch clothes with Brea. Mrs. Keiler, Gerri, was telling me how she had seen Fancy’s grave, that it was marked with white chalk just as Mummy had said. Fancy was a black cocker spaniel terrier mix we got when I was in junior high. Now I was wondering where Hoagie, our childhood dog, a collie and golden retriever mix, was buried. I was very distressed that I could not remember. Was he Up Camp? At Grandma’s? Anyway, Gerri told Eric that he was very lucky to have me. Then Eric introduced me to his cat, a silver tabby named Victor, I think. A man came after Eric and arrested him. We were separated, and he took him to jail with a bunch of naked queers. The guard also had another silver tabby cat. When the two of them were alone Eric overpowered the prison guard and had him on the ground. Victor came and started sucking on the guard’s cat. The cat’s foot shrivelled up as if it had been freeze dried or mummified, all black, curled, and crisp. Victor now morphed into a tiny new kitten and wore a yellow flower around his neck. Eric took him and hid him under some brambles, and we were reunited for a spell. The prison guards were after us, shooting at us. We dove into a dark river and when we came up for air we had been transformed into two other bodies. I was Latin and Eric had become a strong black man with strange eyes. I told Eric that this wasn’t me, but he assured me that I was myself saying, “It is!”. We floated on some branches until we arrived at a complex. When we got to the black man’s home his family was terrified, knowing that it wasn’t really him but a body snatcher. Like my dorm room, they also had a Japanese sliding door. I asked Eric about Victor, and he told me that he would find us.
Wednesday, May 21, 2025
Friday, March 21, 2025
Dreams 3/21
3/21
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.
Thursday, March 13, 2025
Dreams of Ancient Greece
3/13
I was fortunate to spend the evening in ancient Greece. My dreams began in an extensive cave system. The walls were smooth and white with little nooks. I was with a woman with long curly red locks and some others. We were eating half loaves of sweet yellow bread and waiting to meet with some man of importance.
Next I was visiting with a friend in her lavish villa by the sea. There were other lady visitors besides me, at least two or three. The furnishings like the chaise lounge and the walls were the same gleaming Bath stone as before, but now there were windows with long pink drapes that moved in the breeze. Our host had curly black hair and was very friendly and cheerful. She wore soft blue and white silk chiffon. She dressed us all, sharing her clothes. I wore a deep blue lace chiton with a ruby brooch at the center front holding it in place. The ruby was cut with a spray of silver behind as if it was a bud popping out from a spray of leaves. It was twice the size of a cameo. I also had a pink and blue lace diadem with another matching ruby third eye center and seed pearls dangling all around. The shoes were marvelous things, velvet clogs with pointed toes completely covered with patterns of gleaming gems. One pair that none of us wore were green with huge crimson rubies. My rubies were pink. Our generous host was pulling them all out from the bottom of her closet. Some were pink, others blue. There was perfume too that we rubbed on our wrists. In the corner to the right of the room was a shelving unit that looked like something straight out of Bedrock. There were different colored smooth stones, sort of egg shaped but longer, like elongated goose eggs, some bigger than others. There were red, pink, turquoise, blue, and green ones, and these were makeup that we applied to our eyes as shadow, cheeks as rogue, and lipsticks, but more. They were also drugs like opium that entered our bloodstream after rubbing into pulse points. There were a couple of fluffy little dogs, white and tan, who wore lavish beaded vests on their backs too. I was in love with Orpheus who wore a big white mask, twice as big as his face and had a matching smaller mask, face sized, as a glove or puppet on his hand. Otherwise we wore a beige chiton and nothing else. He was silent. We touched faces very lovingly, but he was gay, and I was devastated, hopelessly in love. This dream was so realistic I thought it was lucid all along. It couldn’t have been.
Dana's Dreams Three pg 13
Tuesday, March 11, 2025
Funny Dreams!
3/11
My first dream took place at a posh resort in the south seas. There were some familiar faces: Krisi, my ex-sister-in-law, my dear friend Adinda, Ron, and Shiner. Shiner got a bath. Adinda, Ron, and I were seated around a round covered table eating a sumptuous dinner and dessert. Adinda had her hair pulled back and wore a slinky beige gown. We were eating a creamy caramel pie for dessert. I was feeling guilty that I had eaten it all. Adinda had a doggie bag, a brown paper bag rolled up like a school lunch.
The next dream is really something else. It began in a stone castle where Mummy lived downstairs from me in a turret. There was a trick door around the outside and down three long stone steps where I could pop in and visit. She seemed happy. My brother was around too. Then I moved down a long hallway like you’d find in a hotel, not a castle, with a friendly Bigfoot with a gripe. He had a little purple felt pennant tag behind his ear that he showed me. It had something printed on it in yellow and white with one or two red words, but I don’t know what. Maybe somebody had tagged him. I left the building alone and was walking up a suburban neighborhood street when I came to a farm blocked by a primitive wooden fence. My friend Matt was there, beyond the fence, coming up the dirt road towards me, he was stark naked. I ran back down the wet suburban asphalt road away from him on all fours like a cat. It was tricky at first, but once I picked up some speed I was gone.
Dana's Dreams Three, pg 11
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