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May. 22nd, 2011 10:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupI seem to be talking about my dreams a lot more lately, I think maybe because I'm remembering them more. I dunno, I go through cycles with regards to dreams.
I just tried, in all earnest, to spell it "psychles". Wow. Best portmanteau ever.
Anyway, there was this ghost in some apartment building and he kept telling me to go clean out some old storage closets in the upper floor -- storage closets I guess I was familiar with, because they had stuff I thought I or my family had owned. Anyway, he and I both agreed that my family had once owned a Degas (seriously, a Degas?) called The Teaching Of The Lesson, which had some kind of important philosophical treatise written on the back. Eventually some other guy in the building was allowed to join me though he didn't get to help; he sat in the room and talked to the ghost.
If you've never sifted through the junk of former generations in a dream, it's not all that interesting. Though I did find a really cool pill box in the shape of a siamese cat. I did not, unfortunately, find the painting -- just documentation of it, which I already knew was there.
Again, I can cherrypick the elements that went into it -- between Carnivale's ghostly baggage trailer and well, all of White Collar, the "important painting hidden in a stash of family memories" thing isn't hard to explain. Still, I get weirded out whenever my dreams are so narrative, and involve arcane history.
I just tried, in all earnest, to spell it "psychles". Wow. Best portmanteau ever.
Anyway, there was this ghost in some apartment building and he kept telling me to go clean out some old storage closets in the upper floor -- storage closets I guess I was familiar with, because they had stuff I thought I or my family had owned. Anyway, he and I both agreed that my family had once owned a Degas (seriously, a Degas?) called The Teaching Of The Lesson, which had some kind of important philosophical treatise written on the back. Eventually some other guy in the building was allowed to join me though he didn't get to help; he sat in the room and talked to the ghost.
If you've never sifted through the junk of former generations in a dream, it's not all that interesting. Though I did find a really cool pill box in the shape of a siamese cat. I did not, unfortunately, find the painting -- just documentation of it, which I already knew was there.
Again, I can cherrypick the elements that went into it -- between Carnivale's ghostly baggage trailer and well, all of White Collar, the "important painting hidden in a stash of family memories" thing isn't hard to explain. Still, I get weirded out whenever my dreams are so narrative, and involve arcane history.
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Date: 2011-05-22 03:46 pm (UTC)My narrative dreams almost always involve travel to some odd place for some specific, if obscure, reason. I had one once years ago where my family and closest friends all rather cheerfully escorted me to this weird river flowing across the desert; the river was made of tar and had hot springs bubbling up in rocky pools here and there around it and occasionally the hot water slicked the tar. All the plant-life was dead and covered with ashes, though the desert was full of life all around it. They gave me this weird staff with a copper bell on a hook on it, handed me a backpack full of food and water, and told me they'd meet me at the mountains (I do remember that the river flowed north.) And then they left me there, and I started hiking. The whole thing boiled down to it being terribly, terribly imperative that I get to the mountains in some specific amount of time, and I remember being highly annoyed that *they* could just drive there and I had to walk. And that's what I did until I woke up: walked on a beaten path by the river, going north.
That one really stuck in my head for some reason.