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hrjI think I may have to come up with an official dream-symbolism correspondence for the motif of flutes for sale.
The dream was set in some sort of large transit center, with a grand-central-station sized atrium which had a long plexiglass wall past which you could see the trains running by. Off the atrium, there were also meeting rooms available. And in one of these there was a group of the usual dream-SCA suspects gathered for a meeting. For some reason Margaret and Kristoff were there too, and Margaret had been entrusted with a collection of flutes that had belonged to some educational institution or other that she was supposed to sell. The prize of the bunch was a bass flute that was shaped in deep S-curves like a serpent and I desired it immensely, but was balking at the $7000 price tag, whereas a simple octave flute could be had for a mere $1000. In the course of this, I got thirsty and went out into the atrium to find a drinking fountain. (Dream motifs of drinking fountains mean I'm sleeping with my mouth open and it's dried out.) While I'm getting one of those unsatisfying dream-drinks, the lights cut out in the transit center and then all the transit employees come streaming out into the atrium saying that the city is under attack and we have to leave. (Rationally speaking, I can't see that we were exactly safer out on the streets than in the transit center, but maybe it was anticipated to be a target.)
So the collection of SCA-folk from the meeting room starts running off down the street. For some reason, none of us had a vehicle. And overhead there are planes going by and there are dollops of fire raining down, but it isn't nasty napalm-like fire but more like the flame of an alcohol lamp, but with no more effect when it hits you than a spark from a campfire -- you can beat it out with your hands with no significant damage. After we'd run a few blocks, we all stop and I turn to the rest of the people and say, 'Look, we really ought to have someone in charge here, and since I'm bossy and have Control Issues, I'm willing to be nominated to be it.' At which I was immediately unanimously voted into the position and we started strategizing about whose house was going to be the easiest to get to with the city infrastructure gone haywire. (Note: "because I'm bossy and have control issues" is not random dream-logic. That part's true. I just keep in under control most of the time.)
This is about the point where I woke up and did an immediate plot-review of the dream so that I'd be able to journal it later. After getting up to pee, I went back to sleep and continued the same dream.
It was revealed at this point, that the people who were in charge at the transit center were "the rabbits" and the people attacking the city were "the hares" and that the group I was with were random bystanders to the conflict and were "the squirrels". These groups were identifiable by small stylized lapel pins, but since we were all completely human in appearance, you could disguise yourself as a member of a different group simply by obtaining the right lapel pin. It also came out that the falling gouts of fire that we'd been caught in were a by-product of the ariel defense mounted by the rabbits, not a part of the attack by the hares.
And then a bunch of us were in a car, careening along a cliff-side road, trying to make it to a ship that was a key to our success/escape/something-or-other.
About the same time I was dreaming about gouts of fire falling from the sky, a gasoline tank truck exploded about 2 miles from my house, destroying two sections of the "Macarthur Maze" freeway intersection. (No deaths reported.) It's quite possible that the sound woke me up, but I'm so used to waking up randomly at that time of the morning that it would never occur to me to look for a cause.
The dream was set in some sort of large transit center, with a grand-central-station sized atrium which had a long plexiglass wall past which you could see the trains running by. Off the atrium, there were also meeting rooms available. And in one of these there was a group of the usual dream-SCA suspects gathered for a meeting. For some reason Margaret and Kristoff were there too, and Margaret had been entrusted with a collection of flutes that had belonged to some educational institution or other that she was supposed to sell. The prize of the bunch was a bass flute that was shaped in deep S-curves like a serpent and I desired it immensely, but was balking at the $7000 price tag, whereas a simple octave flute could be had for a mere $1000. In the course of this, I got thirsty and went out into the atrium to find a drinking fountain. (Dream motifs of drinking fountains mean I'm sleeping with my mouth open and it's dried out.) While I'm getting one of those unsatisfying dream-drinks, the lights cut out in the transit center and then all the transit employees come streaming out into the atrium saying that the city is under attack and we have to leave. (Rationally speaking, I can't see that we were exactly safer out on the streets than in the transit center, but maybe it was anticipated to be a target.)
So the collection of SCA-folk from the meeting room starts running off down the street. For some reason, none of us had a vehicle. And overhead there are planes going by and there are dollops of fire raining down, but it isn't nasty napalm-like fire but more like the flame of an alcohol lamp, but with no more effect when it hits you than a spark from a campfire -- you can beat it out with your hands with no significant damage. After we'd run a few blocks, we all stop and I turn to the rest of the people and say, 'Look, we really ought to have someone in charge here, and since I'm bossy and have Control Issues, I'm willing to be nominated to be it.' At which I was immediately unanimously voted into the position and we started strategizing about whose house was going to be the easiest to get to with the city infrastructure gone haywire. (Note: "because I'm bossy and have control issues" is not random dream-logic. That part's true. I just keep in under control most of the time.)
This is about the point where I woke up and did an immediate plot-review of the dream so that I'd be able to journal it later. After getting up to pee, I went back to sleep and continued the same dream.
It was revealed at this point, that the people who were in charge at the transit center were "the rabbits" and the people attacking the city were "the hares" and that the group I was with were random bystanders to the conflict and were "the squirrels". These groups were identifiable by small stylized lapel pins, but since we were all completely human in appearance, you could disguise yourself as a member of a different group simply by obtaining the right lapel pin. It also came out that the falling gouts of fire that we'd been caught in were a by-product of the ariel defense mounted by the rabbits, not a part of the attack by the hares.
And then a bunch of us were in a car, careening along a cliff-side road, trying to make it to a ship that was a key to our success/escape/something-or-other.
About the same time I was dreaming about gouts of fire falling from the sky, a gasoline tank truck exploded about 2 miles from my house, destroying two sections of the "Macarthur Maze" freeway intersection. (No deaths reported.) It's quite possible that the sound woke me up, but I'm so used to waking up randomly at that time of the morning that it would never occur to me to look for a cause.
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no subject
Date: 2007-04-29 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-29 09:40 pm (UTC)My dreams last night were even less pleasant. Must be something going around.
MKK
no subject
Date: 2007-04-30 04:18 am (UTC)