(no subject)
I dreamed last night I killed James Gandolfini. He was trying to assissinate a group of my friends, so we rallied together to shoot him. Then I had to kill a little boy in India with a plastic knife. I stabbed him and twisted the knife in his chest while his grandmother stood next to me and watched. I don't know if he died, but the grandma's objectivity and surrender was disarming. She stood firm and disengaged. Definitely the most troubling aspect of the sequence.
Figured out the symbols in my waking life. Incidentally the Jimmy Gandolfini character called me shortly after I awoke. Offered to come over to discuss scheduling issues regarding our work together. After chatting with friends (shout out to mulaohu for her early morning listening ear), I've figured out a way to push Gandolfini to the side in our work and limit her steam rolling crazy-making. That is, I don't have to quit our collaboration altogether. About the Indian kid...I think my "creative baby" can be saved. I don't have to stab it just yet, per se. Or if I have to, I can take on the grandmother's objectivity and know that everything is going to be okay.