Dreams
July 18, 2011
I dreamt vividly last night, which never happens. The first dream involved a tour of a fictional new building on the UWO campus, on a private tour of which my dad, for some reason, had been invited. I don't remember how conflict broke out but we were the only ones (I hope) in the topmost section of the building when an explosive canister containing some kind of poisonous gas was hurled into it. After a very short debate, we decided to flee the building, and I remember stopping my family in a lower passage at a window, instinctively predicting the precise moment when the canister exploded, taking part of the building - visible in the window - with it. We rushed to Taylor library, somehow wanting to avoid being apprehended, even though we weren't actually guilty, and the rest of the dream involves more fictional back passages and elevators in Taylor.
The second dream put me as a singer and composer for an a cappella sextet with members whom I don't recognize, performing in this crazy church space. When we climbed the stairs we found ourselves on an upper level that resembled a druidic stone construction site, and we sang some pieces there before attempting for the first time a piece I had written (in the dream) in memory of my late grandfather. I remember not having a pitch pipe and having to get our pitches from a tuning fork, and some of the group having trouble with it. I remember the piece started with humming and that some people forgot to sing the words when they started.
The last dream may or may not have been related, and all I remember is that there was a party, and apparently two people who went to Cawthra Park S.S. were helping to invite people because they enthusiastically recommended inviting their music teacher, Mr. Anderson, because "he would love to come".
For someone who doesn't often remember dreams, and doesn't often have dreams that aren't directly applicable to the next day's events, this is pretty strange.
P.S. Why would a meteorologist make a bad maid of honour? (You might only get a small chance of showers.)
I dreamt vividly last night, which never happens. The first dream involved a tour of a fictional new building on the UWO campus, on a private tour of which my dad, for some reason, had been invited. I don't remember how conflict broke out but we were the only ones (I hope) in the topmost section of the building when an explosive canister containing some kind of poisonous gas was hurled into it. After a very short debate, we decided to flee the building, and I remember stopping my family in a lower passage at a window, instinctively predicting the precise moment when the canister exploded, taking part of the building - visible in the window - with it. We rushed to Taylor library, somehow wanting to avoid being apprehended, even though we weren't actually guilty, and the rest of the dream involves more fictional back passages and elevators in Taylor.
The second dream put me as a singer and composer for an a cappella sextet with members whom I don't recognize, performing in this crazy church space. When we climbed the stairs we found ourselves on an upper level that resembled a druidic stone construction site, and we sang some pieces there before attempting for the first time a piece I had written (in the dream) in memory of my late grandfather. I remember not having a pitch pipe and having to get our pitches from a tuning fork, and some of the group having trouble with it. I remember the piece started with humming and that some people forgot to sing the words when they started.
The last dream may or may not have been related, and all I remember is that there was a party, and apparently two people who went to Cawthra Park S.S. were helping to invite people because they enthusiastically recommended inviting their music teacher, Mr. Anderson, because "he would love to come".
For someone who doesn't often remember dreams, and doesn't often have dreams that aren't directly applicable to the next day's events, this is pretty strange.
P.S. Why would a meteorologist make a bad maid of honour? (You might only get a small chance of showers.)