Too many martinis before bed no doubt
I had the most amazing dream a couple of nights ago. All about the journeys through the Underworld and descent into Hell. Which was mostly just really cool actually, and not at all frightening.
My dreams do tend to be very vivid and instructive but I generally get too involved in the fabric of the dream and don't remember to simply enjoy it. Also I don't usually remember my dreams in enough detail to tell.
.
The dream begins in a big stone room, containing long wood tables and a hol heap of people, with random sprinklings of some I know: mzdt, rhodri, some people from my school, a colleague from a few years back, an assortment of clients.
It looked a little like a reunion, I mingled and met a man in a red plaid shirt who could turn into a werewolf at will, and we talked about astrology and the psychological meaning of underground journeys.
I realised moving through the dream that the big stone room was attached to an open space , which was a cross between a courtyard and a cemetery. The courtyard was shadowed, and cold and it contained a structure like a stone well or a mine shaft, which you could descend into because there were stone stairs leading down down down.
In the dream I was here to support one of my clients who had a lot of trials and tasks to complete and we were here to help her get through it. The first task involved being commissioned by a Leprechaun to write an article on the symbolism of Bigfoot* which I volunteered for and it seemed easy enough.
The second task however meant going out into the courtyard and descending into the well/mine thing. I went into the courtyard even though I was apprehensive because it was dark and cold, and the well/mine thing filled me with terror. But then the werewolf man came bounding out after me and shouter that I must not go down there, that it was something my client had to do herself.
Then the werewolf man sprouted wings and turned into a gryffon and my client, mzdt, a woman who introduced herself as the Queen of Cats and I climbed onto the gryffon's back and he flew down into the well/mine warning us that at no time should our feet touch the stairs because then we would be lost. And the werewolf flew on into its darkness and asked me about the meaning of Pluto in Scorpio.
The mine was narrow and cold and ivy and roots snagged at our faces. This was the part of our journey which made me afraid because I could not see an end to the descent and at each bend in the stairs a new zombie like creature waited. The zombies would reach out to snag at my client and try and pull us down onto the stairs. And even though they were reaching out for her, their touch felt like iceburn and we could all feel echoes of her pain. And as we got lower and lower the stairs became a corridor and then a series of rooms each containing something painful [e.g. images of childhood happiness, all the more poignant for knowing that time was gone and could never be recaptured] until at last we came to Hell.
The gateway to Hell was a place made of red dust and a Devil stood there. He had an impressive pair of horns and red glowing eyes and I wasn't afraid of him because I've never believed in The Devil and he escorted us cordially into the Underworld and gave us a tour.
I was very interested in Hell never having visited before and the thing that struck me the most was that Hell was not a place of pitchforks and fire and torments, but instead the place of endless small frustrations. I saw a man who had been a thief condemned to wear a big Hamburger costume and give out free tombola tickets to tourists. There was a whole room (a bit like a SureStart creche) full of irritating children where all the toys had something wrong with them - ie. all the puzzles had a few pieces missing, a toy where a plastic orangutang had to be slotted through an orangutang-shaped hole was made in just such a way that you could never quite get the orangutang to fit and so on.
ANd on we went through hell and saw people waiting in queues for civil servants who only worked an hour a day and who always demanded more paperwork which meant more queues and adminstrative fees and so on.
I remember marvelling at it all and then the scenery changed and we came to a bar and a ballroom. At first I thought everyone was wearing masks, but then realised that everyone in fact had a humanoid body and the head of an animal. They all wore wigs though, and elaborate costumes which hung in tatters. My client's first task was to be behind the bar and serve them drinks and we tried to help by throwing water on her because the bar was very hot.
I wanted to go dance at the ball but the queen of cats warned me against it and instead we had to complete a puzzle in which a series of wooden blocks put together made the figure of Jesus.
When the puzzle was done we continued our journey through Hell and went to a second ball during which to my delight we were allowed to dance. It was however a dance I had never heard of, according to the werewolf "The Dance of Francisco and Federica". We bowed gracefully to one another and then he showed the Queen of Cats and me the moves and I could see everyone in the ballroom circling gracefully in their elaborate rags and not long after we began to dance I woke up.
Do you normally remember your dreams? Do they seem whacked and elaborate?
*I am not on drugs I promise. My subconscious is a surreal and random place.
My dreams do tend to be very vivid and instructive but I generally get too involved in the fabric of the dream and don't remember to simply enjoy it. Also I don't usually remember my dreams in enough detail to tell.
.
The dream begins in a big stone room, containing long wood tables and a hol heap of people, with random sprinklings of some I know: mzdt, rhodri, some people from my school, a colleague from a few years back, an assortment of clients.
It looked a little like a reunion, I mingled and met a man in a red plaid shirt who could turn into a werewolf at will, and we talked about astrology and the psychological meaning of underground journeys.
I realised moving through the dream that the big stone room was attached to an open space , which was a cross between a courtyard and a cemetery. The courtyard was shadowed, and cold and it contained a structure like a stone well or a mine shaft, which you could descend into because there were stone stairs leading down down down.
In the dream I was here to support one of my clients who had a lot of trials and tasks to complete and we were here to help her get through it. The first task involved being commissioned by a Leprechaun to write an article on the symbolism of Bigfoot* which I volunteered for and it seemed easy enough.
The second task however meant going out into the courtyard and descending into the well/mine thing. I went into the courtyard even though I was apprehensive because it was dark and cold, and the well/mine thing filled me with terror. But then the werewolf man came bounding out after me and shouter that I must not go down there, that it was something my client had to do herself.
Then the werewolf man sprouted wings and turned into a gryffon and my client, mzdt, a woman who introduced herself as the Queen of Cats and I climbed onto the gryffon's back and he flew down into the well/mine warning us that at no time should our feet touch the stairs because then we would be lost. And the werewolf flew on into its darkness and asked me about the meaning of Pluto in Scorpio.
The mine was narrow and cold and ivy and roots snagged at our faces. This was the part of our journey which made me afraid because I could not see an end to the descent and at each bend in the stairs a new zombie like creature waited. The zombies would reach out to snag at my client and try and pull us down onto the stairs. And even though they were reaching out for her, their touch felt like iceburn and we could all feel echoes of her pain. And as we got lower and lower the stairs became a corridor and then a series of rooms each containing something painful [e.g. images of childhood happiness, all the more poignant for knowing that time was gone and could never be recaptured] until at last we came to Hell.
The gateway to Hell was a place made of red dust and a Devil stood there. He had an impressive pair of horns and red glowing eyes and I wasn't afraid of him because I've never believed in The Devil and he escorted us cordially into the Underworld and gave us a tour.
I was very interested in Hell never having visited before and the thing that struck me the most was that Hell was not a place of pitchforks and fire and torments, but instead the place of endless small frustrations. I saw a man who had been a thief condemned to wear a big Hamburger costume and give out free tombola tickets to tourists. There was a whole room (a bit like a SureStart creche) full of irritating children where all the toys had something wrong with them - ie. all the puzzles had a few pieces missing, a toy where a plastic orangutang had to be slotted through an orangutang-shaped hole was made in just such a way that you could never quite get the orangutang to fit and so on.
ANd on we went through hell and saw people waiting in queues for civil servants who only worked an hour a day and who always demanded more paperwork which meant more queues and adminstrative fees and so on.
I remember marvelling at it all and then the scenery changed and we came to a bar and a ballroom. At first I thought everyone was wearing masks, but then realised that everyone in fact had a humanoid body and the head of an animal. They all wore wigs though, and elaborate costumes which hung in tatters. My client's first task was to be behind the bar and serve them drinks and we tried to help by throwing water on her because the bar was very hot.
I wanted to go dance at the ball but the queen of cats warned me against it and instead we had to complete a puzzle in which a series of wooden blocks put together made the figure of Jesus.
When the puzzle was done we continued our journey through Hell and went to a second ball during which to my delight we were allowed to dance. It was however a dance I had never heard of, according to the werewolf "The Dance of Francisco and Federica". We bowed gracefully to one another and then he showed the Queen of Cats and me the moves and I could see everyone in the ballroom circling gracefully in their elaborate rags and not long after we began to dance I woke up.
Do you normally remember your dreams? Do they seem whacked and elaborate?
*I am not on drugs I promise. My subconscious is a surreal and random place.