I dream that my sister is teaching Gran about art history with very poor results. Why is everyone is this family so DUMB?! She cries. I’m sitting at their table making Gran tennis shoes from scratch; I use a yellow t-shirt that belonged to my uncle, he’s not happy about it and demands I make another, identical, one. I panic because I only vaguely remember what the t-shirt looked like, there was a face with bags under their eyes. I draw a tired yellow emoji in MS paint and print it on a fresh shirt.
Tag: art
Confirmed, Twice
I dream that I’m working at the new store, the one above our regular store that I dreamed about last week. I’ve always wondered, when something seems familiar, is it because I’ve legit dreamed about if before or is it just my mind playing tricks? Well, now I know! This time I’m wearing a name tag on my chest that says “I’m new, please be gentle with me.” Indeed I’m so slow that my cousin kicks me out.
The next day I don’t want to go to work, I’m not even sure if they actually hired me back or if this is all just a dream. I go out with friends instead, we stop to buy pizza but the guy behind the counter seems very unhygienic, I slip away without my friends noticing. I’m hungry now and it’s night already, I stop at a restaurant that is just a series of tables under the stars. I’m very suspicious about hygienic standards, I order a simple cheese pizza (the least dangerous, I assume), it takes them ages to bring it to the table.
The next morning I’m walking home after skipping work once again, I hear someone calling me, I look up and see my neighbor C. waving at me from the attic window. I go up to her and she’s sitting at a table eating, she starts telling me all about some gossip she heard (typical!) when a goose flies in from the window, a big brown goose, rather angry. It starts honking at C.’s ear, doesn’t calm down until it’s offered some food.
I close all the doors and windows in case the goose wants to come back, then go down the stairs. I’m in a beautiful old mansion that belongs to my grandfather. It used to be in ruins when I was a kid, now my uncle has renovated and it’s so beautiful it looks more like a museum. I know once grandgfather dies my uncle will kick us out and I wish I could show all of this to my penpal in time, but she’s visited me just a few days ago (I DO dream about old dreams!) and it’s gonna be a while before she comes back. Maybe I’ll give her a virtual tour, once new technologies allow it.
I look at the portraits on the walls and imagine what I would say to 18th century people to explain TV screens.
It’s like a big mirror, but instead of yourself you see other people and stories. It’s connected by a series of wires that transfer electricity, it’s the stuff lighting bolts are made of.
My uncle arrives and catches me looking at his art collection. Just like grandfather, this guy isn’t one of my IRL uncles, he’s a short, balding man with glasses, and expensive suit and a nervous expression. He notices I’m crying because I’m so moved by all these beautiful neoclassical statues, he says he cries all the time too, maybe he can get along with my siblings and I after all.
We organize a sack race so we can bond, I’m a teen girl, I have a teen brother and a toddler sister, suspiciously similar to A Series of Unfortunate Events characters. The toddler wins the race.
I Was Just Thinking I Haven’t Done A Puzzle Since Like Fourth Grade
I dream that I’m rushing back home because I forgot my mask. I walk past a toy store and inside I see the old man we used to buy toys from when I was a child. He grins at me. His wife was just saying they need to hire someone to help out in the store, I take a mental note of that.
I arrive at my building, take the stairs but my apartment’s floor is now a hospital ward, rows and rows of white bed with red-eyed children. They stare at me. A nurse runs towards me and says I can’t stay here, this is the Coronavirus ward.
I eventually find my apartment. It looks nothing like my actual apartment, and this knowledge almost triggers a lucid dream, but not quite. I go to my bedroom and find my sister there, making her own bed next to mine. I’m so upset I’ll have once again to share a room with her that I grab all her bed sheets and dump them outside the door. Then, feeling guilty, I tell my sister the I sent a letter to Noelle Stevenson to showcase her art. Noelle sent back a puzzle as a thank you gift.
The Old Woman With A Face Like Art
I’m convinced I’m having a lucid dream, and I’m not, really, I’m just walking around, but I feel in total control. I choose my path between beautiful valleys and lively villages, I see naked peasants happily working their fields.
I take an old woman by the hand: she has a kind, innocent face, and she follows me with the utmost trust. I’m afraid she’ll be lost and confused in the city so far away from her home, so I lead her into an old church, hoping it will look familiar. The walls inside are covered with beautiful frescoes, and as we sit on a wooden bench her face looks like art too, maybe an oil portrait, her wrinkles rosy and bathed in soft light, so different from anyone else’s face.
The priests and cardinals inside the church stand up in their fancy black and red dresses, they angrily debate about things that shouldn’t matter. The old woman stands up too, a light in her eyes, and I know she’s about to teach them an important lesson.
I wake up.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 