THE MINISTER'S DANCE (9/17/01)

Billy Graham was preaching in a manner not unlike that of the WTC memorial service. This was taking place in a large wooded area, with so many densely packed trees that natural light had a hard time getting through. Graham seemed old and tired, pausing during his sermon. Of particular note was when he made reference to the Valley of the Shadow of Death; this was a recurring theme and he repeated it as he spoke.

Next, I was a viewer (as opposed to a participant) winding my way through the actual (dream version of) Death Valley. This valley quickly led underground to a series of caves, small dark and flooded halfway with water. There were no markers, so it was easy to get lost here. That felt like a danger, and another was the threat of drowning if you went into the caves too far and hit a deep patch of water. The caves had an extremely claustrophobic feeling to them, being as dark and remote as they were. The crawlspace was not very high, as you could touch the ceiling with your arms stretched up directly above you. The water was at least waist deep in most areas, and much higher in others.

Amidst the caves there was a woman, bathing in the caves. She was beautiful, like a model, with long dark brown hair. Her back was to me at first, and she bathed leisurely, completely unconcerned with her odd surroundings. At this point there was a feeling that a way out of the caves existed, and before I knew it, the woman finished bathing and headed off to leave. I followed, turning more into a participant in the dream as this continued.

She emerged in a hotel room and quickly found her way to a large theater-type of hotel ballroom. (I believe she was dressed in red.) There was a large pulpit-stage, and standing at a microphone was Billy Graham, preaching a totally different sermon. The woman found her way to a table on an upper balcony, and her personality gradually blossomed to the point that she was openly talking while the minister continued addressing his audience. He was just getting started speaking, and wondering if everyone was there. No one seemed to mind the woman as she talked, as she was so charming and graceful. She beamed like a celebrity.

I too found a place to sit on this upper balcony, near where the woman was. I could see directly down to where Graham was standing. He took notice of the woman whom he recognized, and I could see that he looked much younger than he had in the woods. He addressed her and I could tell that his sermon now only passingly referred to religion. Their conversation was light yet personal, he summoned her to the stage and then she was there with him. Then they began dancing to music that now felt as though it had been playing all along but had only just grown louder. It was very lyrical to watch.

Then I woke up.

So this dream started off immediately with me having intercourse with a girl. She was completely fictitious, not based at all on anyone I really know, and I don't remember her having been in any dreams prior to this. Her ethnicity was indistinct, but she was tan and toned, and she had long dark brown curly hair. She was about my height, and I think she was a cheerleader; there was an athletic aura about her. She was younger than me but not dramatically so, maybe by about five years. And she was a bit on the serious side for her age, but I still thought of her as a kid to some degree.

We were going at it doggie-style on the bathroom floor, taking our sweet time. The bathroom was like the one in this house, but slightly bigger, and it was in an apartment (she and I were living together) although for a moment there was the vibe like my mother and sisters were in the house. That passed quickly. While she and I were bucking in the heat of the moment, I noticed that her head was resting disturbingly close to the toilet plunger beside the sink. I tried to position her out of the way of it since that really bothered me - apparently more than it did her - then ended up just stopping for a second so I could move it out of the way.

We finished and went to bed. We had another roommate and there were pictures of her around the apartment. It was a friend of hers, who my girlfriend had lived with before we'd moved in together. Even though she and I had been seeing each other for a little while (at least long enough for us to move in together) I'd never actually met her roommate. From her pictures I could see this other girl was very attractive too, but in a different way. Her body type was larger, and she was heavier than my girlfriend. She had a nice smile though, and as we fell asleep I knew she was elsewhere in the apartment.

The next morning I got up and made my way to the living room. My girlfriend was already up and getting ready to go out. I walked into the living room to find two people sitting at a table, a man and a woman. They seemed to belong there, so I just kind of said hello and sat on the sofa. The woman responded more than the man, who was very focused on some papers in front of him. They could have been tax forms or a contract or classifieds from a newspaper, but whatever they were he was more interested in them than he was in his ladyfriend.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but notice that the lady seemed very familiar. She was dressed in a casual yet elegant way, with a white silk pant suit. The top was sleeveless with a collar, and crested in a "V" between her ample cleavage. Her hair was curly and brown with slight highlights, and pulled back and up. She was also wearing a lot of makeup which lightened her complexion; I didn't believe she needed it. She was a very attractive woman. Then it dawned on me (it took a while) that this was my girlfriend's roommate. I spoke to her and we engaged in a light friendly conversation.

My girlfriend then came out of the bedroom, saw that the outfit she'd picked didn't quite match what her friend was wearing, and headed back to change it. I spoke to the roommate again, and the man who now seemed like her boyfriend got up and beckoned for them to leave. He didn't seem to either like or trust me, but wasn't willing to confront me directly about anything. I had a remembrance of being told about this guy and that he exhibited jealous tendencies. The two of them made for the door, and he went outside to their car. She hung back and waited for my girlfriend...

...Who emerged from the bedroom once again, now dressed in a white silk outfit of her own with a matching baseball cap. The top was a sleeveless basketball jersey with black numbers (I think "zero-one"), worn loose at the bottom. The pants were form fitting, hung a little low on the waist with flares at the bottom. Standing beside her roommate, she was smaller yet had a more commanding prescence. The two seemed to get along so well they felt like sisters for a moment. They were both very attractive. She grabbed her keys and went to leave when I made a comment about her rushing off without a "goodbye" or anything. I was trying to joke, but I felt a slight rush of insecurity just then. She looked at me, then came over and gave me a brief hug and a kiss, then was gone.

My insecurity continued even after she'd left though. We'd only just hooked-up, but would she leave me for someone else? Did she care about me as much as I did about her? Just as troublesome, were these worries normal? I didn't have a whole lot of experience to compare these feelings to, and I didn't know...maybe this was how all relationships were. Maybe I was overreacting and this was how normal members of a couple related to each other. Nothing bad had happened really, she just felt a little distant. Maybe that was just my misplaced expectations...I was considering all of these possibilities.

Then I woke up.

Certain elements of this dream are extremly vague, but the main goal I had throughout it was very clear, and it came to fruition.

J. and Dave P. were combined throughout the dream, at times physically resembling one then the other. They were one person. There was also a female companion of some sort, an older white lady (who loosely reminded me of Madeline who used to work at the Center School). The lady was taking me to see an artist who I wanted to buy something off of.

This artist worked in a lot of different mediums and had a book that I'd seen before. (More than likely this was what J./Dave had done, shown me the book previously.) The book consisted of a series of graphic works, paintings and illustrations done by the artist. Every single page was an original illustration, not a reproduction, and they were all done in varying media and on varying stocks of paper or board. Yet somehow it all came together, and was bound expertly and neatly. There were more of these books, and I wanted one.

The female companion brought me to the place where the artist resided. It was a large apartment building, on the outskirts of town (it felt like Monroeville, and the building seemed oddly out of place for where it was situated, distant from other buildings). The sky was cloudy and the overall pall to the day was gloomy; the sky held the potential for rain. I wanted to conclude my business fairly quickly.

Once inside the building, it was lit pretty brightly, although that might have been in contrast to the weather outside. I went in by myself, and took an elevator up to the floor where the artist was. I wasn't exactly sure where he or she would be at, but I just knew I'd recognize it once I found it. And I did -- the apartment I wanted was right off of the elevator. I knocked at the door and was let inside. It was stunningly bright inside this place, even by comparison with the rest of the building.

This space was obviously a combination of many things for the artist. It was large, and there were many rooms (which I never really saw, only felt existed in that "dream knowledge" way) that were off-limits, but didn't relate to my business anyway. Those would have been the living quarters. The first rooms you entered however were filled with neatly organized artwork, some of which was immense, other pieces very small and could be held easily. Again, they were all crafted in a variety of mediums and displayed a very erratic yet prolific mind. I searched throughout for the book I wanted, carefully going through all of the other works.

These rooms were extremely clean, almost like a hospital in its sense of sterility. Like a studio that was kept immaculate. But there was also a sense of categorization that made it feel like an office or place of business. Indeed, there was another person there with me at times, someone who may have been the artist but seemed like an assistant to the artist. This person (male...female...?) was dressed in black, with a short sleeved shirt and their hair pulled back. She offered to help me, and guided me through everything, but mostly just left me to myself. In time I did indeed find the book I was looking for.

It had been reproduced many times over actually, amazing for a work of such diversity. I picked a copy and immediately began looking for the two main illustrations that had caught my attention originally. I found that while the individual books were mostly the same, they weren't quite identical; certain illustrations were different in every volume. This didn't bother me, but it was important that I found a volume that had both of the two renderings I was searching for. And I did indeed find one.

The first illustration was a black ink sketch, done on a tracing-paper type of vellum. It was rather small, only taking up about a quarter of the page it was on, but I was very intrigued by the layout and design. It was of a male figure twisting back and upwards, draped partially in a robe or loincloth-toga with hands clenched and arms upraised. The figurework was loose and simple, and the use of lighting was very dramatic. I took special notice of the way the hands and fingers were shaded.

The second illustration was a full page full color one, rendered in the style of the artist who designed characters for the AEON FLUX cartoon. It looked to have been rendered in pastels or crayon, with tighter linework than the other drawing. A series of interlocking figures of varying sizes were placed in such a manner that together they formed a gigantic cross. Males and females, all nude, arms outstretched or tucked in to their sides, at first glance they appeared to be placed randomly but as I studied it, I was fascinated at the complexity of the composition.

I paid the person for the book and left. I was extremely happy with my purchase. Then I woke up.

There was a group of people convened at my Aunt Myrtle's place. They were a combination of friends and family, with no one very distinct except for at least one person. It was mostly guys, and we were all involved in an activity that felt like horseplay, but it was extremely organized and everyone took it very seriously.

We were all dressed in STAR WARS outfits, and role-playing as different characters. We all had actual working light sabers and were dualing one another. This was at once a game and completely serious. These battles were meant to result in injury to the other party, yet it didn't seem as though anyone had been hurt yet. In between fights we would talk to each other and joke around just like normal.

I was a Jedi knight, like Obi-Wan Kenobi or Luke Skywalker (maybe even a combination of them), and at some point I had to do battle with the only other person in the dream who stood out, my friend Derek. He was a combination of Darth Vader (without the mask) and Darth Maul. He had the complexion of Vader, but the horns and light-staff of Maul. As Derek and I headed outside to fight, we chatted. He was in a particularly good mood; I was actually scared. This fight was meant to be to the death, no matter what. We lit up our weapons and prepped for battle, and I tried not to let on that I was on the verge of panicking -- I certainly didn't want to die. Yet Derek was so casual about everything, I didn't want to look like a punk either.

Then I woke up.

I was with a group of people who felt like friends, but none of them were specifically identifiable. During the course of the dream we were being pushed by a large unseen force through a huge dark shopping-mall-type building. By "pushed" I mean we were made to go through it from one end to the other by a series of occurances. Whatever was orchestrating this was determined to move us outside.

And that's where we eventually ended up. It was nighttime, and there was a vaguely post-apocalyptic feel to the surroundings. The things which were prodding us along continued for a bit, but at some point I came to realize that it was a set-up; it was dangerous for us to continue forth. We had to go BACK, through the mall to wherever we'd originally come from.

Somehow I just knew we'd overlooked the reason why we'd set out in the first place and it was imperative for us to go back. We retreated, and I was to some degree in charge. As we prepared to reenter the mall, we found our way blocked by the strangest of barricades...

...The upper fragments of the Statue of Liberty lay directly in our path, directly in the path which we'd just come through. They were IMMENSE and ominous, lifeless and large. I found myself standing directly beneath the face, marveling and cowed by its size.

Two things were even more unsettling about it. First, the Statue had not been there when we'd first come out of the mall, and only a being of staggering power could have placed it there so quickly and unnoticed. A divine or omnipotent force (yes, maybe God). Secondly, this Statue was not constructed of metal but of SAND! The rest of the landscape was completely devoid of anything resembling such a material. We were in the middle of the city. (This dream-mall felt loosely based on Allegheny Center Mall on the North Side.)

As scary as this was, some members of our party were also intrigued by the Statue, and began climbing up onto it. We had to do this anyway to make our way back, but now some people wanted to explore the sculpture. (It did indeed look something like the famous scene from PLANET OF THE APES.) I heard some of them suggest going inside the head and the torch.

I immediately tensed up and told them not to proceed. That would prove fatal, I was sure. The Statue was constructed of sand and was VERY unstable inside - I just knew this somehow - no matter how accurate a reproduction it might have been. If they went inside, it was sure to collapse in on them. And I knew that this was a big test for us all, to see if our curiousity would get the better of us. Our lives were at stake.

They were just starting to listen to me when I either woke up or moved on to another part of this dream.

So once again I'm back in school. My family and I are living in another house - this one resembling a trailer, we've never been in it before for a change! - and it seemed like myself and my sisters were back in school. I was going through either grade or middle school, and I was repeating a specific year. My mother was the only one who didn't have to do this, but she had a full time job, and every morning we'd make the commute in to our respective places together.

Oddly enough, at home I was a full grown adult, but at school I was regressed to the age of my classmates, who ranged between 8 and 14. Also different was that most of these children were NOT based on people I actually knew. Instead they were based on characters on television shows who'd gone to school. For instance, the nerds from MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE were ALL there (as were the parents at one point, and they were typically horny and making out!), and the rest of the dreamcast was formed of made-up kids.

Auditions were being held for a school play or talent show of some kind, and I remember a Pippi Longstocking-type girl singing at the top of her lungs to make the cut. I was slated to perform, but the dream was extremely vague as to what I was going to do, which didn't seem to be very important.

At home however I was THOROUGHLY DEPRESSED about this whole going back to school business. The last thing in the dream I remember was sitting in the living room on an overcast morning while we all braced ourselves for the day ahead, thinking of reasons to avoid going in for the day. I was actually considering not going back at all, 'cause I was just BURNED OUT with it all; it just seemed like it was never going to end. Yet I knew I HAD to complete this grade. There was literally a court-ordered mandate to that effect, so if I skipped out now I'd have to get back to it sooner or later.

Regardless, I was running every possibility through my head this morning. I wasn't feeling too great, and I thought about just saying I was flat-out sick and ditching for the day. I knew I'd never taken a day off for any reason before, so I'd get away with it for at least a bit. But I also knew that if I did the chances of my going back were slim to none. Then I focused on having breakfast at the school for some reason, and that perked me up...don't ask me why. The school had an outstanding cafeteria with great food and a large seating area, more like a restaurant than anything else, so as long as you were seated in time you were guaranteed a good meal.

Somewhere in there my family and I watched an episode of the old television show CARD SHARKS. As we did, I had flashbacks and recalled a time period from when I was about 8 years old -- that's when this episode took place. My mother and her older sister Myrtle were the contestants on the show, and it was a Christmas episode...yet the host made a point of celebrating the fact that it was their birthday. (In real life they share a birthday of April 1st, April Fool's Day believe it or not. Two years apart to the day.) I could vaguely recall the time period the show took place in, and seemed to be filling in some details about the actual taping in my head. Other details however avoided me.

Towards the end of the show, the host said there was a surprise for them, which seemed more oriented toward Myrtle who was the more talkative of the two. Out in the audience her kids stood up and there were younger versions of her sons, my cousins. Just ahead of them in the next row was a black quartet dressed in powder-blue tuxedoes and everybody started singing an oddly harmonious version of Happy Birthday. There were streamers and ribbons and balloons dropped from above...and eventually I woke up.

I had this dream earlier this week, but I'm only just now getting around to recording it.

A few friends and I are at a large mall, specifically at a toy store. We seemed to be browsing more than anything, and they had an AWESOME toy selection, geared more towards collectors than anything else. There were numerous novelty packs of toys that grouped large action figures according to themes. These could be characters from a single company or different companies, as long as the theme was consistant.

It was nighttime, and this mall was pretty far out of the way, and in time they had to close. I don't remember us purchasing anything, but in time we piled into our car and headed off for home.

The car was big like a sedan, but there was no back seat so the four of us piled into the front together. It was a tight squeeze. Now I don't know for sure who two of the friends were, although they could have been Dave Posner or/and J; I do know that the driver was Chris Rock. And he was making his way along the winding backroads of wherever in the world we were at. The weather took a turn for the worse too which didn't help our situation one bit. The dark sky grew foggy and a hail-sleet began to fall and stick to the windshield.

Rock used the windshield-wipers, but they didn't seem to be working. I was sitting one person over from the passenger side, and as tight as the fit was, there still seemed liked a large distance between us. He was driving with such focus I had to ask him if he could see out of his side clearer than we could, since I couldn't tell. He didn't respond so I repeated my question many times, then grew frustrated when he wouldn't answer me. I was worried that our driver was being unresponsive with our lives at stake. The road was now winding so bad that it was hard to tell if the car was on solid ground or skidding everywhere -

- then we ground to an immediate stop. Just like that.

We were caught in a sudden light, and the car went completely immobile. Rock tried to key the ignition, but I knew that was of no use. This thing was going nowhere. Confused, we tried to get our bearings, and the car felt like it was rising from the ground. (Yeah, this became another alien-themed dream...I guess I have a one track mind.) Now we started to panic a bit, but I realized we had to get OUT OF THE CAR. That was the only way we stood a chance of escaping this. I tried to get the other three to move, but they wouldn't or couldn't; now they were all unresponsive.

Knowing there was no way I could get them out, I stirred myself to action and opened the passenger side door. I crawled over my one friend and got out of the car. In retrospect I'm not sure if I hit the ground or not, but I found traction on something and began running. I was momentarily surprised that I felt as free as I did and allowed myself the belief that I could escape...then I was frozen in the air too. Completely paralyzed. It was obviously a discomforting feeling, and I tried to glance back at the car to see if my friends were faring any better, although I knew they weren't.

Then I experienced one of those strange moments of calm where I figured this was all so bizarre it might perhaps be a dream. I purposely closed my eyes and concentrated for a second...then I woke up.

I'm still trying to figure out the punchline.

There were two distinct parts to this dream. I guess they'd each qualify as nightmares.

In the first, J. and I (and possibly some other people) spent part of the night at a strip club. It was a combination of Anthony's and the Cricket and Club Erotica, and featured not only the dancing that's expected, but out-and-out prostitution. J then dropped me off at home, where I found myself wired and unable to sleep. I changed clothes and piddled around the house, and ended up on the phone with J once he got back to his place. We decided to go back to the club, since they were open twenty-four hours and apparently money wasn't a big consideration.

Everyone in my house was awake, yet unaware of my plans. J arrived quickly, and by now it was about 3am. I still had to change clothes but before I could we took notice of how odd it looked outside. Stepping out onto the front porch, I could see the night sky was fully illuminated toward the south; it looked exactly like daylight, but with the moon and stars burning through. At the top of the hill to the north, it was still night. The landscape of this dream was different than others, as the full cityscape and view of downtown was visble just over the rise at the top of the hill. There was also a clear view of the convergence of the three rivers.

We all puzzled over why it was for all intents and purposes daylight, and a gradual feeling of unease surfaced. Then we watched as at least three immense pod-missile-type objects soared through the sky. We panicked, and came to the conclusion that "they've finally done it" and someone had ordered a nuclear strike. There was a sudden remembrance of news reports of tensions between our country and other foreign superpowers, and this all now felt inevitable. The daylight was obviously the flash of the first missles exploding. We were all doomed. A million thoughts raced through my mind, mostly if we should stop and take shelter or if our deaths were unavoidable at this point.

In a previous dream my mother and I stood in the middle of our street as nuclear warheads struck. The flash of the light grew closer and closer and as it came to engulf us the ground itself gave way, and even the bricks of the street fell away. I recalled this in my new dream, and waited for something similar to happen. The pods landed now in the heart of downtown Pittsburgh, larger than the skyscapers. I'd thought for sure that they were the bombs themselves, and were going to expode but they instead sort of rooted themselves in place. They stood so large over the landscape that even though they were miles away, they still seemed to loom directly over you. A huge stream of energy blasted from all of the pods upwards into the night sky, now brightening everything. There must have been other pods elsewhere doing the same thing...this was what was causing the unnatural early morning.

And amidst all of this apocalyptic chaos...I suddenly had a moment of calm and reason. I knew now that these weren't nuclear bombs, so we weren't all going to die. At least not right away. There was a CHANCE we could survive whatever was happening. And judging by the immensity and scale of the pods and what was taking place, I knew there was something at work that couldn't be of this earth or reality. This was all beyond our scope of imagining, and our survival (everyone and everything) was probably not the issue at hand. There were forces at work that could not be calculated -- but for some reason I still felt like we could discover something about it all. Like we HAD to, otherwise why would we even be present to witness this.

Then the other part of the dream, short and pointed. A complete shift in tone.

This all took place here in the house. There were news reports of a man who had killed his wife and members of his family. He was at large and considered armed and dangerous. This was all in the background of the dream, not very important, but lending to the feeling of dread that was in the air. I had left my family's company to come down to my room. I was intently focused on my work, specifically at the computer - where I'm sitting now, typing this in real life...if this is real - and feeling frustrated. I was especially annoyed that my mother and sisters never LISTENED to me. That was about to take on literal meaning. I listened to them talking and laughing above me, upstairs.

I turned at the sound of a rustling across the room. JUST LIKE THAT the man who had been in the news reports was now standing in my room here in the basement. He had entered the house without a sound or trace, and he parted the plastic I have draped across the basement seperating my room from the rest. He might have been there for hours, he was so assured. I froze, petrified. He was a rather unassuming looking man, very Woody Allen-ish in appearance, dressed in normal clothes, mostly dark colored. He reached into his jacket, and I knew before I saw it that he had a gun.

I tried to rise and confront the man, and found every movement took impossible effort. I couldn't tell if I was being hindered by the dream itself, or because I was so stricken with fear. My thoughts were that I had to stop him before he went upstairs to kill my family, although I knew he was going to kill me first. Quickly. Silently. Effieciently. But my progress was so torturous I knew I'd never make it, so I tried to scream and warn them.

No sound came out at all. I got somewhat closer to the man, but I knew I wasn't a threat to him. I wanted to keep him distracted from going upstairs, so I continued in vain to yell out a warning. I was at once pissed at my family for being so wrapped up in themselves that they were completely unaware of what was about to happen, and angry at how we were going to die. The fact that this TINY LITTLE WHITE MAN was going to be the death of us just made me blister inwardly with rage. My fear of death was still present, but subsiding in proportion to my anger.

Then I woke up. Now I'm typing this dream into the computer...and looking over my shoulder every few seconds.

A large, diverse group of people were convening at a building that resembled an old fashioned church or courthouse, in the middle of a big open field. Somewhere nearby there was a stream. The sky threatened rain.

A press conference/political debate/trial was about to take place. This all unfolded like a soap opera. There were ambitious politicians and members of the press around, as well as a lot of ordinary citizens. Hanging out mostly at the front of the building was a group of motorcycle riders; apparently they were part of the security staff. I was in there somewhere hanging around, at this point as a child. The focus of attention however was one of the politicians, who had an aura like J.R. Ewing. He smiled and worked the crowd, but he was a snake, and you could feel it. A plainclothes police detective knew it too and wanted to prove he was up to something but couldn't, and he had a female friend who shared his desire. The snake also had a love-interest, and he sat in the crowd as an opponent took the stage and spoke.
Then the storm outside flared up, contributing to an accident that electrocuted the speaking politician. This was very dramatic, almost comic-book-like, and it apparently wasn't fatal. The snake never missed a beat, and continued to smile and talk to the press as some folks in the crowd tended to the speaker. His love-interest also grinnned and helped him try to charm the media, while in the background the detective simmered along with his partner. He was certain that the snake had some involvement in this "accident" taking place too.

I was now an adult, and in the company of John Rudland. John for some reason wanted to go outside, even though the storm was raging. I wasn't very keen on the idea myself, but I followed along behind him. He pushed the front doors open, and stumbled through some motorcycles parked on the porch(!) directly outside. One tipped over and there was a noise as something broke. John anxiously brought it upright, and you could see glass on the ground, but it was hard to see exactly what had been damaged.
The owner of the motorcycle came outside now; it was Tom (Sex-Machine) Savini. He had a presence larger than life, and was apparently a leader of the security bikers. There was something DANGEROUS about him that made John and I nervous. He inspected his bike, which seemed now to have suffered more damage than we'd originally thought, and John offered to pay for anything wrong. In my head I calculated how much I was willing to loan John - which is funny 'cause the figures I was working with actually corresponded to my real-life bank account! - even though I wasn't directly responsible for this.
We moved over to a run-down gazebo-type structure not too far from the main building. The rain was still pouring down.

Then Savini said that there was about $10,000 worth of repairs needed, and my stomach just lurched. There was no WAY John was coming up with that kind of money (although the amount seemed excessive, but we weren't arguing the point!), and the obvious likelihood of Savini hurting him was present. He was very mad now, and John came up with the idea of paying for the bike repairs with credit cards. He was in a remarkably good mood all things considered, and that combined with this dumb idea actually made ME mad. I told him so, and we all headed inside the main building again.
At some point I noticed that I was only wearing one shoe now, and that the other must've still been outside in the dangerous rain. John had realized this before me, and started laughing about it, which just made me angrier. I headed outside to retrieve it, then the sky cleared and the day just brightened completely. People gradually came out of the courthouse/church building, and milled about on the still wet grass.There was no further mention of the press conference, or of the business with Savini and his bike. John had dissappeared somewhere, and I was a child again.

At this point I met up again with two friends of mine from grade school, William and Germal. Both were combinations of people in the dream, especially Germal. We were talking about stuff like what to do, and I still had to find my other shoe when a lanky figure draped in a blanket approached us. Pulling it away from his face, we saw it was John, still an adult, and he was holding something. It was revealed to be my other shoe, plus three pairs of roller skates. They actually belonged to us, and John somehow "found" them. (He was so HAPPY in this dream...!) My skates were white, and just seemed to have an aura about them; they were special for some reason.

The three of us headed over to another porch area that was high above ground yet had no railing. We put on and laced up our skates, preparing to head out. The tone of the dream now shifted from soap-opera to real and menacing to Afterschool Special-like. Germal seemed like our leader now, almost like the Captain Kirk of our trio, whereas I was Spock and William was Bones. Then inexplicably, we were heading down the banks of a stream, without the skates. It was a fairly narrow stream, and William and I were each on the sides, either on foot or in small seperate boats. That part is vague because now we weren't the focal point of the dream. Germal was. He rowed his own boat down the middle of the stream, and sang as he did. The lyrics were just nonsense words and he repeated them over and over, "AHM-A-WEE-BOP, UM-A-WAY-BOP..." still there was something very sweet and innocent in the tone of his voice. He sounded very professional, and the melody was accompanied by music. It was soothing and syrupy...then I woke up.

Anyone who knows me pretty well should be able to figure out what this dream says about me. Wait'll I get to the "message" part...

I have a dream version of Pittsburgh that I usually end up in during the course of most of my adventures. It's a weird amalgamation of the parts that really do exist in the waking world, but they're crossed and spliced and mixed and broadened to the point that they only bear a passing resemblance to the real thing. Nonetheless, it all tends to stay consistant from dream to dream. (Heck, there are even specific comic-book shops I frequent regularly, looking for certain imaginary titles.)

So the other night I found myself back in school.

This wasn't just a typical "Oh no, I'm late for the big test and I'm naked in front of everyone!" situation. The school itself (which I've been in before) was a vast combination of every one I've actually attended over the years. I was walking through the halls, and felt the way I did when I was in each building in real life. This includes the Center School where I taught my cartooning classes as well.

But I was a full-grown adult. And so was everyone else. And I found myself surrounded by adult versions of scores of people I went to school with. Grade school, middle and high school, art school... some were close friends, others I only remembered in passing. Girls I had crushes on, guys I wanted to be popular like...everyone. (Mind you, I haven't encountered most of these people in decades.) And there were lots of folks there from other times in my life, who I never went to school with at all.

I remember being dressed casually, and wearing a leather jacket. I felt kind of cool (as in "kewl"- cool, not temperature-wise!), and was more at ease than I ever was as a kid. Even around the grown-kids who used to intimidate me, or make me nervous. I felt like I knew my place. Still, the building itself was just so vast that at times I got lost, and wandered through classes trying to get my bearings.

It felt ominous. And there was an odd lack of time passing, like there was no specific here-and-now. No morning or afternoon or evening classes, just classes. Still, in-between the bells ringing everyone flooded through the halls like you all remember happening years ago.

I didn't spend much time actually in class in this dream. I do remember rushing to teach one art-related one, even though I was still a student. Then at some point "later" in the day I got a vibe that there was an important class I needed to find. There was a test being given that day, and it seemed to be a pressing issue that I get there to take it.

And I got a little bit nervous about it; I hadn't really studied. I didn't even have any pencils or books with me. The more I stopped to think about it, there was nothing formal about the way I was conducting myself there at all. I was just about to waltz into this classroom - eventually! - and somehow wing my way through this thing that everyone else was taking very seriously.

When I finally found the room, it was actually a big open hall in an area that felt like an art museum. It was on an upper floor of the school that allowed you to peer down below at everyone else. And the students were seated at upright painting easels instead of desks -- I couldn't see the tests, but everything just felt "artistic" in an archaic and formal way.

But these were TESTS they were taking. SAT-type tests.

One of the first students I passed was my friend and former co-worker John Rudland. He smiled and joked in his normal way (those of you who know John can picture this easily, I'm sure!), and mentioned that I'd better hurry up for the test. He was saying it in a kidding-way, but there was some underlying seriousness there. Hey, I'd better hurry up and take it if I wanted a chance to get-ahead and look out for my future.

Here comes the message part.

Without being mean or anything, I stated that I just wasn't worried about this test. I felt everyone was taking it way too seriously, and ultimately it didn't mean anything anyway. I wasn't concerned about it dictating how I ranked compared to anyone else, and felt I should be allowed to take it on my own terms at my own pace... and in my own good time.

The test wasn't important. It was the experience of being in school that mattered. Or at least that's how I felt.

(Yup, I'm just as cocky in my dreams as I am in real life!)

Then as I sauntered to the head of the class to take my test, I woke up.

I'm letting you peek inside of my head for a second. 'Cause I think I can trust you.

I have recurring dreams. And what I've noticed happens on occassion is I'll finally remember upon waking a situation that I've dreamed of a million times over. I'll be in the middle of a dream, doing or experiencing whatever, when it dawns on me that OH YEAH, HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN THIS! And eventually I'll have the dream so strong that it sticks with me even after I awaken.

Such was the case yesterday.

Had anyone asked me prior to this if I'd ever dreamed I could fly I'd have answered, "Not quite". I've had some where I could kind of float, but those were usually scary. I was more or less a balloon, unable to control my direction once airborne. Lemme tell you, THAT SUCKS! Sometimes I'd be in a tunnel, afraid of heading to the exit 'cause I knew that once I was out there, I'd drift off to nowhere.

Other times I'd be floating around indoors, finding myself slowly sinking to the floor. Those were bad, 'cause I also knew the only thing that made me special was that I could float. The second I landed, PHHTT!, I was normal and had to go back to work doing stupid stuff.Stupid, normal stuff.

And that's not mentioning dreams where I've just straight out plummeted to earth. Never hit bottom, but I've heard even the fall can kill you...! And I've had dreams where I'm aboard planes that are about to crash. Nice soothing stuff like that.

But not this time. This time I actually flew.

I was standing between a couple of buildings at one point, and I knew I wanted to reach the top for some reason. Then it just occurred to me, "It would be so much faster if I just FLEW up there..." and I took off my shirt and just kind of PULLED MYSELF UP INTO THE SKY...

...all the while thinking "MY GOD, HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO DO THIS!?!"

I didn't go sailing all over the place; I mostly just hovered and kept pulling myself up. The neat part was, unlike my floating dreams, there was an unbelievable sense of stability present. I was hanging solidly in the air, suspended by my own will power, and I KNEW I wasn't going to fall. I looked down at the ground far below and wasn't dizzy or afraid at all...I knew I was good up there as long as I wanted to be.

I vaguely remember doing this a few times over during the course of the dream. At times I did it in private (like between the buildings, and I did eventually alight on top of one of them), and other times I flew in front of people. I wasn't particularly concerned about the consequences of people knowing I could do this. It just felt like such a natural thing to do, I wasn't worried.

Then I woke up, remembering this for the first time, and thought, "How could I have ever forgotten that I could FLY...!?!"

And now I've shared yet another of my dreams with you.