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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
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I've charged my daughter with looking after 3 pairs of pets, there's a pair of Guinea Pigs, a pair of (?? forget...), and a pair of sparrows, and somehow she's fucked up and one of each pair dead....I'm furious, smack her hard across the face and then discover the surviving sparrow is engaged in a duel to the death with a small mechanical sparrow, a medieval tin automaton that's battling it with a sword, I look to my daughter and her face is swelling and I feel bad about hitting her...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1540
I dreamed that Anna was in Calgary, she'd been living here for about a year. I meant to see her, to get together, but somehow it never happened even though she lived just around the corner and so one day while we were chatting on the phone she tells me that she's moving, Missouri or someplace, and suddenly I'm filled with an urgency to see her, get together, rushing to rearrange my schedule to fit her in...
(note: this is a curious inversion of the "lost in London-not-London" dreams I frequently have, wherein I'm searching for Anna in a London that's not as I remember...)
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1388
I've stolen a Da Vinci. The details elude me, a private collector, a variation of the Madonna on the Rocks in a polychrome frame that would look more appropriate on a Picasso, but this isn't a typical Da Vinci, it's brightly coloured as well, and I've hung it above the bed next to a painting by my friend Milan.
I'm living in my Parent's basement. I've no worries that they'll recognize it, hiding, as it were, in plain sight, but Milan, my friend, in signing the painting he gave me somehow made a mistake and signed across the front of the Da Vinci, and now there's no way for me to return it even if I wanted to.
Milan drops by to visit. He's horrified that I have this, the stolen painting, and then my Mother enters bringing me a half litre of wine. For breakfast. I would have preferred coffee, but her visit is just a pretext to ask me about some obscure plot point in a book I'd written about Hellboy. "All will be revealed" I tell her. Milan has taken the precaution of hiding the Madonna beneath his own painting, a ridiculous, terrified grin upon his face...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1379
(dream had a few days ago, odd, disturbing after it's fashion, still recall the details days later so writing it down...)
I've a craving for chocolate. A 3/4 eaten bearspaw on a plate, Carmel leaking from it's undevoured quarter, I'm heading out looking for some fudge...
There's a mall with a chocolate shop in it down the street, I walk towards it (in the dream this is somewhere west of 17th Avenue/14 St in Calgary....), I find the mall, find the chocolate...
A diner. 50's, large, inside, looking for someone I know, a waitress recognizes me, says hi, some small favour I've done for her, trinket or some such, she's friendly, I can't remember her, she remembers me. At the bar, a big rocket, 50's all round, vintage period junk upon the walls, I don't know who I'm waiting for, why precisely I'm here, only I've been here before, waiting...
...
IN a minivan with my father, he's driving, backing out of a parking lot. I'm in the second row of seats, perhaps 7 seats across, a jumbo-jet of minivans of sorts, the van is full, we're leaving the diner, beside me is an East Indian man, covered with open sores (leprosy?), he's seated upon a towel, upon the seat in front, anything he touches or breathes upon is covered in these green-red mucous balls, they're from his sores....
...beside us in the parking lot someone has cut us off, minor bump, their fault, my father ignores it, we've someplace to go, but a pugilist - shaven head, crooked nose guy is cycling after us, telling us he'll sue, other people are getting out of their cars and telling him he's crazy, it wasn't our fault, they knock him from his bike....
I get out and go up to him, he's seated where he was knocked from his bike, I'm pissed off. I kick him with my boots (soft rubber toe) - right in his crooked nose, he doesn't fall back or pass out or bleed, just looks confused...I am as well, I expected more than this...
...back into the van, beside the East Indian with the mucous balls all over the seat in front of him, his bleeding open sores, the seat he's seated upon, green and red, and we're off...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1636
I've a black baby in a shopping bag, the latest addition to the family.
Trying to board a train, I've a black baby in a canvas shopping bag, trying to catch a train, I meet K (boy's mother) on the way...
She's unexpectedly curious, looks into the bag, the writhing black baby, it's mine, I know, that's not the issue, there's somewhere I have to go, she somehow manages to catch the train, I'm expecting her to hold it for us but she doesn't and I'm running after it...
Don't know why but I thought she'd wait for us, the train is leaving and I'm running after it, she'll get it to stop...
...but the train is still leaving and I'm running after it, hoping to board it at the next station...
maybe London-not-London, not sure, only that I'm running after a train with a black baby, my baby, in a canvas recycling shopping bag...
**Note: Probably related to article read online about a woman stopped in the Caribbean with a baby in her purse - black? Caribbean? Not sure. Missed train a common theme. K, not a common person to be included in my dreams. Another dream that night, complete as well, but I've forgotten...