- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1234
(3 dreams in one night, and a heap of illegible notes on the nightstand in the morning)
I'm trying to get out a big city - ish, driving, but the roads circle and loop about mountains and I'm forever coming back to where I started from. I'm at the top of a mountain, it's night time, or close enough, the sun is setting in the mountains behind me and in front of me are the Great Pyramids. They're huge, like mountains themselves, ruined, were it not for the obviously opened tombs on the tops of them, and the obvious "Pyramidal" shape of them you might not recognize them. They're lit in that orange glow of sunset, pink, almost as if they're on fire. My mountain, the one I'm on, it's cast into shadow and in the shadows there glows the phosphorescence of rattlesnakes, Gila monsters, coyotes, and there are vendors trying to lure you forward with the promise of tacky souvenirs but I know better and go back to the car ...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1494
I've finally found them, knew they were here all along, just not exactly where.
There's a small cave under the highway - somewhere near Banff, it's not so much a cave as a rock overhang, and the rocks that have fallen from the top have piled on the bottom and make a sort of lip, and I'm hiking into it when I notice that the ceiling of the overhang is nothing but trilobites. Giant trilobites, like the impression of horseshoes in the limestone, hundreds of them, some are huge, several feet long, others are smaller. And everywhere, neatly piled, are the trilobites chipped from the rock that tourists took home with them, then felt guilty about taking and returned later. Some have been polished and look quite nice, I'm excited about this discovery, am looking through the countless trilobites when I hear a warden coming...
I crawl back further into the cave and crouch down behind a pile of rocks...There is no law against being here, but my intent is transparent...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1317
I'm living in the outback in Australia, and just down the road there's an old swimming pool, and on top of it there's a giant diving board.
Squatters have moved in and they're having a party and so I take my daughter and we go down to visit. It's fun, the jungle all around, jumping off the board - it's really not so much a diving board as a platform or treehouse high above the pool. These squatters, they seem nice enough.
And I'm swimming with my daughter in the pool, on our backs and I'm beneath her, holding her up to the air because she doesn't swim so good and I'm having difficulty keeping us both alive and so I push her to the edge of the pool where she can hang on, then come up for air myself.
At night, when we're back home, we talk about the squatters. They've fixed up the pool well, and the diving board - well, it's a treehouse now hundreds of feet in the air, but someone wants to develop that area and they're to be evicted.
We're over visiting the next day, they know they're going to be evicted but they're not going. The guy of the treehouse, he's a beard and looks very granola, he shows me a cheque for $38,000 dollars, they're going to destroy the treehouse tomorrow and they want to pay them to leave. He wants to spend the money on a huge party, a grand act of defiance, but I tell him that maybe someone in his family will need it...
It's a beautiful day to be in the treehouse, jumping out from high above the swimming pool, splashing about, climbing back up and doing it again...
The next day they explode the treehouse. Everyone is killed, except the wife (his wife, Granola's), but she's disappeared someplace and no one knows where.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1186
(Woke up at 6:00, thought it was 8:00, the coffee was already on when I discovered my mistake. Drank the coffee, attempted to nap. To little avail.)
I've got the painting - the Christmas gift - the painting I did of the Owner's daughter and I've popped around the restaurant to give it to him. Only I've leaned it badly in the back of the car and now there's a big dent in the canvas.
And I'm pulling it out of the car to look at the dent and I see that there's a tear in the canvas, but the Owner's there and I'll just give it to him anyways.
Now the stretcher bars fall out, and I'm holding the canvas in my hands, rolling it up and he's reaching for it to unroll it, only now it's a sheaf of unrelated sketches and drawings, the painting's disappeared completely and I'm rifling through these sketches, looking for it, but it's vanished, gone, pfft....
(And today is the day I pop around the restaurant to drop off the painting, this means something, but what?...)
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1203
I'm in a tower - medieval, inside the tower there's a queen sized bed, around the bed there's a deep moat and all around both the moat and the bed there's the walls of the tower.
We've stashed all the furniture in the moat, all my possessions, and we're under siege. Missiles are coming in through the top of the tower, landing on the heaps of furniture in the moat, so far, at least, they're missing the bed.
It's George Bush and his son, George Bush, I don't know what I've done to offend them but the missiles still keep falling, still missing the bed. They're mostly squibs, small explosions on the furniture, and they seem to be getting more intermittent, they're running out of ammunition. I'm glad, I don't want all my furniture to be wrecked.