1. Sad mummers in vivid drag, bright wigs (Bob?). Quiet hysteria.

2. It’s late evening, cool and dark. I’m in front of a big grey building/castle with a high fence that looks like it might have been designed by Edward Gorey. It gets higher and thinner, almost splintering at the top. Yellow light shines through the far away windows at the peak. Other than this light, the rest of the dream is in high contrast black and white. There is a box. When opened, fleas start jumping out. The quote: “Dedicated to anyone who shares my blood, and anyone who shares my heart, shares my blood”.

3. It starts epic movie style (passive dream observer), with a man (Tom Hanks), who wears a pale olive army uniform, and is with a boy named Kaleb, who was an “army baby”. They seem to be important mythical archetypes, but I’m not sure why, they don’t do anything particularly dramatic other than just be (but maybe that’s the point). A man is saying it doesn’t make sense because he was more “the army guy” then “his timid self”. There’s a debate about split personalities, newly dominant egos taking over and integration.
^{I think my brain was trying to say all dreaming selves = me.}

The dream shifts and Isak and I walking along a path, everything around us is green and warm, with layers of leaves and their shadows. A large, mutant, pearlike fruit (with two tops and a thick, round base) causes me to question “reality” and I realize I’m dreaming. I pick the pear-thing and we throw it back and forth, then I take out my camera and start taking photos of Isak and his reflection in a small pond. It’s quite mesmerizing – looking through the lens at the image of the image, realizing they all exist only in my sleeping head. I find myself wondering if I can take the photos back with me.

I slip in and out of lucidity and semi-lucidity; wondering if “they” heat this dreamworld, since fruit is growing and it’s winter, or fretting about Isak getting lost somewhere, being left behind when I wake. There are a lot of people (they seem to be other dreamers, also aware of their state) walking around us, and we’re all traveling up a smooth path. Gradually the characters change again, and I’m suddenly reading the back of a video box, realizing the dream is ending as I flip back and forth between passive observer, dream participant, and reader within the dream.

4. I’m at a loud concert (not something I’d go to, hard edged metalheads in spandex, a lot of screaming noise). I’m near the merch table, run by a fellow with sloppy tattoos and a terrible neon yellow mullet wig. I feel guilty about how ridiculous I think he looks, even though I don’t say anything – it makes me feel shallow. The table is covered in all sorts of buttons, shirts, iron ons, cd’s, band photos etc, and when I look closer at the photos, I realize a bunch of them are from the previous dream and wonder how they were developed so quickly and what they’re doing on the table.

^{(I also wrote “I call up 91 mental icons”, but I have no memory of this or what it means. I should transcribe these while they’re fresh in my mind.)}