Posted by: normanlgreen | July 30, 2011

Dream July 30, 2011


Dream, home, 9:45 am

I arrive at a state park near but not on the sea. In the late afternoon light I find a building of dark brown brick where a woman ranger leads me to the cold storage building. Like all the others in the complex, this one is of brick – though they seem to have been built in stages as their designs are not quite conforming. I am given a little instruction on a chore and left to sort things out. Some of the doors are frosty – I can feel the cold air creep toward me. There are other large rooms that are not separated by doors, so they vary in temperature. The notion is that fishermen can store their catch – this is for both commercial operations and for sport fishers. All of the rooms are empty so I am uncertain what I am supposed to clean up, so I leave and cross the street to get more instructions – the sky grew darker while I was indoors, and there are no people about. I walk up the steps to a little clapboard house that has been re-purposed for offices. Inside it is bright with a lot of yellows and crowded with counters and walls that have been added to subdivide it into offices. This office is not attached to the park but to a private university. I find my friend the conductor Deb. She rides a wheel chair with some difficulty through the crowded space, but is happy to see me and to help me. We get her navigated around counters and umbrella stands and get her coat from a closet so she can take me a cross the street to the college theatre department where they will find a place for me to live. There is a big production in preparation and every one in the theatre moves with excitement and purpose. Deb gets something arrange for me and we leave the building – it is now mid-day again. To the West of us, there is a commercial space that is having a grand opening. This building is a combination of partially subdivided shop spaces and a central court that opens up to three floors. In the court there are long elegantly equipped tables with white cloths. There are completely divided shops on the south exterior and within other spaces that function as a permanent market for various vendors. Reds and yellows predominate amongst the hats and woven goods and glass art that are for sale. The mastermind developer for the building is a Japanese man who announces that the opening ceremony will commence. Above the courtyard, tapestries spin out of the ceiling in geometric patterns. They glide down on the air to rest on nets that hang above all. Light strikes the patterned cloths from above and they become translucent. Dishes fall from the ceiling and land in place on these suspended hammocks. Red glass bowls fall into place between them. Most of them settle exactly spaced, but one I see is too heavy for the cloth and bows it down slightly more than in other places in the pattern, two dishes slide towards it, creating a slight flaw in the otherwise perfect pattern. The audience gasps at the overall display. The mastermind gentleman approaches individual tables and courteously inquires after his seated guests.

Earworm: clover rag – though I did start with an instrumental piece that I have not heard before.

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Responses

  1. Yes — an authenic voice — in dream. We have heard enough from the boneyard of spun words dead words. Good to hear a true voice. I’m a fan, Mr. Green.


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