Posted by: normanlgreen | January 24, 2013

Dream, January 24, 2013 Chew Your Food


Dream, home, 4:52am

A music festival is coupled with teaching sessions on simplified living. Inside a disused warehouse, a band blares from a central stage. The sound mix is muddy, heavy on a synthesized bass, but the crowd enjoys the show. Most of the light comes from the stage, but on the floor to the left and center of the band, yellow lamps shine on a cooking demonstration. People receive instructions and participate in the preparation of a communal meal. A bakery has donated some out-of-date bread. The audience is instructed to chew up the bread then to spit it into deep pans so that it can be baked into dressing. I watch a woman and a man carefully chew millet bread and let the ground mixture fall into the pans. I decide not to partake of the meal.

Outside, trucks and cars and caravans parked in rows. Some of them are being unloaded, while others are filled. I turn toward an open area across the dirt road. The sky has entered twilight and silhouetted to the West stands the backstop for a little league baseball diamond. A young man explains to me that the city government has closed down access to the ball field. I see locked gates and chain-link fences surround it. To further limit access, a plexi-glass shell has been assembled – a transparent box only slightly larger than the backstop itself. Young people fiddle with the gates to see if the locks will give way.

The young man leads me to a secret entrance to an artificial cavern beneath the ball field. Below, a single light bulb hangs from its power line. The floor of the cave is divided by parallel concrete walls – eight feet apart, five feet high. The four or five segments that I can see in the limited light are filled with drainage water. My oldest son waves to us from his perch on one of the walls, prepares to dive into the water. As with the bread dressing, I suspect that I will not participate in the underground bathing ritual.

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Responses

  1. “I decide not to partake of the meal.”

    I laughed out loud at that one. Your flashes of dry humor always get me.

    Last night, after terrible insomnia the previous night, I dreamed what I understood to be a metaphor for the wonderful quality of sleep I was experiencing. I floated slowly down into a mist-filled chamber, eventually reaching the bottom, where my feet sank into some type of sediment like sand. It was so peaceful and when I woke up this morning I was more refreshed than I have felt in a long time. It was almost but not quite worth the insomnia to experience this.

    • I love it: dreams talking to you about their own medium.


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