(This is a quick record of last night’s dream. I didn’t do much grammar editing. I just wanted to get it written so I could paint it later today.)
My sister and I sat in the high school cafeteria listening to a small group of kids do free style rap. The boy I had a crush on began rapping and I looked up at my sister with a huge grin and told her how much I liked the boy. The young man then started to come over to where my sister and I were. I said in typical teenage fashion, “Oh my gawd he’s coming over here. He’s totally coming over here.” As he did my sister got up and moved to a different table with a few students we didn’t know. The young man got real close and rapped. I was shy and kept painting my picture but then looked up at him briefly only to chicken out and look back down. He then turned a paint bottle over on my picture and walked away angrily.
The place became silent. I asked him why he did it and he said it was because I didn’t even pay attention to him while he rapped to me. I just ignored him. He then walked back over to the small group of boys he was with who goaded him to go over and beat me up. As the teens encouraged a fight I made brief eye contact and told him while he was rapping I made a slight attempt to flirt but it just didn’t happen. And that before he made it over to my table I told my sister how excited I was that he noticed me. I nodded over at my sister so she could verify my story but she was no help at all, as usual. She just sat there like a bump on a log, as usual.
When I looked back at the young rapper he was no longer a boy but a girl in tears who felt badly she’d misinterpreted my cues. The crowd still chanted fight, fight, fight! She was torn between following the crowd and giving me the benefit of the doubt. As she stood by the lunch table I sat and sketched, painted a little then went back to sketching, unsure of what would happen next. She dumped a bottle of water color on my white clothes I had at the table. The crowd cheered. I refused to retaliate. I began looking for a piece of paper for her to paint on but couldn’t find one. I told her we could just sit down and draw and talk about it and forget everyone around us.
As I looked for a piece of paper for her an older girlfriend of hers came up and told her she needed to beat me to a pulp. The girl didn’t move nor did I. The older girl then picked up a tube of red oil paint and began smearing it on a different white cloth then threatened to smear it on her friend’s sweater if she didn’t get up and fight me. I spoke up and told her to stop. She asked why I was willing to cut her slack when she’d tossed watercolor on a different cloth. I told her the difference is that watercolor comes out easier than oil. Water color isn’t as permanent at oil, it’s rather temporary on cloth. I said, oil is harder to forgive. It takes longer to work through and as you do you get angrier and angrier. Oil is harder to forgive than watercolor. Still she smeared a large line across her friend’s white sweater!!!
The girl was ready to fight me then. Just as she was a young man yelled to us both from across the cafeteria and said, “Hey, tell me one thing you both want and I’ll give it to you.” He said it in a god-like tone not a Jeanie in a bottle type. The girl and I turned around to see who it was that spoke with such authority and expected blind obedience. He repeated, “Tell me what you want and you can have it.” We didn’t answer. He then told us we could go anywhere we wanted if we’d just tell him where we wanted to go. Both of us said at the same time, “Somewhere far away and quiet.” Surprised we looked at each other where I finished, “The city should be close but not so close we can hear it.” Surprised we’d want the same thing she turned to me and gave a few more details about what this place should be. I handed her a paint brush and told her to draw this place she and I would visit together. We began talking about how we’d been to New York but didn’t like it and that we preferred smaller areas with a lot of green and nature. As we spoke the authoritative young man told us we could go to our chosen destination. He asked if there was anything we wanted before we went. I told him I wanted peace of mind. The place fell silent as did he. I knew then he was bogus, we weren’t getting our wish in reality, only in watercolor paints on used white cloths.
fma
DREAM: Watercolor Paradise – Tuesday, November 24, 2009 – 10:40AM EST
Wow, this is a powerful dream. I often have dreams where there are a lot of teenagers in them. I identify them later as aspects of myself. And I try to look at what’s happening as some message from them to me. I look forward to the watercolor!