Dreamways

Sleep Dream. I am at the Mental Health Center. It’s the office here I worked, but in the dream it is a different building, friendlier looking. It seems to be located in Colorado Springs, the town of my childhood. I have arrived for a reunion of the drug and alcohol team that I was part of. The festivities are taking place in a large, plain, group room. I feel curious and a bit cautious about being around these folks, who in waking life I've not seen for years.

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Sleep Dream.  I’m in a public space that looks and feels a lot like The Market. But in the middle of the space, rather than a deli counter, there is an old fashioned bar/ counter of dark wood. It is barroom lighting, shadowy. I go up to the bar to sit down. I notice a woman sitting there already. It’s actually a counter that butts up against a wall. It is 4 seats long. The woman is in the chair/bar stool farthest to the right. She has a mop of wildly curly, dark blond hair. She cuts a svelte figure in a tight, long-sleeved shirt and tight, long pants. A Seventies feel to her look.  read more »

Sleep Dream.  I’m at 722 E. 7th Ave. It’s not Mavis Lee S’s house at this point. Ernestine lives in some sort of apartment there. I am meeting her for some sort of project, having to do with writing, I believe. It is early of a morning. The sky is blue, the shadows are velvety black. The air is crystalline, redolent of freshness and optimism. I see Ernestine go into the coffee shop across the street. (The News Stand moved one block south, as it were.) I decide to go across and meet her there. There is a line of customers.

Ernestine is her diffident, distanced self.

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Sleep Dream. I meet a young fellow downtown. At H&H?  His name is Chris Jaunarājs. He is in his mid twenties. Physically the gestalt of Uldis, but his face is longer, less square, his straight hair brownish blond. He speaks no Latvian. He is new in town, from Rhode Island. He is gay. Very friendly, outgoing. We discuss our common surname. I tell him that it is totally amazing that a third strand of Jaunarājs is in Denver.

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Sleep Dream.   I am at the Cedar St. house of Grāvele. It is sunny, spring. I’m in the kitchen (which waking Vitauts doesn’t at all remember) by myself. The space feels odd, but not at all threatening, a bit sterile, like no one really lives there, like a motel. There is going to be some sort of Latvian gathering there. In though the back door arrive half a dozen or so people. A tall and hefty fellow comes right up to me, smiling tentatively, as if he knows me. I’m not certain who he is, but feel OK with it. He holds out his right hand.  read more »

Sleep Dreams.  I’m at some sort of eatery / bar, a chain type of public place in a Lakewood-type area, west of Denver. I’m with Sally Smith. It’s been like an FAC, everyone else has left. It’s night. I say that I’m going to walk home to Denver. Sally, surprisingly, says she’ll join me in the walk. I realize I’m barefoot, but figure that I can make the walk nonetheless, since a lot of it will be through mud. When I mention mud, I figure Sally will back out.  read more »

Friday night F and I went to a show at Plus Gallery. First I talked with San Juan‘s Vincent C. Turns out he co-owns some clothing stores - que sorpesa! He’s some level of buds with Igor. (It stuck me later that part of Lannie R’s and Gabi C’s hostility toward San Juan has to do with issues of class, that Vincent and Craig do move around in different circles. I can hear the ladies; „Who do they think they ARE?!?)

Then, a totally unexpected meeting: Indra J. came up to me. „Vitaut!

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Sleep Dream.  There is a late night party I’m at, in a 1950’s style ranch / tract home. People all over the living room in various states of being passed out and asleep. I, too, am lying on the floor, trying to sleep. At one point I am awakened by movement. Is see that Kammie G., has come into the house and room, focused on getting to the kitchen. In front of her is her daughter, a large 16-or-so year old, of the Vaira T. physical gestalt: tall and very hefty. A maroon, velvet jacket on. Straight blond hair that comes to the top of her neck. A Baby Jane face, overly made up.

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Jury duty yesterday. I was at the City & County Building from 08:30 to 18:30!  There were 50 of us who got called right off the bat to be examined and culled, for a jury of 12 + 1 needed for a murder trial. (An African-American man, in his late 30’s or early 40’s, I’d say, is to be tried for the murder of his wife and attempted murder and assault on another woman.) All criminal trials, it turns out, are “The State vs” trials, with the burden on the prosecuting attorneys, to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt the guilt of the charged person.

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Sleep Dream.  Some sort of cavernous public space, like a Budapest bath house. White and filled with light. Sort of Disney-esque. Child-like. A Fun environment. I am in a pool of some sort, from which protrude periodic white pillars that support the ceiling. (Hm, maybe they don’t support the ceiling; maybe they’re just „art.“) The water is turquoise. There are amber / rust colored plastic pillows floating about in the water. I hold onto one to manoeuvre around. I don’t know anyone. There are a few folks in the water; white, middle-class men and women of roughly my age.  read more »