Tiny Threads

Many Thanks

Special thanks to all the dream contributors:

Edith Abeyta, Carol Ann, Slater Barron, Cheryl Bennett, Dara Brady, Jack Chipman, Margie Darrow, Darlene DeAngelo, Marta Deffenbaugh, Don Dolan, Gabrielle Dorr, Tom Dowling, Trisha Drew, Richard Hall, Paula Isenberg, Lili Khanmalek, Stephanie Klein, Carolyn Liesy, Jason Lipeles, Drew Lohrer, Jane Lohrer, Rick Lohrer, Ruth Lohrer, Steve Marr, Lynne Mori, Gretchen Potts, Sue Ann Robinson, Joanna Roche, Don Schallau, Jean Shriver, Elena Mary Siff, Morag Stokes, Karen Frimkess Wolff, JEN ZEN (aka Jen Grey), and several anonymous dreamers...

 

and to Stephanie Klein for editing and sequencing of the stories.

Anonymous - Walking Together

We recently returned from a visit to Kennebunkport, Maine, so I suppose that is why my dream two nights ago (October 20) at home in Southern California was set in the New England countryside.  The actors in the dream were a young man and a young woman, walking together through a beautiful fall landscape and climbing a hill in an attempt to reach a sprawling wooden inn replete with gables and mystery.  They were engaged in a quest, frustrating but not frightening, and taking place entirely in daylight.  My dream had no resolution.  The inn they sought was entirely visible throughout yet unreachable.  And the dream repeated itself even after I awoke briefly and returned to sleep.  I'd like to revisit that place to see what happens!!

Anonymous

Betsy Lohrer Hall - Very Tan Skin

I look in the mirror and I am amazed to discover that while I have a section of long hair immediately bordering my forehead, around my face, I have a large bald spot on most of the top of my head. Not only that, the skin up there is very tan and somewhat wrinkled at the edges. It becomes clear to me - suddenly - that I’ve been living with female pattern baldness for what must be quite some time without even realizing it.

blh

October 28, 2010

Carol Ann - Fuselage

I had a nightmare last night that I was standing at a second story window watching a plane come apart on take-off, and while I was steeling myself to go outside and help the survivors, a huge chunk of the fuselage came spinning towards the building I was in.

Carol Ann

Jason L - The Walking Painting

So, there was this very strange portion of my dream where I was leaning on a large fence with some friends at a baseball diamond. It was one of those very tall fences and our weight made the fence sag behind us. We were watching high school baseball try-outs. Of course, my old high school track coach was there and I said hi to him. Different people were throwing the ball around and then this one guy came out and the track coach thought that he might actually be pretty good. He had legs but his whole upper body and head were confined to a huge oil painting in a gilded frame. He could move his hands and his face popped out of the painting, but he looked like a walking painting. I never thought of him as a painting though- he was a child who happened to be stuck in a painting. I thought perhaps that his parents were very conservative and this was some sort of religious ritual. Apparently, he was a pretty good pitcher. When one of the coaches came up to tell him what he was doing wrong he started to cry and the coach said that he made the team as a pitcher. I remember thinking that he would have made a good catcher because he would easily block wild pitches with that large upper "body." The painting was at first of a very traditional sort of Rembrandt portrait. Then, later by the end of this segment, I remember thinking it was strange that he was on the body of some sort of distraught maid.

Also, in the dream I was in an art studio and then walking around with my siblings looking at different houses. At first we were going to toilet paper them and then we just decided to look at them. I wanted to write a letter to the people and slip it under there doors. But, my sister-in-law was slightly opposed.

Jason L

New year’s eve, 2011

Betsy Lohrer Hall - Singing Several Notes at Once

I dreamt that my friend Sky could sing several notes at once – as if all the facets of her inner life each had a beautiful female singing voice and they were singing together in perfect harmony… many voices emerging from her one mouth.

blh