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Music for the heart, mind, and spirit... |
11/11
Helen in the BMW in the front yard. She was wearing gold rimmed glasses and was complaining about the guy that she’s gotten involved with and he’s turned kind of weird on her.
The wonderful touch sensitive interface for creating music. In the girl’s shop who had decided she was going to give up the shop and started suggesting people go down the street to another shop, and now she’s decided to not close after all but her customers are gone. She was giving me some sort of name.
Daily Journal | Comments Off on BMW – Touch Sensitive Music
I’m sitting in an office similar to mine now. I know it’s Monday morning and I hear the gardener and I think they’ve changed their day from Tuesday. I look out the back window and the backyard is not the backyard I expect. There’s a wall where the succulents are but it’s a different color like a light green, and there isn’t really much furniture or plants out there. I’m confused and wondering where I am. There’s a door that goes outside and I go thru it. There’s another house right next to this one with a walkway dividing them so the backyard is shared. Kind of like a duplex. I think I’m not wearing a shirt like I just got out of the shower or something. I go back in thru the back yard and arrive in an enclosed back porch. There’re are a few steps leading up to a kitchen back door. I go thru the door and there’s a woman in the kitchen. I’m unsure as to whether I should walk in because I don’t know what I look like. I feel like I’m in someone else’ body and I’m wondering if that’s the case. I decide to walk into the kitchen and notice a large frying pan with beans in it that are being heated up. The woman looks NA. She has nice brown skin and a full head of long, straight, dark auburn hair. She says hello just like she knows me. I walk thru the kitchen to the dining room when this song starts playing in my head. It’s a piano piece and it’s really catchy, poppy. I started working out how to play it on a piano in my head and the whole scene switched to that.
Bewildered.
I was pretty cognizant of what was going on. Like I’d moved into someone else’ body.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Woman with Beans
I’m in a car with a woman and a couple men. We’re talking about doing a clearing. I wondering if I can get someone that I like and trust to assist me. The woman is dropping me off at a bus stop to take to the location where the clearing is happening. One of the guys is telling me that I’m looking for number 26. The location is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s desert, long paved roads, a large cement over pass. It cloudy and late in the afternoon and visibility isn’t great. Suddenly I’m in a room like library but also living room and cafe like. I’m talking to a man about another man who could be a possibility to assist. The man we’re talking about is very scientific and a little odd. We’re discussing his oddity and whether I can trust him to do a good job. The guy’s in the other room and I think this is the location where the clearing will take place.
Emotion: Not being sure
Day after yuwipi
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Clearing
I’m with a group of people. I have my guitar and I’m playing an intro to a song that’s meant to accompany someone reciting a bit of poetry. I finish the intro and start moving back and forth over a couple chords for the poet to speak on top of. I think the poet is Andrew but I’m not sure. They’re familiar to me and definitely male. They don’t want to start. We and the group try to assure and persuade the man that’s ok, but there’s resistance.
I’m representing a girl who has gotten very sick. She’s the daughter of the president. The president is at a conference and I’ve gotten the number to his hotel room. I call and am talking to him, trying to get him to give the remedy for his daughter’s illness. He’s very practical and although willing to speak to me, not so willing to play. I ask him to take a deep breath and relax and say the first thing that comes to him but he’s resistant. He tells me that the thing that made her sick is the thing that will make her well. -It has something to do with getting pants wet and soaking with them maybe- Sonjue is there and I put her on speaker phone. Maybe it will help to have a woman’s voice. It doesn’t seem to go anywhere.
Emotion: Power feels small to influence another.
Thought: Maybe it’s about needing to do it yourself.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Poem and Appealing to the President
Finally, I’m writing… I’m transporting a prisoner in a large black and white truck. I don’t know who the prisoner is. We stop at some sort of resort. It think I’m in New England somewhere. I’m visiting a family that may be my own. I meet two girls who are 18 and very wealthy and successful at being hairdressers. I think that they must appeal to a younger crowd. It’s a reflection of a younger generation that thinks they know it all. I’m getting ready to leave and I check that the prisoner is still there. I start backing the truck up but it’s so large that I can’t find a good place to turn around. There are many people around the resort and some are trying to help, especially since I seem to drive into a party. I get close to turning around and I know that I’m running out of time before something happens and I’m not able to leave. There’s a guy who’s part of a large family. It may be my family but I’m not sure. Then it happens… Mark Hamill lookalike shows up and starts taunting this other guy. There’s a church next door and “Mark” is the guy’s brother. He lures the guy into the church and I follow. There are others to follow but that fall on the wet pavement in puddles and are shocked by tiny electrical charges in the water. I follow Mark and the guy and a few others into a large music room. They start to play gospel and sing. I’m standing next to a large piano and start tinkering with the keys. I know I want to sing but I’m not familiar with the song.
Emotion: I feel like I’m not qualified to have this big truck and at the same time I am. I have the prisoner and no one questions my authority. I’m excited to play music.
‘Minds me of: I watched the Jake video that Brad sent me. He was young and like a minister online. He spoke in a way that obviously touches people in the way a preacher does. It was interesting and kind of simple pump you up kind of encouragement. Was it a message for me on what I should be doing? I usually that kind of stuff rather vapid. But apparently it worked for Brad. It reminds me of the ineffectiveness of psychotherapy. And maybe Brad has an entity, (the prisoner). Mark needs to use the force, music. Can I do it?
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Transporting Prisoner
I’m in a very old building with 20 foot ceilings. There’s a radio station in it and I’m broadcasting music. The system looks very steampunk with lots of gold and red velvet. Sometimes I don’t know the music. I start walking out with Mike. We go thru the building and something else happens but it’s faded. We get into a car and start driving and end up at a private pond and golfing green. There are people there sitting on benches, bbqing etc. I think I’m naked and wondering if anyone is going to be offended so I try to keep a low profile. Mike sits on a bench and next to some others. I come over and ask him to move over so I can sit as well. I realize that I’m not really naked. This is comforting. A guy who’s there with long dreads asks if Mike can teach him the grass species that are growing around there. He mentions something about a sacred shed and Mike gives me a look and says, “Well he’s got a sacred shed, I gotta help him.” So the three of us walk to a room where we find a large table that’s a giant fish habitat. Mike is explaining about a large fungus that’s growing on the side of a swimming pool. It looks like a jelly fish but it’s a large blob. He says that it’ll grow as long as there’s plenty of water. I said that my friend’s swimming pool had this because the children were always getting water outside the pool from splashing so much. I find this really interesting creature that seems to be related and I place it on the top of the fish table while the other fish are swimming around and start taking pictures with my phone. It seems that there’s a table surface but the fish are also swimming round me.
There’s a sense of concern when I’m naked, that’ll people will be offended. There’s also a sense of being with Mike who’s brilliant and me being special cos I get to hang around him whereas this other guy isn’t as close to him.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Radio Station and Grasses
The BusSeptember 6th, 2018
I’m with an Indian man who looks like the guy from Sense-8. He has a stringed instrument and I have a 4 stringed mandolin type instrument. I don’t really know how to play it but I figure out how to do a major scale on it and we start playing music together. It’s nice and fun. Then I’m with a couple guys who are internet marketers. One of them is teaching a program and I’m having lunch or something with him. I get the feeling that I’m not in the US. He’s talking about selling his programs for $3k. He used to sell them for $2380. According to the other guy that’s with him, $2380 used to be a meme on the internet. I have to leave to get to a dinner or something. I leave with my bag. I recall a storm drain and water. I get on a large yellow public bus to get to my destination. I need to change my clothes which I’m doing and realizing that there’s cat hair on my shirt which I’m trying to brush off. I realize that there’s a woman on the bus who was at the internet marketing preso. She’s talking to the driver about where to get off. I notice that she’s broken the heals on her shoes which are white. It’s the second time I’ve seen her do that and mention it to her. As we’re driving along, I notice that the driver is starting to drive erratically. I’m concerned and start paying more attention to him. Suddenly I realize that he’s passed out and headed for a curve with a lot of traffic and going way too fast. I run to the front of the bus, grab the wheel and navigate thru the traffic tho I can’t reach the breaks and he’s still stepping on the gas. I finally squeeze myself into his seat and am able to pull the bus up to a curb and park it with minimal damage.
There’s fear that I overcome. There are numbers which I’m wondering is for me to sell stuff at. There’s cat hair which I’m worried about allergies. There’s the mando which is creative. The woman with the broken heals can still walk in those shoes.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on The Bus
EstatesSeptember 4th, 2018
Had two dreams with similar things going on.
1) I walk up with Mel to a new estate he’s purchased. It’s at night. It feels a little eery. We’re at the gate which requires a code to get in and Mel asks me if I remember it. I don’t. Then he does and the gate opens. We step inside and it’s dark. There is a main house and another dwelling beside it. Both are dark grey and appear to be made from steel. I walk into the other dwelling and there’s someone there, possibly on a phone talking with someone about something that seems intense. I make my presence known before walking outside further into the property. There is a field beyond where there’s a night crew picking something. There’s also a large pond or lake. I ask Mel if that’s part of the property and he says no. I walk out there and as I do, it becomes lighter out. I noticed that there’s a fountain where people come on a regular basis. It’s like a large park and it is right up against Mel’s property.
2) I’m in a large house where there are a lot of people. Seems to be like a private class of some sort. We’re all doing morning stuff. I walk into the back yard to go to the corner of the property to go and meditate. The property butts up against a large lake. The corner of the property is partly submerged but there’s a pathway just at the water level to walk out to a meditation bench that’s been built there. Someone notices that I’m going and wants to take a picture of me walking on water. I have to take off my socks. I walk along the stepping stones until I get to the bench and I see a rock that has the name “Jethro” on it. I think of Christine.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Estates
SaladAugust 28th, 2018
I’m at a men’s gathering. I’m in a room preparing a very nice salad. I’m thinking about Kirby and that I’ve left him with this other guy and wondering if he’s ok with that. I haven’t seen them in a while. I turn to do something and accidentally fling the salad bowl onto the floor and salad goes everywhere. I ask the guy sitting next to me if he saw how that happened because I didn’t see a thing. He just kind of shrugs. I start picking up the salad from the floor. I’m deciding whether I’m going to eat it in spite of it being picked from the floor because it’s such a beautiful salad. A guy I know comes in and he’s really tall. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and no pants and he has his junk in his hand. He starts talking to me then tells me he’s going to go do something but he’s putting his hands in the air and almost hitting the ceiling fan. I tell him he should be careful. I go into the kitchen to find something to clean up the floor and a fork. There are no forks anywhere. I do find a rag.
Felt frustrated and upset about the salad. Felt insecure about Kirby.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on Salad
I’ve taken on some sort of job working in a shop. The shop is run by some African American guy who also seems to be an importer of “other” goods. There are lots of African imports of clothing, masks, jewelry, etc. There’s another guy working there that I know. We get taken out to have a conversation about what we talk about in the shop. He makes it clear that he doesn’t want any talk about anything that’s too fringe. He doesn’t want customers freaking about. I tell him that I never talk about anything too fringe, but if one were to look me up online, you’d easily find something controversial about me. And when I get my book released, it may push things over the edge about me. He’s not too worried about it. He indicates that we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We go back inside. The phone rings. It’s for me. It’s a client who wants to talk. The timing’s not good for me. I can see him in my mind’s eye. He’s a silver-haired psychiatrist. I know he has patients so I ask if he can call me between 12-1 for a lunch break. He says that’s perfect.
Air of drug importing or something shady going on. The shop is cool. Not sure why I’m working there.
Dream Journal | Comments Off on In the Shop
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