Archive for the 'Dream' Category

Catharsis

Posted by Heather B on June 7th, 2006

In my dream last night, my father was actor/comedian Robin Williams. In a teary-eyed burst of emotion, he confessed to me how emotionally distant he had been all my life, and I hugged him close as he bawled into my shoulder.
My thoughts as he cried were: how did I never know Robin Williams was my […]

Dad II, 1998

Posted by Heather B on November 21st, 2005

I was with my father in a large gymnasium where a basketball game was underway. It was late at night, and I was exhausted, and had hoped to find my husband and infant daughter. They were nowhere to be seen and I had grown weary of wandering in the huge arena. Although I wanted to […]

Commando baby-nursing

Posted by Heather B on November 9th, 2005

In a rare turn of events, last night River was able to remember his dream, but I was not. Actually, I think I woke pre-dawn, realized my dream was way more than I could legitimately handle, mentally-speaking, and then prevented myself from going back to sleep.
This was partly because my mind was racing from thoughts […]

Reggae dreams

Posted by Heather B on August 3rd, 2005

Sometime between 3:00 and 5:00 am I was awoken this morning by the bizarre half-sounds of Alpha Blondy’s “Cocody Rock” irregularly wafting into my bedroom from downstairs. I say “half-sounds” because there was a box fan blaring slightly-warmer-than-room-temperature air in my general direction, which had a muffling effect. It’s the same sound that has a […]

Dad I, 1991

Posted by Heather B on July 30th, 2005

My father sat in a yellow inflatable life raft that hovered 300 feet above the open sea. Paddles stuck out and down on either side, like the ends of an oversized, straddling wishbone. He was untroubled. I was with him in the boat, listening to him tell long stories about his childhood and events in […]

Climb II, 1998

Posted by Heather B on June 13th, 2005

Soft light filled a large, open home furnished in white and beige, where the sounds of people milling through the house were softened and drifted away like gentle mist. Two long, beige-carpeted flights of stairs led to open-designed loft areas where tall, puffy, perfectly-made beds awaited. Even though it was day, and I knew that […]

Climb I, 1998

Posted by Heather B on June 6th, 2005

I was climbing a monument, an ancient sacrificial altar made of painted crumbling stone and smooth concrete. The paint was red and black and chipped away under my sweaty palms. I had to reach the top. As I climbed near the top, sweaty and panting, I discovered two huge, oversized bullhorns, situated like giant handlebars, […]

Panic, feminine-style

Posted by Heather B on May 26th, 2005

The last three nights I’ve been having these wacky dreams where undesirable things happen to me that feel slightly out of control. I keep thinking I should record these dreams and then re-thinking and telling myself these are the kinds of dreams I might want to let go. As in, let’s just choose not to […]

Storm IV, 2005

Posted by Heather B on May 20th, 2005

I was visiting a country in central Africa, where there were wide expanses of gorgeous, low-lying plains surrounded by dry, hilly regions. I was there to do scientific research. The city in the hills where I arrived was terraced with cobblestone and yellow soil roads—large, wide steps, really, that led down the hills. Dwellings covered […]

Storm III, 1998

Posted by Heather B on May 13th, 2005

I was with a woman in a modern little home. She was confused, running around the house naked and showing me how she had her navel pierced 20 or 30 times in a dark ring of multiple hoops. I felt sad for her.
I looked out the window, and saw two funnel clouds approaching. They were […]