The first dream I remember is that I had been traveling--in outer space, maybe?--and for some reason, I needed to inhale freon to keep breathing upon me return to earth. I know that I could gradually be weaned off it, but until I could get back to normal, I had to keep inhaling this freon in decreasingly small amounts. I was staying in a lovely hotel while I readjusted to normal breathing. But I was quite panicky when I needed to breathe more freon and I wasn't near any. My brother was in this dream, but I don't recall why. Did he go with me? Was he waiting for me to return? Don't know. My mother was also somehow involved in this dream, in a perifiral way. I DO know that I awoke around 2:30 a.m. and I was breathing rapidly, and worried about catching my breath and breathing normally.
The second dream I remember more clearly, and told me more about myself, I think. I was coming back to my previous employer, Harcourt, and I was charged with setting up an exhibition of creative works by young people. There were works by 3 young painters and by one young multimedia artist. The young artists were still working on their pieces while I gathered and printed the rubrics by which the pieces would be evaluated. The painting rubric was complete, and I was sent to check on the progress of the young painters. For some reason, I picked up a fine-point brush at each painter's easel, and I painted in darker eyes on each portrait! I actually altered each artist's work! Giles Ben Simon, a photographer, was going to judge the paintings and saw what I had done. He gave me "a look," and realizing what a horrible thing I had done, I went back to each young artist and attempted to wipe off the paint that I had placed their artwork. I also apologized profusely and told them that, although what I had done was totally unforgivable, I begged for their forgiveness, but told them that NO ONE has the right to tamper with or alter the creative work of another.
The young girl who was producing the mixed-media piece was not quite finished. In my dream, she was the 11-year-old daughter of Barabara B., who in reality has no daughters, only grown sons. There was no rubric for mixed-media pieces, but an expert was flying in from Buffalo, NY, to revise the draft rubric we had. While he worked on it, I was taking materials to the exhibition room, which was reached by passing through an elementary school that was attached to our building.
I was not very organized about the materials for this exhibition. I was attempting to carry an arm-load of skincare products to the room, and they kept falling out of my arms. I kept trying to pick them up, but they kept tumbling. Why they belonged in the room, I have no idea. The dream ended when my alarm woke me, so there was no conclusion.
When I awoke, I was truly horrified by what I had done to the paintings of the young artists, since I truly believe that NO ONE should censor one's creative works. Absolutely NO ONE! Censorship of any form runs contrary to everything I believe. What one's creative mind produces NEEDS to be released for some reason that we may not understand. I was really upset by my actions in this dream. I really need to think about what this dream means. Am I afraid that my book will be judged and criticized? Probably. But ALL books are reviewed by others, and anyone who reads a book has an opinion about the book. That doesn't change the book, only the reputation of the book and its author. Is that what I am afraid of? Funny, but my word in "French in Everyday Life" today is "la fousse," meaning "fear." "I am afraid" would be "J'ai la fousse." Perhaps that's a reason that I haven't written in a week or more. No excuses, Fatima. WRITE!!!
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