I had not eaten a vegetable all day. That is very odd for me, as I usually have a salad at lunch and at least a veggie side with dinner. My body was in a little bit of shock about that. So naturally, I had the most adorable dream about carrots. It was just a brief dream. The carrots were organic rainbow baby carrots with the leafy stems still in tact. I remember craving a raw vegetable the first time traveling in Europe, something crunchy, un-edited farm fresh. At the time, that was hard to find. But tonight I decided to roast the carrots with a little olive oil and some spices. A little rosemary, cumin, a dash of turmeric, and what’s in this last little jar? I lightly sprinkle from the jar labeled “dancer”. Dancer Spice! I had a dream about dancer spice. -smile- Just a little dash, a little sprinkle of magic to make my toes point and my spirit soar.
Well, not really….
However, I did unwittingly complete an Ironman triathlon without breaking a sweat….
In my dream that is…
RUNNING – Up a long dirt hill. I was being chased by Nazis and I was headed toward the trees. I was running out of breath, but kept on going.
SWIMMING – The dirt road ended at a cliff edge and I jumped into the water below, swimming, swimming, swimming through cold water to get to the other side. I think I have lost them, but cannot be too sure, so I keep up the pace.
BICYCLING – I scramble through the brush on the bank and get to a dirt road. I see a bicycle with a yellow basket leaning against an old wood barn. I jump on the bike and pedal on ~ and on ~ and on ~ and on ~ and on ~ and on.
I pass a gentleman on a bicycle coming from the opposite direction. He is tall and thin and carrying a chandelier.
The Icicle Thief, 1989 spoof on the 1949 Italian film The Bicycle Thief
The “Truth Is” photo is borrowed from the 2008 American film Ironman poster.
So many funny lines in that movie… here is one that stands out to me, as it came to me in sleep or trying to sleep mode.
“I’m Tony Stark. I build neat stuff, got a girl, occasionally save the world. So why can’t I sleep?”
If you are curious about triathlon distances…
I’m tired, it’s time to wake up.
I love all of Pat Cegan’s Source of Inspiration posts…. because, duh! they are always inspiring. 🙂 I really like when she writes these Alpha Bullet Point Poems. They are just so zen perfect and the Phantastical artwork slideshow is indeed a colorful collision of worlds and beauty. Simply dreamiliscious!
I’ve been watching a ton of New Orleans Jazz Fest on AXS TV this weekend.
Fully expecting for strands of zydeco, funk and blues to slip into my sub-conscious.
So far, the only song that lodged in my brain is Lyle Lovett’s “Here I am”
If you haven’t ever heard that song, definitely take a look at the linked video.
I think this stuck in my head more than any other tune I heard, because L.L.
is such a wordsmith. Check out the full lyrics.
I was not at Jazz Fest in reality or in sleep. It was just an annoying little dream about
not being able to connect. Not being able to say what I mean, in the right way,
materialized as mobile cell service not cooperating well.
Who was I was calling?
“Can you hear me now?”, “Do we have access? “, “Where are you?”,
“Can you hear me now?”,
“Look I understand too little to late
I realize there are things you say and do
You can never take back
But what would be if you didn’t even try?
You have to try
So after a lot of thought
I’d like to reconsider
Please if it’s not to late….
Make it a cheeseburger.”
~ Lyle Lovett
Dreamer’s Note: Photo from Saveur
It’s Friday. A day generally reserved for posting light-hearted, fun, funny, escape from reality posts all over WordPress and the Internet. Friday Light!
Instead, I am posting Friday Dark. A dream, I tried to push out of my head the minute I had it. I got up to use the toilet and have a glass of water, trying to re-arrange my mind waves, so I would not close my eyes to re-dream or continue the awful dream in my head. Do you do this? Will yourself to have a nicer dream? Repeat in my thoughts, words like wildflowers, angels, sea-breeze, fluffy clouds.. summoning all my calming visuals.
But no, it persists. Darkest dream I’ve had in a long time. I find it offensive that it had to enter my brain at all. Too many hours of watching TV before sleep. I had watched a Frontline piece I think, on girls being sold into sex slavery. They were lured, enticed with money, food, jobs. They are lied to and then taken from their own county to Turkey and sold into slavery. It was a powerful piece, I wish I could remember more details about the piece so I could reference it.
And then a week later, not expecting a dark dream, it comes back to haunt me. Noir, stark like a play. An iron bed center of room on marred wooden floor boards, a very dim light, smoke hanging in the air from a cigarette one of the men is smoking. A girl ( a version of myself) lying curled fetal in the bed, having been raped, brutalized, now shivering and hurt. A cold-hearted act, searing with hot raw pain. Un-bearable.
Shivering and cold, afraid and alone, there is no escape.
The men are talking and smoking, I hear a laugh.
And then just one tiny ounce of hope, like the sliver of light through the curtain…
Someone gently lays a blanket over me.
Darkness, sadness, hurt and pain at the surface of my skin. Now, days gone by, I don’t like to think of this dream, or worse, the REALITY of girls and young women, suffering, everywhere, around the world.
Pray for better dreams, pray for a better reality for these girls, make a difference, donate generously to a charity, to help girls and women escape the darkness and make a life for themselves. Find the brightness in Friday, the hope in the every-day.
Sorry I do not know the photographer(s) of these amazing photos. Found on Pinterest.
One of them identified the source as iconology, but I could not find the image there.