|"The Madhouse" by Francisco Goya|
I am happy to say, one of the initial benefits I am finding from this creative exercise is my visualization skills are getting better everyday. In the not so recent past, I tended to draw a blank when intentionally trying to recall images on the screen of my mind. That is thankfully changing, almost like a fog being lifted. For now I am just allowing myself to recall my dreams. In time I want to go further into dream interpretation. I know there are a lot of dream dictionaries out there, but I am looking at figuring out what the dream symbolism means to me instead of going by a generalized definition. Not sure yet how to get to that point. Perhaps starting with a dream dictionary and then slowly overtime developing my own personalized version. Not sure if that is even possible, but the more involved I get into understanding this side of myself, the more useful this process will be.
Last night, I got a few snippets but they are lingering with me all day. First, I remember being in a large college dorm common area. I was leaving the area when I ran into an average looking Caucasian woman, slightly plumb, but seeming like a very friendly stay at home mom. She had shoulder length red hair and a rosy cheeked face. I know I do not know this woman in real life but I said to her, "You have the sweetest kids I have ever met." She smiled and thanked me. Out of nowhere four young blonde haired kids came running out of an adjoining room as if coming out of class. I waved at the family and left.
When I was outside, I noticed my clothing had changed. I was wearing an over-sized white t-shirt that felt like a straight jacket. I looked down and had no pants, shoes or socks on. I wiggled my toes and started searching for my wallet with no luck. I felt as if I was in an insane asylum. When I looked up I was standing in an courtyard of a large campus with glass structures all around. The area was crowded, all of us wearing large white t-shirts. Guards were stationed on pillars, I think. They randomly asked folks for identification. We each raised our right hands and a personal id, looking like a driver's license, appeared as if it was always in our hand. They disappeared once we put our hand down. I felt like I was living out a version of "1984".
I eventually found myself on a street corner where "Scott", a classmate from my acting group, was dressed in regular clothing. He was standing just off the sidewalk by the trunk of a car. The weather was overcast with the smell of ran in the air. "Scott" asked me if I was joining the group to take "Carol" out to dinner for her birthday. I looked over his shoulder and saw "Carol" standing by herself. She was clearly waiting for us even though she didn't see us at all. I am not sure what my answer was to this question.
The interesting thing is that in real life, "Carol" is a friend, actress and classmate from my time at the American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco. She is planning on auditioning soon to possibly join my current acting group here in Los Angeles.
One thing, however, has me scratching my head. When I woke up, "Scott" called my cell phone to ask me the date of the auditions. I told him the date. I wondered why he was asking me this since we already mentioned the date to the group just the night before. I had also sent him an updated class schedule in early April with the new dates. He said he was looking at an old schedule and needed me to clear it up before he contacted the potential candidates about the audition..
It is also a little "trippy" to talk first thing in the morning with someone you were just talking to in a dream.
I look forward to whatever new journey I have in store for me tonight.