Hopefully I shall go back to work on friday - if I leave it till Monday they count the weekend even though I don't work it and I'd have to provide a doctors certificate.
Spent the early part of the night tidying the kitchen...and then baked a big white loaf of bread and made a spicy tomato and bean pasta dish to go with nut roast potatoes and spinach...went to bed during the thunderstorm feeling stuffy, temperature-y and awful.
Between 3 and 8am I dreamt this sequence during the second/third? heavy thunderstorm we had last night.
To a 'soundtrack' of white noise, random bass guitar bashing/pulsing and heavy rain with occasional thunder rolls.
I am on a system of escalators that circle up and down randomly inside a school which is also a shopping centre full of schoolkids going home. There is a girl being bullied - long dark brown hair in plaits - I single out the girl who is doing the bullying and push her with my book (which I am carrying, dustjacket flapping half off - a hardback copy I have of Mary Stewart's The Last Enchantment) away from the bullied girl and follow her up the escalator whilst whispering:
'How old are you?'
'I am 30 - don't take 17 years to get where I am today'.
Leaving the escalator system and stepping onto a busy city street, with camden tube entrance opposite and bus stop to the right I see a man.
I walk up to the man, who is dressed rather punkily in a tattered leather jacket, a couple of missing teeth(?), dark spiky hair, but nothing identifiable. Push him up against the wall and we kiss passionately whilst I whisper:
'I don't want 24/7 togetherness and smothering intensity. I want to agree and acknowledge space and independance from you but have passion when we meet. I don't care how long it goes on for like this, but I will always love you and I want to know I am loved even though we can be free.'
I leave the man, who walks off to the bus stop and stands there. I cross the road to the tube station and turn a corner to walk up a hill. I am suddenly with a group of three-five other people.
Schoolkids pass us as we round the corner.
We are walking up a hill, which has a peculiar gravitational effect on those walking up it like it doesn't want you to reach the top...so that it is extremely hard work and you have to lean forward and force yourself ahead. People are really suffering on the way up it - five people ahead of me suddenly fall over backwards at the same time, then get up and continue.
It is a suburban hill with terraced houses on either side and parked cars. I am having no trouble getting up this hill - it looks like Berrow pk rd where I lived as a child and is just as steep. I am walking past cars, running past people...stopping to observe an orangey bicycle being ridden down the hill but with noone riding it... I go past two children (boys) banging on a bass guitar in the street, crouching on the floor.
(soundwise: this loudly connects briefly as I pass them with the 'soundtrack' and then fades back to normal level again)
I reach a pub at the top of the hill and go in. Sit and have a pint. Camera lifts out of myself, through the doorway of the pub and into the street.
It is dark and there is a woman in the street, stood in front of a statue made of dark red jelly of a woman (who is a representation of herself) in the act of sex on top of a man made of black stone. She is sawing the woman in half over the stone man whilst saying this (which is also shown partially written/printed on paper):
'And she cut herself in half as if he were a thorn...
(something about him dying)
And the river (the road) cumming to sea as it runs.'
The jelly woman falls apart in perfect halves over the stone (prone) body of the man - and blood pours thickly out - which leaves two red stains on either side of his black stone chest - like a folded ink blot painting in red. He sits up and begins to paint the dead womans toenails and fingernails in her blood whilst reciting something about Orpheus (which I can't remember), and the road/river descending to the sea.
Camera/eyes begin to move down the road, where you have to lean back to prevent falling forward - in reverse of attempt to climb. The road leads to the sea, which rushes as I wake.
I just looked up the Orpheus thing from my dream out of curiosity (Google : orpheus river sea) and found this!!:
After losing Eurydice, Orpheus lapsed into terrible grief. Some stories say that he changed his sexual preferences, turning to boys. For whatever reason, his lack of interest in the Thracian women, all of whom wanted him, made them so angry that they tore him to pieces and threw him and his lyre into the river. The head floated away, still singing.
At the end of its long journey down the river, Orpheus's head drifted out to sea and finally landed on the shores of the Greek island of Lesbos.
I did a production of Orpheus when I was 15 with the Devon Youth Theatre summer school... I was the drummer and had to bang a large drum as a heartbeat all the way through...and was also part of Cerberus. It was an odd production, which was all performed in silence apart from the drum - physical type theatre and metal scaffolds to hang through/on...we wore white paper boiler suits with green gaffer tape strapped about us, and green lines under our eyes...this went red and black under 'underworld' lighting. We never did the 'death of Orpheus' bit, and stopped on the exit from the underworld/losing Eurydice scene. I didn't recall until now how he died - and most certainly don't remember the 'river to the sea' bit...HELP!!!
Eep!! This is what I get when I'm hot, dying and suffocating in the early hours lol!