Monday, March 12, 2012

flying over lake

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was daytime. I was flying over a lake, as a part of some task. There were two other people around me. They were probably in a small boat. At first they were probably a man and a woman I knew as friends or colleagues. But then they probably became my mother and my sister. An old man, probably a wizard-like man with a long, white beard and a pointy hat, was also somewhere, possibly high overhead in the sky, watching over my progress.

The way I was flying was by holding something over my head. The thing would catch wind, then lift me up into the air. I would often have to drop myself back down to the lake, which I did by closing or dropping or shifting the thing over my head, so that it no longer caught wind. I probably stopped descending when I got to a point where I was just floating above the surface of the water.

The thing I held over my head changed a few times. Once it was something like a parachute. Another time, it may just have been a grocery bag or some garbage. Finally I "found" a device that was supposed to help me a lot. It was like a thin, wooden pole with a square of some kind of metal mesh, like a door's screen, attached to it. It looked like a metallic version of a flag or pennant.

This device could help me control my flight really easily. To move up, all I had to do was flip the flag around one way. To move down, I just flipped the flag the other way. I don't know how I "found" this device: every device I'd used had just appeared in my hands while I was flying over the lake. But I was still proud of having "found" this device, and I looked to the people in the boat for some approval, which they probably gave me.

I now felt like I had to prove myself in some other way. Flying was too easy with this device, and I didn't really know whether I deserved the device. I flew along the lake until I found myself in some kind of basement area inside some apparently large building. The area I was in was tall but narrow. Along the right side was a black, chain-link fence. On the left side was a white-painted, stone wall.

This area was full of boxes and other stuff. But I knew it had been even more packed with stuff just a short while ago. But my sister had cleaned out a lot of the place. Now there was something down here I had to find and confront. It was something like a demon, or at least I was afraid of it because I thought it was a demon. I had to fly up and down and search through all the stuff. But I was afraid of finding something in one of the high boxes. I'd often drop myself quickly back to the floor.

I could hear, or else I was imagining, two people standing on the ground near the back of the room, by the fence. The people were an old man and a young woman. The old man looked like some kind of noble from the Medieval Italian days. He wore a big, dark headdress and a rich, dark robe. He was some kind of magician. I didn't see the young woman very well. But she didn't seem very young sometimes. She was too scheming.

The man and woman were talking about something, probably about making wine. They had commanded a much more innocent, younger woman to help them make the wine. The young woman had apparently helped them in the past. But she was afraid to do so. If she didn't find the right elements for making the wine, the man and the first woman would then make what they called "Diana's wine." This was the blood of the second young woman.

I couldn't figure whether Diana had to find some fruit for making wine, or whether she herself had to go find blood for making wine. I didn't know if there was also some kind of cannibalistic ritual involving the wine, if it were always blood-wine. I didn't know, at first, how Diana could have survived after having given away her blood for wine. Then I realized it was just like a transfusion. Diana didn't give away more blood than she'd give in a transfusion. And she'd regenerate it all.