Good morning, everybody.
I was in some building like a nice community center. I could see down a staircase and into a rather large basement. There was some event, like an art show, being set up down there. I may have come here at this time thinking the event was already in progress.
I walked down into the basement. I feel now that the basement looked like a big conference room in a nice hotel. Most of the booths or tables were still getting set up. But one of the tables seemed mostly set up already.
I walked over there. The artist running the booth was a pretty girl, maybe in her mid-twenties. She was sat back in a chair, probably stretching her legs out on another chair.
The booth mostly displayed works of photography. I looked closely at the photographs. They were in black and white, though some of the black and white my have been painted over (?) in one solid color for each photo. Some pieces had really small photos bordered by huge pieces of solid colored paper. In particular I remember one pink photo surrounded by a dullish pink paper border.
I asked the woman about the photographs. It became apparent the woman thought I was cute (???). I felt like she wanted me to hit on her. But I didn't seem able to work the conversation around to doing it at all.
Somehow the woman and I got talking about the source of these photos. It turned out that a lot, if not all, of these photos had been made by the woman's mother and father. Both the woman's mother and father had died. At first I thought only one of the parents had died. But I eventually come to a somewhat certain understanding that they'd both died.
I knew I was really screwing up, if I was planning to hit on this girl, by bringing up the deaths of her parents. But we seemed to keep talking about it now.
I turned around and looked at some frames on the opposite side of the booth. The frames were all wooden, with solid backs, so they looked like wooden tea trays tipped up onto their sides. Some of them looked very unfinished. Others were finished and had nice, little, ornamental paintings in a kind of folk art style.
I could see that around the corner from where I was was a much larger exhibition area. It actually looked like a big convention hall. It seemed to be above ground, and some high-up windows let in a bright, greyish light. The big area was all set up, and it seemed pretty busy.
I was in some kind of room. A little girl was sat down somewhere, possibly on a single step at the edge of the room. The room was small and square and mostly empty. But on all the walls of the room were pieces of paper, kind of like different colored (mostly girly colored) construction paper, with writing on it.
All of the writings were things explaining some situation in my life to me. It was like a breakup or some other kind of disappointing change in my life. The writings were all there to explain things to me in a way that wouldn't hurt my feelings.
One of the writings came to have something to do with the little girl. It was like the little girl had been my girlfriend. But now she had run off with some other little girl, and the two little girls were lesbian lovers. My little girlfriend's decision to leave me probably had something to do with my making less money nowadays.
But some other people, possibly on behalf of the little girl, were standing behind me, explaining what I'd just read. What I'd read had already been written in a very kind and gentle style. But the people behind me, sensing my disappointment, we re-explaining things to me in a way, they hoped, would make me feel less like my little girlfriend had run off on me.
I may now have felt like I needed to explain the writings to the little girl. I had a feeling, though, that when I told her what I'd read, she'd be very disappointed in me. So I was trying to find a really gentle way of breaking it to her.