Dream: April 30, 2008 (From the archives)

I was a young woman, approximately the same age I am now, perhaps a little older. I was still a student living in the city. My brother lived in another city. In that city there lived a man with whom I was in love. The young man was in love with me, too, but our love lay dormant because of the distance separating us. My brother knew of my beloved, but did not know him. My beloved was a religious man and was, like I, committed to a religious education. He covered his head and appeared to be devoutly Jewish. Secretly I was collecting tokens which reminded me of my beloved. In my room I had collected a small mass of blue, red, and gold items that appeared to be various takes on the Superman insignia.


Quite suddenly an imminent danger appeared on the horizon and was descending upon the cities quite fast. I had no choice but to make haste to my beloved to warn him. We had no time to savor the sweetness of being reunited because of the danger which followed after me. I plucked the outward signs of faith from his appearance and we fled. First we fled through the dark streets, seemingly deserted of all friendly faces, danger lurking. I was guiding him to safety though I didn't know exactly where we would find it. We had no defense except for the swiftness to outrun our enemies. We escaped to a train where we hid from and narrowly escaped our enemies, who would have shot us on sight. From the train we escaped to a house. We ran from the front of the house through towards the back, and as we reached the rear of the house, we could find no way out. Our enemies had just entered through the front and would find us soon if we did not discover an exit. With moments to spare, there appeared the woman who lived in the house. She was large, vibrant, warm, and her skin was honey and olive. She showed us a door on the other side of a mirror, and we escaped through it to the back yard.


Once we crossed the threshhold into the yard, it became my yard and my house. I was older now and there were friends in the house. I stood just outside the house and I held a branch full of cherry blossoms in my right hand. In the middle of the yard between two cherry blossom trees sat a little girl about three years old. She was my daughter, and she sat with a woman and was painting her face with blue, red, and gold paint. As I watched them, my daughter finished painting the other woman's face. But the woman was unhappy. She didn't like the way my daughter had painted on her. I found it very beautiful though, red and blue and gold paint sparkling on her face and a glob of gold dripping through her hair. But the other woman was in fact also me, before I had wanted my daughter, and her discomfort with children had been my own. The other woman left when I approached my daughter because she had never really been there. I gave her the branch which was from her father, my beloved, who was away for important reasons. He had asked me to give it to our daughter to make a bed of flowers. She set the branch down and layed across it. We were happy and in love.