Dream of: 25 May 1988 "Goat-Like Face"

I was in a room with several other people, all sitting in chairs in a semi circle, except for one standing woman who talked and talked and talked, until it seemed she was trying to take over the group. Since I didn't care about listening to her, I finally decided to get up and leave. As I started to depart, some people began protesting that they wanted me to stay. I replied that I would love to stay, but that I thought everyone in the group should be talking and that the one woman shouldn't be monopolizing the group. I pointed to several people who I thought should also be talking.

I also thought it would be easier for everyone to talk if the group was arranged in a circle instead of a semi circle.

My old friend Steve Weinstein was in the group. He seemed to be wearing a dark blue shirt and blue jeans. I wondered what he thought of the whole situation. I went to visit Weinstein in a house where he was staying located about 25 kilometers from the house where I was presently living. My house was a large old house which didn't have much furniture. Both our houses were located in a secluded area and as soon as I saw Weinstein, I mentioned how strange it was that we two were living so close together.

Weinstein had been studying painting and he wanted to show me some paintings he had done. I walked into a large room with him, where I first noticed about five panels of paintings arranged like Japanese silk screens. A couple panels looked as if they had almost completed paintings on them.

The first painting I noticed displayed the life-size image of a seated man who was wearing a cap such as a Frenchman might wear. The background was quite red. Although the painting wasn't yet completed, I was amazed at its exquisite execution. The man's face was very white and seemed to have a goat-like quality which reminded me of paintings by Marc Chagall.

Weinstein talked about the painting, which apparently was of a brother of his who had died when the brother had been quite young, even though the man in the painting looked as if he might be in his early 40s. Weinstein had somehow figured out what the brother would have looked like if he hadn't died.

I looked over the paintings on the other panels, but they weren't yet finished. I told Weinstein how impressed I was by his work. He hadn't been studying painting long, and I was surprised he had such obvious talent. This was what I had always thought Weinstein should be doing. He seemed so happy doing this and he seemed as if he were finally able to express himself. He seemed so different now from when he had been doing a different kind of work which he hadn't really liked. Apparently he now worked constantly every day on his paintings.


Weinstein asked me to help him do some painting. He had a sculpture and after he gave me some red paint to put on the sculpture, I lightly painted part of the sculpture with the paint.

When I had finished, I began brushing some beige paint on a painting, but I suddenly realized Weinstein hadn't told me to do that. I pointed out what I had done, but Weinstein was unperturbed.


A man who was Weinstein's father walked into the room. It was difficult to tell how old the man was. He told me he and his wife had always liked me because I had always been able to detect Weinstein's artistic abilities, whereas most people couldn't. He thought I knew Weinstein's talents would someday blossom.

I thought I was a lot like Weinstein. I also had been doing some painting lately, but I knew my real art was writing dreams. I could sit and write dreams for hours and hours, just like Weinstein could paint. I told Weinstein I had also been doing some art work. I also knew I liked to make collages, but I didn't think I could use the same skill needed to make collages that I could use to write dreams.

I mentioned to Weinstein that I was living close to him in a big old house which was really a run-down mansion. Fixing up the house would require quite a bit of money, but I liked the house.


Weinstein and I were at my house, and I was going to show him a painting which I had done. It was actually a painting and collage combined. Basically it was the life-size image of a reclining man. The man's head, clearly visible, was tilted forward, as if he were looking out over his body, but his eyes were closed as if he were sleeping. His body consisted of abstract designs and pictures, and new ideas for the design came to me even as I was perusing the work. I had a small Christian cross which I wanted to put among the other pictures on the body of the man. The cross was supposed to be very symbolic of something.

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