Dream of: 07 December 2002 "Passing Through Walls"

As I was sitting comfortably in the living room of the Summerdale Drive House, a woman (probably in her mid 30s) and a child (probably 6-7 years old) entered and sat down about a meter from me on my left. Who was this woman and how had she entered my living room?

She was tall and thin, captivatingly radiant. Her presence was relish; but surely she wouldn't stay long. Even when I asked her how she had entered, she didn't say a word. I hadn't seen her come through either of the two doors in the room. It was as if she and the child had simply walked through the front wall. Was that possible? I was intrigued with the idea of bodies passing through sold objects. Did this woman and child possess that power? Surely not; surely they had somehow entered through one of the doors while I hadn't been watching.

Who was she – this finely dressed, graceful creature? Probably from some religious group, proselytizing; occasionally such persons stopped here, but I rarely allowed them in.

Then I remembered – she was an Avon lady. She had been here earlier for a few minutes. What a contrast she presented; she certainly didn't seem like a lowly purveyor of cosmetics. I actually enjoyed her presence; but of course I wasn't interested in Avon. I recalled I had once bought some Avon at a yard sale; the Avon was still somewhere in the house; I didn't need more.

I also recalled having recently seen an advertisement in a newspaper about positions for Avon salespeople; I had thought how desperate someone must be to take up such work. What a contrast; this woman didn't seem desperate at all.

My dog was sleeping on the couch – the couch with the carved eagle back – directly in front of the woman. When the dog woke up, I was afraid he might start barking threateningly at the woman. Instead, he stood, walked to the woman and docily began allowing her to pet him.

I continued to talk; the woman remained silent. She handed me a book, more like a picture album. I thought it would contain pictures of her wares. Instead, the album contained photos of the woman, from her childhood forward. Was she married? Was her husband wealthy? Did she simply do this work to pass the time? I was curious. Who was she? Some childhood pictures were followed by a number of high school pictures such as might be found in a high school yearbook. The pictures were of groups of people; I tried to distinguish which person she was. In one picture, the name of the high school was sewn onto some cloth which was draped across the chest of each student. As I tried to discern the name of the high school, the woman finally spoke: "Chicago," she said. So she had grown up in Chicago.

Another picture showed her as a child in the home of her parents, sitting at a table in the kitchen with the living room in the background. The house appeared huge; sturdy furniture sat atop brown hardwood floors. Opulent? Had the girl grown up rich? I couldn't tell for sure. I had grown up in somewhat similar homes, but my family hadn't been rich. Maybe her upbringing was similar to mine.

By the time I had finished perusing the pictures – the woman had sold me! I was going to buy something from her. This must be her method – to sell herself. I valued her company so much, I was willing to pay for it. If I bought something now, she would return again, and I would see her again. I didn't need any Avon, but I was willing to buy a little just so the woman would return.

The purchase, the transaction, was undertaken in a swirl. Without even being aware of what had happened, I was painting a picture. The woman had supplied everything – canvass, paint, brush – even the frame. The picture was about a 18 inches wide and about 12 inches high. My strokes were wide and brash; even I wasn't completely sure what I had so energetically painted; but it seemed to be a seashore house sitting near waves crashing over boulders. Quite amateurish, but invigorating. It wouldn't be appropriate to hang here in the House. But Carolina walked into the room and gave me a suggestion. She said I might hang the painting in one of my rent houses. I recalled I had recently acquired two rental properties which I was fixing up to rent. Yes, that would be appropriate – I could hang the painting on the wall of one of my rental properties.

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