Dream of: 04 July 1987 "Black And White"

I was unsure what was going on, but I was apparently looking at a picture of a woman. The picture, however, seemed real. What was so strange about the picture was that the head of the woman in the picture was disappearing; in place of the head were some lines, as if a black hole were developing where her head should be and was sucking everything else in around it. The sight was grotesque and a little scary; it was alarming me.

Bang. I knew I was dreaming. That at least explained a little of what was going on. So I was lucid. Things weren't clear; but it looked as if I had some cards, like playing cards, or a packet of some kind of papers in front of me. I knew being lucid was far from what I used to expect and hope for. In the first place, being lucid required much effort. I didn't particularly like that; I would prefer to just drift along. Now that I was lucid, however, I had to assume control of this situation, or else just awaken.

It seemed that the last time I had been lucid, I had simply tried to awaken. This time, however, I would at least try to do something. I could begin by simply looking at these cards. Yea, I could just let my imagination go a little wild, but still try to somehow direct my thoughts. Myriad images danced around. The images seemed to have some form, but I wasn't trying to concentrate on precise form. That was too much strain, especially for my memory. I told myself not to worry about remembering all this.

So what should I think about? My book. My ex-wife Louise. Yes Louise. Vague, but her image seemed to be there in the cards before me. Now that I had brought her into this dream, I was assured this dream would be incorporated into the book of dreams on Bonnie. I was satisfied with that.

What else could I see there in these cards? A rose. Ah yes, that rose was very clear. I could distinctly see its wide petals. So beautiful. And so enveloping. Not merely cards before me, but a large picture of a beautiful rose almost enveloping me. But what color was it? I couldn't seem to tell if it were black or white. Definitely one or the other. Black. White. Strange. Maybe it was both.

This wasn't so bad. I was in control here but the strain wasn't overwhelming. What else? Eloise (a woman a few years older than I whom I met in Dallas). Yes I wanted to see Eloise. I wanted her to be part of this. It seemed early in our relationship for me to be focusing in on her like this, but she made me happy. And I was glad to see her there. I wanted her to be here.

But what was this I saw? The head of a cat. So intricately drawn and changing its features even as I looked at it. Where had this cat come from? Had it been drawn in pencil? Was it black or white? It was so precise and yet so unclear. There was something most striking here. It was the nature of the cat. Although it seemed so cuddly and soft, there was something quite alarming about it. Not exactly evil, but indeed dangerous.

I could see danger, in its eyes, in its teeth. I felt wary, I should be cautious, I should be aware of the danger here. Real danger. Danger such as I could only guess at. Yet it was so alluring. Such a soft-looking creature.

And there was Monito, the little kitten which Mireya (a girlfriend from Colombia whom I had met in Dallas) had left with me for a week. All white and so playful. There he was up on a table jumping around. And there was a box on the table all wrapped up like a present, a ribbon hanging from it. Was it for me? I wondered what it was.

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