dreams: March 13, 1998
old friends & plastic charms
I'm in a room with some other people, and it feels like we're being transported somewhere -- in a train or plane or something. I look around and see familiar faces from childhood: RT Lavatto and Nick Reid. Nick looks the same, with his blonde hair, baseball cap, kid face, and chewing gum. I reach out to RT, saying to both of them, "Hey, isn't it crazy to think about how long we've all known each other?" They look at me and totally agree, shaking their heads in wonder. I feel a connection with them. Another friend from early days comes over. She sits on my lap; I put my arms around her in totally loving friendship. She is large, wearing overalls, and has curly brown hair. Then I look around me. I see a Swarthmore Gazette newspaper stack and realize it's the newest one. I want to read it. I open the drawer of the desk I'm sitting next to and see timeslips for the other people who work here. Ivy the sophomore Swattie is one of them. Suddenly everything changes. I'm in a large room with a curved smooth floor, flowing up and down like a roller skating rink with hills. A performance production is going on; a bunch of little toys are bursting out of a thing on the ceiling. The small colorful plastic charms are scattering all over the place, bouncing across the floor. I'm having fun picking them up. I find a hand-sized yellow daffodil-thing with a face. It is shaped like a cup, so I drop the other smaller charms into it. Some are like fruit, others are flowers, others are characters. All are interesting to me. I then see that lots of toys are hanging on the walls in racks (like a store). I stand up and go along seeing if there's anything I want to keep. Someone points out to me that everything actually costs money. I'm surprised. I look in the corner and see a cash register, with a familiar man behind the counter (Ilme?). I decide not to necessarily grab so many things. I see a friend sitting at a setup near the wall. She is Anna Winthrop. She's trying to make an artpiece with silver mercury-wax but is having trouble because it comes out rough when she squeezes it onto the flat wall board in front of her. I see interesting picture frames in all different shapes; some look like rusted metal, in rich sienna umber amber hues. I accidentally knock down a display that was lodged in the corner; when I can't reset it up, I carefully lean it up on a shelf.
il gelato di Firenze
NEXT, I'm walking down a street in Florence, Italy. I'm at a place at the edge of the city where I can look down and see everything. It looks beautiful, with all the old buildings with rich colors (terra cotta roofs). I'm with Mom. We decide to go down to a shopping area. I'm scared that we're going to run into a gelateria or pane (bread) shhop along the way. I hope not as we walk down. There is a line of people outside the shop we finally find, so we wait. Then I'm inside. It's a gelateria. I'm now behind the counter, watching the person who works here scoop out an order for an American family. She/I are one person. We are scooping out Breyer's Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream onto a plate; it's coming out in a smooth creamy wave of vanilla gelato. John is here with us.
- FIN -
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