Last night I was at a gathering at which Debussy (the famous French impressionist composer) was a featured guest. I mustered up the courage to approach him and introduce myself, and we had a nice chat. I asked him about a former pupil named Jacques whose framed portrait was hanging on my piano teacher’s wall, but he didn’t remember him.
Of course I dreamed all this (Debussy died in 1918), but it was a nice change of pace from my usual where-is-my-class-I’m-missing-the-final-exam-I-never-studied-for dreams. Odd though that I dreamed about Debussy, whose music I never have liked all that much.
Good thread…for those of you who believe in heaven…do people age after they pass?
Imagine actually meeting Claude Debussy-to him, a 21st century American would be a strange person-different attitudes, experiences, mannerisms.
Which would make a meeting with someone from the ancient world (like Julius Caeser) really weird.
I basically remember squat about Jacques and why his portrait/photo was hanging on my piano teacher’s wall in the dream*. In real life there was no such picture. There was however a sign hanging over the teacher’s studio door that read “The Bach Door” (the teacher was a real wit). And Bach rhymes with Jacques. So there you go.
I saw Jeopardy yesterday in which Queen Victoria was the question to whatever Alex Trebek’s answer was, so it kindled the dream I had just before waking this morning. In my dream, Trebek looked at the contestant and said, “Yes, Queen Victoria.”
I said to the TV, “And Empress of India.” Trebek looked directly at me from the TV and said, “Yes, and Empress of India.”
My dream last night was far more mundane–no famous people dead or alive.
Just my family. Early on Saturday morning, my Dad decided to work on the water heater, again, and as a result, the middle portion of the roof started to collapse.
The water heater is in the basement, and I don’t believe it is structural. It did get replaced last Sunday, with bonus plumbing today.
The dream wasn’t scary, but it was the sort where thinking about it later, one thinks that if the events happened in real life, it would be scary.
Isn’t it? Correctly played it has it has all the soft desperate yearning and selfless devotion of the real thing. There is the lightest touch of tender pathos all the more poignant and cutting for it’s being held in check. It’s the only piece of music capable of bringing a tear to my eye without a single word. It captures love completely and without reservation in a naked and defenseless baring of the soul. Somehow he became a god for long enough to find those notes.
In real life I’ve been having weird experiences with a streetlight. So far I’ve counted twenty-two consecutive times that it goes off when I walk under it, and on again when I walk away. I’ve watched others pass under it, and it doesn’t happen to them. My girlfriend’s been visiting, and it happened when she and I walked under it for the first time, so I told her that this always happens to me. She scoffed and the next night when we got to it, she walked under it on her own. It stayed on. “See - it’s just a coincidence!” she shouted from a distance; I walked towards her, passing under the lamp, and it turned off. When I got to her it turned back on, and she whispered “there’s no such thing as ghosts?”. My skin went cold and prickly, but I am a rationalist, so I turned round and walked back towards it with purpose - and it turned off again.“Maybe you should take a different route home,” was her conclusion as we walked away and it flicked back on.
Anyway, two nights ago I was on the same path to my house, which winds through the jungle. This time all the streetlights on the island were off and it was unbelievably dark. The only thing I could see was a break in the trees in the distance, lit by starlight, where the path crests through it and branches off to my apartment. All around me was pitch dark, the darkest I’ve ever experienced. It was completely silent too - the only thing I could hear was my own breathing and my footsteps. I stepped carefully with my eyes fixed on the break in the trees, not wanting to step off the edge of the path. With absolutely no noise or warning I was suddenly hugged tight round the chest from behind by two arms. I called my girlfriend’s name, then the name of a couple of friends, and all I got back was silence and warm breathing on the back of my neck.
Woke up bathed in sweat with my heart pumping nineteen to the dozen. One of the scariest fucking dreams I ever had.
