Anyway, some fortunate combination of eye drops, pills, pain killers and anesthesia gases has prompted some very deep sleeps and some very odd "dreams". It started with the dream that looked like an early sixties French film...
I was at the beach, but in France in the early sixties. Somehow I was both watching this dream, and in it at the same time. Many people were walking on the boardwalk, all dressed in very stylish knee skimming skirts with large polka dots and lots of giant Jackie-O sunglasses with chiffon scraves in ice cream colors. Handbags on short strpas draped over forearms but with those elbow length gloves that ladies used to wear. The men were wearing fedoras and suits (remember: we're at the beach) with slim legged suit pants and their lapels were edged in contrasting colors. In brief, ebveryone was dressed to the nines. Large cars with fins were gliding past. There was an odd slowness to the way people were moving, sort of like we were all moving through a kind of medium, like the air was made of vaseline or jello. (Could be I'm seeing blurry...)
And then there was a man who somehow stopped time. He made a gesture or blinked his eyes and everyone was frozen in place except for him... and me. I somehow saw him and what he was doing. He wasn't aware of me observing him so he created miniature disasters, like knocking people's drinks over so they spilled on their perfectly confected clothes. He took several eggs and scrambled them together slightly and poured them on a woman's table so that her arm was coated in yolk. He kept performing tiny destuctive acts and then the affected people would wake up to these small transgressions, utterly unsure of what had happened and how. I guess I was like an overarching conscience, observing but not judging. The dream just looked great: so classically stylish and modern, in the best sense of the word.
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