Tuesday, March 6, 2018


I have been dreaming more than usual recently--or at least remembering the dreams. I have refrained from posting a couple of recent ones--disturbing dreams about war. By contrast, execution seemed almost a relief.


We are gathered to witness an execution, but the identity of the person to be executed is unknown to me.

The event is to take place at the top of a steep hill in a rural location. The authorities will provide transportation to the site but, along with a few others, I choose to walk.

The path is steep and rocky, like a dry river bed, and the climb is arduous. Ahead of me is a couple, man and woman, dressed in tweedy clothes. Seeing only their backs, I do not know who they are, but they walk slowly, as old people do.

At some point, approaching the top of the climb, I overtake the couple--though without greeting or recognition.

Close to the hilltop and my eventual destination, I find myself at the mouth of a long tunnel hewn into the rock. It glows with light from the far end. I enter it without trepidation... but there the dream ends. I never reach the site of the execution.


Not much doubt about this one, I'd say. It's clearly about the approach of death. My sense is that the old couple ahead of me were my parents. There was a pleasant sense of peacefulness about the dream. Sure, the climb was long and steep and rocky, but I don't remember any feeling of fatigue.


Addendum: a single image from a dream, the rest of which eluded me.

A completed crossword puzzle, whose theme was the name Dali. In the puzzle, the letters of the name were repeated throughout, down and across, backward and forward, around and around...

(I always think of Dali as a pretentiously artsy guy, the epitome of the self-conscious "artist." Perhaps this is a deeply embedded part of me that I still need to relinquish: the "writer").

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