Dream: A Night in Paris
excerpt from a diary entry a few days ago
Dreamed about Paris. The Eiffel Tower. I had a special invite that let me spend the night. I had access to Gustav's private room at the top.
There were a dozen young people there that I've known over the years. AD, KH, DH, C, Cnd, Z… and some longtime friends.
Somehow, because I had a ticket, they all got to stay. But everyone had to sleep in sleeping bags on the floor.
At night we danced and laughed and tried to make the tower sway. I explained how the sideways elevator worked.
I felt like a genius as I described some kind of mechanical scissor device that pushed the car along a train track. It didn't make any physical sense.
Except in dream language.
When I woke up in the dream, we had moved in the night down to a platform at rooftop height. The view was of a red brick neighborhood like you see in New York.
There was a cat that jumped back and forth from the tower to building tops. If you were nice, it would let you ride on its back.
I sat and drew in my book. Quiet and unassuming. Minding my own business.
I drew elaborate plans to make some kind of mechanical thing. Beams and girders and elevators.
I rode the elevator. I was worried I wouldn't get all of my thinking done before the tourists arrived.
I went to ground level. It was wide open, but nothing at all like reality. It was more like the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral.
AD was photographing everyone with some kind of special camera that let you go into the photo later.
Since I was the host, I asked to be in the photo.
Everyone resisted because they had forgotten who I was or why I was there.
AD agreed, thinking she was being kind to some old homeless guy.
But in the photo, I was glowing gold and everyone could see that they had underappreciated my generosity.
I rode the car back to the observation deck and heard someone shout:
“The sun is coming up! The sun is coming up!”