Sunday, January 18, 2009

Bathtub Dream

I had a strange dream last night. I was living in a huge house, a very old house with several storeys, rooftop statues. It was in a city. It was a dream about a haunting. Somehow I was on the roof and knocked over several stone statues. Inside the house was a black bathtub in which my youngest child was bathing. It was a huge marble tub, and I had lined it with a sheet so that he wouldn't slide in the tub and hurt himself. Suddenly I got a bad feeling concerning the haunting and went to check on my child. He had disappeared. The dream ended with me frantically searching for him. This dream is similar to the one I had earlier about the lost child on the beach, except this dream had a more domestic setting. As I write this I know that this house is similar to one we lived in in the 1990s, a duplex we rented in Bowling Green. It was a huge, crumbling mansion with a large tub (although not a black one). I have been dreaming of versions of this house for some time, including dreams in which I purchase the house but must move it to a rural setting.

1 comment:

Cynthia said...

Very intriguing dream. I haven't remembered a dream in months. I miss them.



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Northwest Ohio, United States
"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

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Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

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The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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