Oh, about a week and a half ago I began having the most vivid dreams, sometimes many per night!
I dreamed in one that I was a super uptight conservative man who was forced by a matter of conscience to work at a Mexican radio station with a very flamboyant, eccentric free spirit who I couldn't initially stand; I learned from spending time with him that he had a very difficult past that he was running from, and my budding sympathy for him melted my cold heart.
In another dream, a small, ancient Romanian gypsy woman offered for me to live in her hut with her, in order to keep her company. Because I was so transfixed by the gorgeous view of a sparkling ridge of snow-covered mountains, I agreed. While gazing at the peaks from the rickety front porch, a little girl came up to me and told me that she lived with the old woman as well, and that she felt that my people (meaning white Americans) "can't run and aren't funny."
In another dream, my (dead) grandmother came to visit me. She brought loads of art supplies and proceeded to draw a STUNNING, very unique illustration of the ocean that I've been meaning to attempt to reproduce. Just gorgeous. According to my mom, though, she never drew a picture in her life. Sad - the dreams are so vivid I thought for sure it would be revealing some secret gift that my grandmother had been hiding!
Last night I dreamed that I had fallen in with a group of rough-around-the-edges girls who ended up going through a large apartment complex in Seattle killing people with knives and axes. I was terrified of being guilty by association, and even just for my peace of mind I wanted to get away from them. A friend of a friend appeared to rescue me from this dangerous little revenge-bent pseudo-mafia; together we ran across a rickety, ice-covered, very dangerous bridge to the "other side of town," where a loving restaurant-owner took us in until we were able to catch a bus to the train station. "I'm a small town girl," I told them both while we waited. "This city life is too violent for me."