The Party Pen Dream

Dreams of Rats, Houses, Teaching & Akira
Woke at 3:53am to sounds of dog barking (mine) and weird dream ending (or interrupted).
The dream featured a huge old house and a party for maybe 1,000 pax. I saw a rat and drew a gun to shoot him but he laughed, turning into a cartoon version, tweeked his whiskers with little hands and hopped away. (I know rats don’t hop but as he had become a biped, he was more like a kangaroo in appearance.)
As the party ended I went up to the attic where Akira Isogawa lived in a long room that ran the length of the house, read a book and fell asleep. I had a knife with me.
When I awoke he was sitting at his desk under a lamp working minutely on a huge piece of paper but the rest of the room was dark. I apologised and went to leave. He got up and playfully hugged me- but with his back to mine.
The sun was coming up and I had to go or I had to go to work- teaching- but probably the timetable was wrong (a reality quite often).
And then I was the personal assistant to some woman and my pen leaked everywhere and her female friend mocked me. The blue ink (a cartridge fountain pen) on the white floor and on my work book are very crisp images- and my boss grabbing the book trying to help but actually pushing the book more into the puddle of ink.
During this drama there is a man watching me, holding a drink as if he is at a party, and he comes over to talk but I am too busy. His face is blurred like a still. Later I see his drink seems to have hair and on closer inspection, it has thin grass growing out of it similar to what I have in my fish tank.
And then walking with Akira trying to cross a busy highway interchange: car blowing their horns, no pedestrian crossings. And where did I work? But I couldn’t answer because the overpasses obscured the city. Dawn was just coming up, the streetlights and advertising signs still on, contrasting the pink and blue morning sky lightening against streaks of grey and white stratus clouds.
And where was the house where the party happened? (Someone else asking?)
And then the dog barked.
Can you see why I am not hugely interested in analysing my dreams?
And as usual just as I wrote the above sentence another detail came to mind- and just then during this sentence.
Long ago, probably around the age of 21, I used to write down my dreams every morning when I awoke- I did it for a year, maybe more. I wanted to get access to that other side of life that we do when asleep and perhaps unlock some secret.
I found that there were some insights that came from the experiments that the unconscious plays at night but I never got heavily involved in dream analysis from a psychiatric or psychic (ala Alison Dubois, Medium) point of view. My dreams tended through different modes of action that were either an obvious attempt to deal with past traumas or to play out new scenarios for the future, and sometimes they were just a play of patterns and light, like the lightshows we used to create with lasers back in the 70’s- and it was at this time that I worked with Ellis D. Fogg doing just that.
The main value of that year was that it broke the barrier between my waking and sleeping minds. Now when I wake up in the morning I quite often remember a dream I have had as if it was a TV program that I had watched and enjoyed to the point of being able to recall the story and the plot- a rare occasion in real life since TV is so dull.
I wonder sometimes if I shouldn’t develop a hypnotic trick so I can just lie down and watch my dreams instead of TV. I am sure it would be more original and certainly more interesting.
And why was the fountain pen I was using one of those cartridge types with a spar in the barrel? And how come much more ink came out of the cartridge than it could possibly have contained? Why was Akira’s long room so dark when Japanese like very bright rooms?
There may be answers to these questions but I won’t find them tonight.
4:22am. Hmm. And will I be able to go back to sleep? I hope so.