This is really vague, but there was this latina woman in my dream.  She reminded me of Selma Hiack.  She was teaching me things, either about cooking or about plants.  When asked what her name was, she replied, “Esmeralda.”  She was very beautiful and I felt I was learning some really valuable things from her.  I’d like to see her again.

There was a fence around my mom’s house and I had planted a bunch of trees and other things around my mom’s front and back yards.  Brad was needing to load up some building materials to construct something and had uprooted a tree that I had planted and torn into the fence so that he could load the materials into the yard.  He’d fixed the fence in a makeshift way so but intended to come back too it to do it right.  I was walking around looking for somewhere else to plant the tree.  I didn’t feel upset about it but I was having a hard time finding the right spot where there was good light but not too much of it.

I walked into the back yard and there were lots of big hanging plants that I had grown and they were all very beautiful.  I was examining them and feeling their healthiness and hoping to find the right spot for the tree.

I was looking at the top of my head.  My hair was shaved all the way around and growing out of the top of my head were nappy locks of hair.  Andy was there with me and I was commenting that it didn’t seem healthy and that I needed to clean it up.  There were small buds growing on the ends of the locks and I was picking them off.  I didn’t know what they were but I wondered what they would bloom into.  My intention was to pick them off and comb out the locks so they were smooth and healthy.  I turned around and behind me hanging on a clothes line was my old army backpack.  I was trying to put something into it but I was having a hard time finding the opening to the backpack main pocket.

To quote Van Halen.  I was being chased.  My dream started with me in a VERY large and deep pit in the sidewalk and street next to a large building.  I had lured a man and woman into the pit so that I could escape from them.  They reminded me of Heman and Shera.  He was this big northern barbarian type with long blonde hair.  He was wearing a brown leather chest piece and a loin cloth.  She was much smaller by comparison, had blonde hair, and was wearing clothing of a similar origin.

As I escaped the pit that I had trapped them in, I looked down and read that dismay on their faces.  But I knew my job wasn’t over.  I had yet to escape the flying demon.  He looked like what many depict as the devil, with red skin, horns, claws on the arms, hoofs on the legs, a long tail with a triangle at the end, and large bat-like wings.  But I didn’t think of him as the devil but rather a demon.  He was after me flying through the air.  I ran into the stairwell of the building.  I knew that the only way to  escape was to run the stairs to the top (10th floor).  Once I did this, I knew that I then needed to run back down to the 7th floor.  Once I reached the 7th floor, I looked down a corridor that led to an outdoor patio.  There, I saw the double doors open and I knew this was my escape to freedom.  I think there was something medical about is as I remember people that I think were in lab coats.

I was watching some trucks driving down the street.  One of them was a dump truck.  It wasn’t rolling on four wheels however.  Someone inside the truck was driving it down the street on a bicycle wheel with one foot.  The other leg was hanging out the window at an odd angle to keep the truck balanced.  I think he had a big challenge when he came up to a red light and was forced to balance there perfectly and couldn’t do it and the truck came down.  Whoever was in the truck with him threw him out as if he had failed.

I was so astounded by his ability that I went into some cafe and was telling these people what I saw.  The difficult thing was, I was trying to tell them in Spanish.  I didn’t do a terrible job but I was feeling that they were getting a little impatient with me, which was always something that bothered me about using spanish with people who’s english was as good or better than my ability to speak spanish.

Lyndie, Alesandra, Richard and I were in a  cafe to play a show.   There was a guitar, and bass, and mic and a mixer.   Lyndie and Alesandra went up first and did a song or two.  Then Richard and I went up.  I played bass and Richard played guitar.  Someone wanted us to play a song called “Taxi Cab” that I didn’t know  and Richard barely knew but I followed him and we pulled it off.  When we were done, Richard put down the guitar and walked away.  I started to go for it because I wanted to play one of my songs but Alesandra kinda pushed her way in so that she could do something.  I told her that wanted the opportunity to play something of my own and she acquiesced.

I was at work and I needed to go from one building to another and Bill showed up with this girl. I recognized her from Bill’s house. She had hurt her ankle and he was taking her to an infirmary at Y! We stayed with her and chatted a little. She was nervous about her ankle but I assured her that everything was going to be fine. When she was called on, we left. Bill’s car was not the Prius that he normally drives but this old Dodge Charger. The body was in good condition but the inside was half finished. He had laid down this tericloth kind of fabric in light and dark blues but the pieces in the headliner were drooping down because he hadn’t finished tucking it into the weather stripping of the doors and windows. I asked him why he didn’t finish it and he said because he’d grown tired of working on it. His attitude was kinda odd. He seemed to have this egoic confidence that portrayed itself as pompous.

I was walking into a book store. I was possibly looking for a bathroom, but was attracted to walking toward the left to an isle with a low book rack. I turned left into it and there on a shelf to the left again was a music cassette by someone by the name of “Sean Imler.” I knew this wasn’t me and was relieved that I hadn’t chosen Sean Imler as my stage name. The title of the cassette was something like, “Raca” and there seemed to be a Hawaiin theme or element about it.

Suddenly, I was in a tent and I was watching Sean Imler do some sort of performance. He was about my height and pale complected with very long wavy hair that was pulled into a ponytail. I believe he was wearing a hat and was dressed in a colourful sarrong sort of garb with a simple loing sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The dance consisted of him holding a hand-made ceremonial bowl possibly made out of banana leaves, and he was simulating scooping up something, water or food, and then offering it to the spirits or gods. He was doing this to his music which seemed to be some sort of traditional Hawaiin or combination of Hawaiin and something else.

I remember thinking that he had a wife or lived there in a camp or something.

I was riding my filing drawer down the street… sitting on top of it and using my legs to propel me.  I was juggling a number of objects while trying to talk on my celly with the wired earbud in and the cord was getting in the way.  I was holding my Yahoo! star, plus a miniature version of it, and some other objects when I realized that I had a new hands free device that I would rather be talking on so I was trying to disconnect the wired earbud and get the hands free out of my pocket while holding all this stuff.  Other co-workers were walking along with me but one I knew happened to mention that I looked like I was quite busy with all this stuff and still having to push off with my legs.  I told her that it got better than that, reached forward and pushed a button on the front of the filing drawer that made it automatically go by itself.  It was going quite fast as I turned the corner and said goodbye too her.

Suddenly, I was on the street I grew up on heading toward my mother’s house.  Lined up on both sides of the street were 60’s and 70’s muscle cars, all painted in red, white and blue metal flake paint, with stars and stripes.  They were all beautiful machines, and occasionally I’d see someone with the car.  As I get to my mom’s house which for some reason I associated with work, I realized that it was 10:32am and I was too late for breakfast.  I was disappointed until I noticed that at Dorothy’s across the street, there were 3 chefs making some sort of pasta, ham thing with a cream sauce.  I walked over and explained that I’d missed breakfast and really wanted some of their food.

It was then that I woke up, turned over and looked at the clock and it read 10:32.  Weird.

I was walking down an aisle at a large concert and U2 or just Bono was playing from a seat in the audience.  I sat down behind him and kinda nodded hello.  There was an open space next to the seat and then another seat where Bono 15 years younger with long hair was sitting.  The Bono that was playing started talking too me in between verses of the song and while playing guitar.  He was nodding toward the open space but I couldn’t really understand what he was saying though I tried.  I thought maybe I was sitting in someone else’s seat and maybe he wanted me to sit in the open space but I couldn’t make it out.  He finished his song and turned around.  The other Bono pulled out a lawn chair and set it in the open space and sat down in it.  Then he pulled up a large box and started pulling out sleeveless basketball tees.  He had them in white, red and black with yellow numbers.   I asked for a medium and he gave me a red one with the number 5 on it.  Then I saw my co-worker Issac walking by and wondered if I was in his seat and asked him if he wanted to sit down but he seemed to be focused on something else.