Dream Weaver 3.3


My friend Avery sent me a dream:

This is the gist of what happened.  I do not usually dream with such vivid details.  texture.  sound. smells.  color patterns on walls.  This was remarkable.

Rebecca and the kids had just returned from vacation.  She returned with a giant 30 foot tall, 10 foot wide levitating boulder with a huge mechanical dragon with beating wings that periodically belched actual flames.  This boulder came with an observation platform, from which you could watch the dragon breathe fire at random intervals while the rock drifted lazily in place.  This attraction was installed at the top of a plateau or at least on the edge of a cliff.  Behind the observation platform was an office type building with lots of windows.  I worked in this building.  At first it was a chiropractor’s office.  The dream lasted multiple dream days.  I had the impression of going to work in this office multiple days.  I am not sure what I did.  I was working there before the boulder attraction was installed.  I returned to work the day after the attraction was installed and the office had been rearranged into a bank.  There was a queue of people lined up waiting to use the atm in the entry vestibule.  Almost everyone in line was someone I knew and loved.  I unlocked the bank and invited people to come in and have an actual person take care of their needs instead of some impersonal machine.  Another co-worker showed up, a female with reddish brown hair who I was not familiar with, and occupied a desk near me.  I sat at my desk.  People began to queue up to the single chair positioned next to my desk.  It was old.  Red leather upholstery, well-worn wood arms and back.  As each person got to the front of the line I greeted them with a warm hug and smile.  Sat them down.  They gave me their atm card, and I attempted to dispense money from my drawer, but it was a writing desk, and filled with little scraps of paper, and yellow receipts with a collection of pens and pencils.  There was some money tucked randomly throughout the central desk drawer and as each person gave me their request I rifled through the papers and found the sought after amounts.  After the third person I stood up saying “this is ridiculous” went over to the other person also attempting to provide people with money… gave hugs to the people in her line, said I was leaving, and walked out of the door.

Later my dad would show me plans for turning what was the chiropractor’s office into the bank that Mr. Rissacher’s daughter Jan had drawn up, (Mr Rissacher was the chiropractor, an actual person I know in real life, an actual Chiroprator) but had not shown her father.  Contractors had come in over night to transform the place without him knowing.  I later realized that the experience of working in the chiropractor’s office was a dream within the dream.

I also had a dream within the dream about my grandfather; a separate dream.  I do not know what happened in this dream, I only got vague impressions… I know that it involved my grandfather, bulldozers, and the Korean conflict, and that it somehow related to the dream I had about the chiropractor’s office.

After I left the bank I climbed the observation platform to watch the mechanical dragon belch flames over the open expanse of cliff.  Rebecca came running up to me panicked, saying that Jason (her ex-lover) had fallen down the cliff and the Dragon was about to shoot fire any minute now.  If I didn’t act soon, he’d be broiled alive.  I immediately started to leave the platform, but to get to the boulder controls I had to descend a narrow and precarious completely vertical ladder and jump off of the end to the safety of the cliff top.  I executed this no problem, but it took some time, and I knew I had to hurry.  I ran around the base of the platform to the open-air exposed controls of the boulder.  It was several levers, a few knobs, and a dial all attached to a metallic grey box rising up out of the cliff.  None of which were labeled.  I could see the boulder lazily drifting toward where Jason hung tenaciously to the cliff side about 3 meters from the top.  The dragon’s mouth was beginning to open, and the “puff puff pock pock” noise that preceded every blast of flames began to emanate from the belly of the mechanical beast.  I threw a few of the levers.  They did nothing.  I looked at the giant grey plastic dial at the top of the control board.   With impending doom, I somehow knew it was a last ditch move to use, but I turned it anyway.  With a death star tractor beam powering down sound the boulder lost its levitational powers and the dragon shut down.  It began to fall, directly toward where Jason was hanging.  I watched in horror as life began to move in slow motion.  I dragged myself through space toward a niche in the cliff top.  I saw the boulder rotate slowly, twisting as it came down toward where Jason hung.  It began to crash into the cliff side; as it plowed into the earth, Jason managed to pull up and roll into a sitting position tucked into one of the claws of the dragon.  The boulder continued to fall, scraping against the cliff, the dragon’s head bashed into the observational platform sending sparks sputtering into the air.  I saw that the falling boulder would head right toward the niche where I waited.  Just as it passed by I was able to reach down and grab Jason’s foot and pull him to safety at the top of the cliff.  The boulder tumbled further along the cliff face and fell crashing down to the bottom of the ravine several hundred feet below.  I was shaking.  Jason was shaking.  I asked if he was ok.  He said yes.  He said he needed to go home and change.  I watched as he walked through the bank.  He had understandably pissed himself at some time during the ordeal.  The rear wall of the bank / office space was open.  He entered and walked in.  It occurred to me that I had to drive the kids home.  Rebecca had already disappeared.  It was getting dark.  I drove them back to Rebecca’s house.  After dropping them off I passed a large industrial type building with several garage doors.  In front of one of the doors was a plush brown couch.  I thought to myself “wow, that’s a nice couch to be sitting outside in this weather (it had gotten cold, and looked like it was going to storm soon).  On the couch were seated three old women.  As I drove by I noticed one of them (the one in the middle, in the light tan coat, was Grandma Lillian (Rebecca’s Mother’s Mother).  The women to her left and right were her friends.  They wore darker brown coats.  They were involved in a deep discussion.  I got to where I was going.  Which turned out to be a line of people waiting to get into a large building.  I’m not sure whether it was a shopping center, or a movie theater.  It was some kind of mall.  It was not open.  We were all waiting for it to open.  The people standing immediately behind me were parents of one of my son’s classmates from elementary school.   He asked me how things were going and where I was living now.  I told him I just came from Latham, dropping my kids off.  He then asked why he saw me on the corner of Second and Adam’s in Troy all the time, and I told him I live in Troy.  I told him I have an apartment in Latham, and an apartment in Troy.  But I mostly live in Troy.  I woke up.



When we watch a movie we know we’re watching a movie. We know it cost a lot of money to make. Thousands of hours of labor by designers, grips, carpenters, camera operators, focus pullers, editors, actors, producers, directors, lawyers, agents and a lot of other people go into a movie’s making. We know this. We know that movies are constructed in a way so as to manipulate us emotionally and psychologically. We expect this. We are prepared for this, yet we still have physical reactions to movies. We still have emotional reactions to movies.

We are imprecise machines because we are bodies. The front of the brain only thinks it’s driving the train. We are animals.

Cats are always tripping. I made quinoa salad last night and man, when I squeezed that lime it freaked my cat the fuck out. We are animals.

Dream within a dream. Movie within a movie. We get wrapped up a lot. Fear of death is fear of a lime. Fear of flying is fear of Freddy Kreuger. The Last Supper was the first ever depiction of the Wu-Tang Clan.

Things mean a lot because we are animals and we think they should. The idea that symbols have significance is a game. Politics is a game. The goal of every game is for everyone to have the same experience and pretend not to. Hence significance. We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases.

All I need is my house, my gat, my act. I don’t need anything. Neither do you.

Sit down tomorrow and ask yourself why you’re asking yourself what you’re asking yourself. This should take many hours. Be prepared to confront nothing.

Do this always.





About Adam Tedesco

Adam Tedesco is a founding editor of REALITY BEACH, a journal of new poetics. His recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Laurel Review, Gramma Weekly, Prelude, Pouch Powderkeg, Fanzine, Fence, and elsewhere. He is the author of several chapbooks, most recently HEART SUTRA, and ABLAZA (Lithic Press), and the forthcoming collection Mary Oliver (Lithic Press, 2019). View all posts by Adam Tedesco

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