Sol's Dream Galleries

In Paul's re-occuring dream the same scene: Paul, pizza delivery guy and college student, steps into an elevator, realizes too late there's something wrong, then both the open door and red alarm buttons go dead. Paul looks at the other buttons, also blank. There's always a pizza that fits the corner in some perfect cartoon physics.

In Jack's dream he's standing in his doorway for the first time in a year, sees two milk bottles, then slams the door in a reflexive shudder of fearful dread. Gripping his thoughts again, he goes to deep breaths and some reason. The dream tilts slightly sideways like a carnival ride, as Jack feels a force pulling him into another scene, now it's from the past year, returning from his wife's funeral, stepping back inside, and locking out the world's busy irrelevance. Suddenly recalling how they both so loved fresh milk, he re-opens the front door, yet in the slowest motion, but the bottles are gone.

In Jenna's dream, there is ice and silence, she is calmly alive and can somehow breath, but there is a sense to be still, to listen, only observe the comforting blue light behind closed eyes. Sublime and mysterious, a cool realm that promises no answers, the rapt stillness is Jenna's invitation.

In Abraham's dream, he awakens while still asleep, yet somehow feels as if he has just seen the face of God. And, it looked like another man. But how can this be Abraham wonders, as no one has seen the face of the Creator of the Universe. Prophets cite God's description of man being  created in the very same image, but it's unknown. And then God speaks to him. God says, "We have always and will always know each other. You will see me again, even as you do not see me now. There is a different face for every star, yet not even one reveals me. Next time we meet, I won't look the same. Perhaps neither will you!" The swirling room of sleep then goes silent. Abraham, fully awakened, rises to begin his chores before dawn, full and whole in spirit, leaving for the day in his blessed orchards and fields, feeling recognized, his dream from the night now the sunrise.

In Justin's dream, he reappears on occasion to be in its presence again, the ageless engineer, anonymous by name, the only one who truly knows how the Great Sphinx was built.

Tiffany can hear how they all still talk about her, remembering those moments and memories together, although she cannot respond, on the other side now.

In Elon's dream, the invading aliens finally used an orange, foggy substance they somehow infused into the air that quickly and safely anesthetized all the mammals within 24 hours.

In Charley's dream, past foes echo ghost barks, yet he doesn't react, eyeing shadows along a dusk sidewalk. The dog knows one from long ago, so he growls recalling the face, but now his kind master is home with a treat, so life is good, loyal protector Charley curled up safe at his feet.

In Kathleen's dream the clock above a vase of elegant white tulips keeps future time, all the room needs and some soft angled light across corner to corner, a certain order to calm the moment, far from the disorder outside, or hide amidst a farmer's market crowd, the Sunday noon sanguine with mood clearly hopeful, and prospects very good.

In Yousef's dream a boy struggles to balance on his bike, then his dad's big hands hold the bars from behind, nearby his mom watches smiling as Yousef becomes alternately both father and son, then the boy shouts with triumphant glee, balanced, finally.  

In space lover Ariel's dream, she awaits the Martian dawn, with darkness dissolving into bright blue sunrise against pale orange sky, with Earth a faint dot twelve minutes away by light beam, Ariel's ticket back, but much to explore like the great Olympus Mons, a night gets you only half-way up, next night summit, but dreams have no such order like the perfectly drawn universe.

In Elie's dream, her sisters Sequoia, Calred, and Coastred, together become night's moving canopy, in sync by constellation and instinct, beneath the comfort of a great mountain, akin to an ancient river carved out of time, Elie's family grows, becomes all she encounters, embraces.

In Maro's dream, rare gem, lucid awakening as happens once or twice a year, she is here, her beloved lake, getaway to a world devoid of stress, she walks along paths lined with sturdy Jeffrey Pine, strong vanilla-scent resin alive in the air, Maro in bliss when here, without touching ground, all about her, peace the only sound.

In Darrel's dream he is in the room of his birth, there is purple smoke rising against curtains, somewhere near there is sobbing, the old neighbor next door plays his country music a shade too loud, Darrel stands on buffed hardwood floors, waiting for some luck, or waiting to be born.

In Luke's dream the lively stream winds along a descending slope, he stands on a rock by the bank, a fish leaps straight up out of the water like a shard of sunlight, cut thru the air as if gravity were a lie. Luke has forgotten his pole again, but it's better, less to tend, then he dozes, second sleep within sleep, that's how it always ends.

In Lara's dream the sea is all gray, the sand light brown, the distant horizon across water a single hand-drawn line. Lara senses a companion but sees no one. She walks along the edge of foam, toes curling into grainy clumps of cold, inhaling salty air, exotic, complex, exhaling twice as long.

In Virgil's dream, someone's right, but it's not him. At work all know, yet if he can just sit quietly in his space, Virgil's bosses will keep walking. Clicking off his monitor to make the air darker, he barely breathes. Outside, an empty metro rushes no one somewhere.

In Hannah's dream, town square minstrels play in silence, their ghostly movements mute the menacing mood, but not entirely so that she and friends sit ill at ease in folded chairs, fingers interlaced on their laps. All want to leave. Servers come with trays, and tiny cups of jet black coffee.

In Jim's dream, the foreign authorities walk right in without knocking, the leader turns into a sister so then things get calmer. They say with a wink he won't need a lawyer, but Jim worries there are spiders in the mailbox, secrets in the bushes, and maybe these folks aren't his friends after all. Time will tell, but time also tells lies.

 In Sandra's dream, she is tired, very hungry, someone's bread is baking, she looks in a purse, it's empty except for a stick of gum, and a Trader Joe's gift card that Sandra happily recalls has not been used. Then, a baker walks in carrying hot loaves in her apron.

In Harlan's dream, he is on the wrong bus that goes faster thru a rainy late afternoon, sitting, but he also holds the pole as the bus tilts and keels like a boat, while a small unknown boy stands before him, somehow perfectly balanced and with eyes closed, then the bus slows down abruptly, its roof is gone, and sunlight pours in.

In Sol's dream, the night is ink and shadow with a small moon somewhere unseen. A long coat sillouette slips down an alley, vanishing between garages. The three-year old stands up on his crib rail to reach the window- then, looks down over mute fog, dark curbs, slumbering buildings.