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#1) In the first dream there was an old lady travelling through a thick temperate forest on a ship. The ship was magical and it could sail across both water and land. The old lady was hunting down an enemy that she had been pursuing her whole life.

She comes across an old man who is stranded in the middle of the forest and offers him a ride on her ship, which he gladly accepts. Through their ensuing converstaion it is revealed that the old man is the enemy that the old lady has been hunting for, though they do not fight because they are too old and too tired. The forest clears and the ship sails away on a large body of water, and the dream ends.


#2) The second dream takes place on a peice of land owned by my Aunt and Uncle, out in the eastern coast of Canada. There is some sort of gathering and we (both friends and family, as well as some random unrecognizable characters) are all sitting around two fires on opposite ends of the open space, wrapped in blankets or doing various activities. The sky is overcast and it is "spitting" rain, but the gathering continues despite the slight chill coming off the ocean.

I am sitting on the ground near one of the fires when a shadow falls over me. I look up and there is an elderly Native American man standing over and staring down at me. He is dressed in the traditional clothing of his indegenious clan (though I cannot recall the name of the tribe) and radiating a pleasant warmth. It becomes quickly apparent to me that no one else can see him. The dream becomes fuzzy here and I cannot remember any more for a bit.

Later in the day the drizzle has stopped and there are a few partings in the clouds where the late afternoon sun shines through. The gathering is still going full strength though I am laying down on a blanket away from everyone else. Through half lidded eyes I again see a shadow fall over me. I open my eyes and there are three native indians in traditional clothing huddled together and staring down at me. There is a young woman who seems strangely farmiliar though I cannot place a name to her face. There are two young men, one who looks like someone I used to know named Mike (but with long hair), and another whose face is shrouded in darkness. I am not afraid or worried, though I am a bit uncomfortable with all of them staring at me in silence.

I get up and go over to my Aunt Dorothey, and ask her who the three strangers are, even as they continue to watch me. Again, though, no one else can see them except for me and my family silently thinks that I am eccentric. For some reason I know what my family thinks of me. The dream ends there.


#3) The third dream takes place in a busy city with narrow streets. There are two people with me; a young woman and a young man, and though we are friends in the dream I do not recognize them as anyone I know in waking life. Everything about the city seems very dreary and grey and takes place in the Chinese section of town. I think it's raining.

The young woman and I give our hair scrunchies away or something and then convinced the young man to come along with us to buy some new ones. We all went into a store that had three stands filled with hair elastics. Even though it wasn't necessary or whatever, my friends and I wanted to buy bigger and more poofie scrunchies.

There is an old man in a grey trench coat standing in the entranceway of the strore. No one else sees him except me and we make eye contact. His look unsettles me and I am afraid to leave the store because I know the old man is waiting for us. I cannot remember any more of this dream.


#4) In the last dream I was a beautiful Chinese movie star who had just been signed on to a new movie. The filming location was deep in a temperate forest and was difficult to get to because there were no paved roads. There was a shallow, rushing river near the filming site that I had to be carried across because there was no bridge and I did not know how to swim. For some reason I was already in a bright red film costume when I was carried across the river. I could not see the face of the man carrying me across, yet he smelled farmiliar.

Filming eventually begins but is quickly halted when it suddenly starts to downpour. The cast and crew try to take cover in the equipment tents. As it is raining, the director adds a sex scene to the film, starring my character, and doesn't ask if I am interested in participating because he just assumes that I would. I refuse and say that my stunt double can do it, but she refuses also. I storm out of the tent and into the pouring rain after I quit because the director would not stop harassing me about doing the offending scene.

Morning of August 25, 1967. Friday.



Location (both in real life and in first versions of dream): Rose Street (and surrounding area), La Crosse, Wisconsin, USA - the apartment building that mostly served as a tavern below (a venue where my father sometimes performed) and apartments above, which was struck by lightning and burned to the ground years later, after I returned to Wisconsin.

Real-life Associations: Wendy the Good Little Witch comic book number 45 as shown here, with, I think, a news agency stamp of August 17th, 1967 (“publish date”, which is sometimes several months ahead the release date, listed as December 1967).

Characters: Me, the young version of Alice Liddell (the real “Alice in Wonderland”, 1852-1934) as Wendy the Good Little Witch in “real” human form (recurring - I cannot presently recall a dream-witch who did not have black hair - she also wore a blue outfit rather than red - sorry Harvey fans, blonde witches just never seemed “right” for some reason), and a few random adults. Interestingly my wife had a very similar haircut around that same age, so that is just another intriguing familiarity, I guess.

This was the first occurrence of the “rain shield”. The first version of the rain shield or “bubble” shield was in the Pepto-Bismol pink I have mentioned in other entries. I could have lived without it, I suppose. I have not had pink as a dominating color in my dreams very often since late childhood. Blue has mostly been the most outstanding. At any rate, it was mostly about being “protected” from the rain in several recurring dreams this way, and it eventually became one of my own recurring dream abilities after moving back to Florida. Sometimes, it was a special wristwatch I wore (when it was not just “mind-power” or magic), which of course was a special variation of the 1967 Omega Seamaster, which could also allow the wearer and anyone he held hands with to walk on the ocean floor (which was less common than the walking and flying in the rain dreams, but to be honest, I actually liked walking and flying in the rain in some other dreams).

The shield was mostly egg-shaped and transparent, extending out about three feet from me and whoever I was with. I still had one dream of it now and then at age twelve. These were some of my more vivid and (lucid) self-reflecting dreams, which were eventually “replaced” by the flying in a cloak in the dead of night dreams - which tended to have the same overall amazing mood and feelings of peace and bliss.

Historically speaking, this was the day (25th) that a certain Nazi Party founder was killed at a laundromat in the US. Not knowing any better, I told an older girl (D. Rockwell) I knew at the time how sorry I was that her father was shot at the laundromat. Obviously, this was no close relation, so she looked at me in a very puzzled manner.

Morning of April 2, 1967. Sunday.



When I was much younger in my dream work (around age nine), I had later tried to recall or determine associations with this recurring one as if it might have been based on an obscure real-life memory (even though only a few years had passed at the time since living in Wisconsin), though that does seem somewhat unlikely.

My parents and I visit, a few times, an old married couple on seemingly the west side of the street, possibly Third Street in La Crosse. They live in what seemingly used to be a large clothing store and the one large room is mostly their living area. The storefront door and windows (and now empty window display area) are mostly always blocked from the inside with multicolored velvety curtains. It is still mostly a commercial area of the city, though.

The old couple typically sit at a smaller dining room table, right next to the wall, man facing west and woman facing east, where there is a small bowl in the middle of the table (though sometimes a plant pot) that catches rainwater from a leak (though it does not have to still be raining at the time). The leak is usually only one drop at a time. For some reason, the whole scene and living area does not seem unusual at all. We usually visit them around nine in the morning or earlier.

It seems possible that my dream was built by associations with the “Jack Sprat” poem (possibly the only association I had at the time with an older couple at a table in this manner), the “Don’t Let the Rain Come Down” song (Serendipity Singers 1964 version), and an actual one-time visit to an older couple in the city. Still, this is one of the mysteries from older dream work as it somehow seems more relative to a real memory and place, which for some reason, is more elusive than much clearer memories from this time period. I usually kept my dream work secret (mostly due to believing that published works about dreams were all completely wrong), so did not ask my parents. It could be a composite memory of two places we frequented in reality.

Morning of April 4, 1976. Sunday.



There is some sort of strange weather in Arcadia which I become aware of while I am on the high school grounds. It is apparently a mysterious rain that changes people in ways that make them more menacing and selfish. People on a school bus that passes me as I walk east, even the driver, have a menacing countenance. (Normally in my dreams, rain is a positive event which I enjoy experiencing. This dream, however, is dark and eerie, though not in a directly threatening sense.) I see my best friend Toby T grinning nastily at me through the window (on the left side from the front view) of a school bus as it is ready to drive from an area that buses are never actually ever parked in real life, on the actual school grounds. It is in the area near the covered sidewalks that run north and south. No confrontations occur; just an unusual mood as I wander around, myself remaining unaffected by the “evil rain” and in fact, seemingly the only one in an outdoor setting. (This fact seems contradictory to the idea that the rain is changing people though only in conscious afterthought, as everyone else is out of the rain for the most part, though again, my dream does imply that the rain is somehow responsible) There is a continuous night-like darkness in my dream even during the supposed daytime.

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There is a possiblity that my dream was influenced by the film title “The Devil’s Rain” (from 1975) though I had only seen a few scenes from it by this date.