leaving my family

I was staying with my family and A was with me. It was in the hours before we were due to return home and we were organising flights over the Internet and packing our bags. Finally, we sat in the dining area, which was more like a restaurant than a home dining room with several tables in the room rather than one large table, and the entire family shared a meal. We ate and talked - a time of togetherness and community. I had the sense that A and I had done this before, that this was our second 'leaving', but I could not recall the details of the first event. Before we had finished our meals, A said that it was time to go. I glanced at my watch and realised that we had left it very late; we only had minutes to get to the airport before the plane was due to leave. I took a hasty bite of my fish and removed a long, thin bone from my mouth, then collected my handbag from under the table and stood to leave. My family were saddened and surprised that we had to leave so soon. Several family members followed me into another room inside the house to say their goodbyes. One by one, we embraced and I told them I loved them. There seemed to be immediate family members as well as grandmothers and great-grandmothers who are no longer alive. I knelt on the ground in front of my great-grandmother - a final farewell and a gesture of respect - and then left the house. A was on the street doing her best to hail a taxi. It was raining and night was falling. Cars and buses sped by but taxis were few and the ones we could see were occupied or turned off the street before passing us. I decided to phone and book a cab but the numbers on my mobile phone shifted around as I pressed them. Meanwhile, A was searching for our tickets as they had disappeared. She had unpacked the contents of her entire hand luggage and had it sprawled over a raised bank. I joined her and rifled through my hand luggage, looking for our tickets. We found other things: a lost silver ring, letters, towels, money and such, but no tickets. Too much time had lapsed and we had to accept that we had missed the plane. We calmed ourselves and repacked our things, deciding to go to the airport where we could order new tickets. A said that she was surprised that I didn't just stay with my family. I felt torn between this home and my home far away.

new space

I was about to rent an art studio in the same building that I had previously rented a space. This space was far more suitable. It was a large L-shaped room with an inbuilt desk against one wall. Instead of the walls completely meeting at the corners, gaps the width of regular doorways had been left, open to the outside, so that the room had cross-breezes from every angle as well as natural light from the gaps and the windows in one wall. It was a beautiful space and I was excited about moving in to begin a period of intense creative work. The breeze blew through, constantly refreshing the air in the room and carrying with it the perfumes of the outdoors and the sound of distant laughter.

song

I heard a small group of young women perform at a concert. They sounded great but toward the end of one song, it changed slightly and I realised that I recognised the melody and arrangement: it was a song that I had written about seven years ago and had recorded with a local ensemble. I felt outraged that someone had stolen my song.
Next, I was waiting for someone or something. I was not sure for whom or what but the dream was filled with the sense of waiting. Though there were others present, I undressed, stepped into a shower cubicle to wash. I was aware that I could be seen but I had no feelings of shame or modesty, rather I felt totally uninhibited and disinterested in the thoughts of the other people around. In fact, I expected them to regard me with the same disinterest. Once finished, I dried myself and dressed. More people had gathered in the space and among them, the trio of young women who had performed earlier. I decided to confront them about the song. At first, they denied any knowledge of its existence but then I sang the song back to them and told them that I could prove that I wrote and recorded it. I also pointed out that the singer had been unable to hit the highest notes powerfully and then demonstrated how it could be sung. Two of the girls confessed that they had indeed stolen my song and asked if I might be interested in fronting the band for that song. I pretended I might be interested so that I could get others to witness their guilt, and then I yelled at them, saying I would sue them.
Next, I was sitting in an audience and someone was holding a record. There was a photo on the front of a beautiful young woman and there was no title. I knew that the record was either mine or the trio's but I couldn't be sure. I was frightened that they had taken away my opportunity.

snow

I was at the home my family built when I was a child. My parents were also there along with various other people, all the age we are now. Although I knew it was summer (according to the calendar) the weather was indicating winter. It was icy cold and we were all doing what we could to stay warm. I went upstairs to my bedroom to change my clothes; I needed to find something suitable for the outdoors, particularly for walking through a field where I was to dig something up. I put on a thick, cream woolly jumper over several layers, my jeans, and a pair of long camel-coloured boots with a sturdy heel. I held other boots in my hands, weighing up their appropriateness for the task ahead of me, but decided that their heels were too thin or high. Once dressed, I ventured back downstairs and went to the window to look out. I wondered if I had dressed too warmly seeing as this was summer, but I could see people walking up and down the street outside wearing even more layers: parkers, coats with hoods and fur trims, scarves, gloves and beanies. Suddenly snow began to fall from the sky. I called out to my parents and ran outside. It was the first time I had seen snow and I wasn't entirely convinced that this could really be snow - in Newcastle, in summer. I caught a snowflake in my hand; it was a little different to what I had expected. It was soft and white, like a small part of a cotton ball that had been torn up. It was not cold to the touch, rather it was its extreme softness that was most surprising. The snowfall was very light, like the falling of leaves or flowers under a tree in a gentle wind. I stayed outside, feeling wonder, until the snow stopped falling.

connection

I was sitting with a friend in a factory above a vast vat where pasta sauce was being cooked and stirred by a machine. There were stainless steel surfaces everywhere and the hum of industry filled our ears. We were talking intimately - about what I cannot recall. I imagined falling into the pasta sauce below and drew in my breath sharply - the picture in my mind was far too clear. My friend wondered what was wrong and I explained that I had an extremely vivid imagination. It was time to go home as the day had turned to night and I needed to meet B at home. I tried to call her but was instead connected to a radio station where I could hear a close friend of mine conducting a radio program. I was delighted to speak with him and find out what he was up to.
I walked home - home was the house my family built in Newcastle when I was a child only now B and I lived there as adults. I had cooked dinner earlier and I was anxious about her coming home from work. It was dark and late so I tried to call her on my mobile phone, standing across the road from home. I repeatedly dialled the wrong number and had to dial again. I couple of times I was connected but was disconnected again. I tried calling from a public phone booth, also directly across the road from our house, but couldn't get through. I tried calling my ex-partner, urgent for someone to come home. I could see the golden lights of my home, shining through the windows. Several people had gathered around me - a few men and one or two women - who were keen to spend some time with me and keep me company. I felt a confusing mix of emotions: I was worried about B as it was now one o'clock in the morning; I was not sure that I wanted these people in my home though they were nice; and I was growing weary. I went across the road, actually entering the house for the first time. There was a small group of men in the lounge room, watching television quietly. I walked into the kitchen, intending to try to call again. I looked at the clock and was again surprised by the lateness of the hour.

beauty

I was collecting items of beauty: underwear made from scraps of silk and lace in gem colours - ruby, amber, sapphire, emerald and garnet; lipsticks in silver cases - fuscia, red, vermillion and coral; shimmering eyeshadows in shades of blue, silver, sand and green; bespoke clothing made from the most delicate and interesting of fabrics; more cosmetics in varying shades, packed in intricately designed cases. I packed all of these things to take with me on a journey. Later, I unpacked the various shades of foundations I had collected that were housed in small glass vials, and tried one shade on my skin. The liquid spread evenly but then formed tiny bubbles under my fingertips. I rather liked the glittering bubbles which turned a silvery blue, so I left them there, my face sparkling.

faint

I was sitting in a lecture theatre, next to the lecturer. She was operating a computer, conducting a PowerPoint presentation, whilst addressing the class. The images became out of sync with the words and I tried to help her but then photographs of babies appeared on the screen. The photos seemed to be of the class members when they were young. The computer then blacked out entirely, putting an end to the lecture. The lecturer put her arms around me and we sat, quietly, while the others filed out. We then prepared to leave the lecture theatre. My car was parked directly outside and, as we approached it, we could see that someone had scratched it - not just one scratch but the entire car was covered in scratches, as though someone had deliberately scraped the red paint away. I accepted it seemingly stoically, saying that I would just have to get a cut and polish, but really it rocked me to my core. I didn't feel that I could cope with another setback. We opened the gate from the small courtyard where my car was parked to the green outdoors and I fainted. My lecturer didn't notice and continued walking down the path. I lay there, conscious yet not, perspiring in the engulfing heat. I could see beads of sweat running down the skin on my arms; my skin was golden and I was wearing sky blue. My lecturer returned with help: another woman and an aged male rector. I was immediately concerned as I didn't want the rector preaching or some such thing. My fears, however, were ungrounded; he simply sat beside me, as they all did, until I stirred. My lecturer whispered in my ear: don't give up. Finally, I wiped the perspiration from my brow, pushed the hair from my eyes and stood up. The three people all left without saying anything further and I walked to my car.

stars & cars

We were in Newcastle, driving along a road that winds through the centre of the city atop a hill so that the city spreads out on either side of the road. My father was driving, I was sitting in the front passenger seat, my mother and my friend, R, were sitting in the back. I was gazing out the window, looking up at the glittering stars which, rather than scattered randomly across the sky, were lined up neatly in a row of about twelve stars. I mentioned the unusual formation and my mother and friend in the back looked up through the window in the roof of the car to see the stars. Some of the stars moved out of formation: they made the shape of a caterpillar and swam, much like the motion of an amoeba under a microscope, across the sky. Suddenly my father asked if we would like oysters for dinner. Our attention was immediately brought back to the road where, in front of us, two cars had crashed, blocking the road. One was an oyster carrier and we could see shucked oysters spilled out of the van, scattered over the bitumen. In the spilt second we had to think before we reached the two cars, I felt it was inevitable that we would crash also crash, but my father saw a slender gap between the cars and adroitly navigated our car through the gap, just shaving against one car, a white Mercedes, and passing through unscathed. He then, with a great calm, indicated and pulled over to the left so that we could swap details with the driver of the Mercedes who was walking around the crash site. It appeared that no one was injured. I was amazed at my father's incredible control and his great driving skill. We knew that he had managed to save us from what may have been a disaster.