Full moon dreaming

[altivo]

I awoke at 5:30 this morning from a vivid and theatrical dream complete with technicolor imagery and lynch mobs.

It seems I had earned a doctorate from "Loyola University." Not the one in Chicago, though, because the graduation ceremonies were being held in New York City. We were in some gaudy and stifling auditorium that vaguely looked like a church but had no altar. The speakers had finished and two bearded men in priestly vestments were about to begin reading names and handing out diplomas.

At this point two women (not as young as typical undergrads, presumably they were to receive graduate degrees as they appeared to be in their thirties) started loudly proclaiming their devotion to one another in terms similar to marriage vows. Everything stopped, of course, as all attention focused on them. The presiding priests or academics or whatever they were immediately became enraged and called for security to arrest the pair. They had the exits closed and locked and began a tribunal with the expressed intent of having these two women burned as witches.

At this point I realized that I was wearing only sweatpants and no shirt. Everyone else was, of course, way overdressed, yet somehow I had managed to escape notice that far. As one normally can expect in a dream, as soon as I realized this someone draped a vest around my shoulders and then a heavily perfumed and coiffured woman behind me noticed what I was wearing and started to complain about it to her neighbors. The rumbling spread and was surely going to draw the attention of the inquisitors on their dais. I tried to protest that, like Francesco Bernardone (Francis of Assisi,) I had given up everything to pursue my avocation and had no money for fine clothes, but this argument carried no weight. The whole scene started to take on the proportions of a lynching, with louder and louder objections to my state of dress and various calls for my eviction from the proceedings or else that I be included with the other defendants in the "trial." Gary suggested that I'd better get out of there, and we found an unguarded side door and ran through mid-Manhattan, down commercial streets and through little parks, though there didn't seem to be any pursuit. We were among the shrubbery in some park with birds singing loudly (it was apparently spring, which I guess is appropriate enough) and I remarked to him that they would probably mail me my diploma.

He looked at me gravely and said "It's Loyola. I doubt they will." At that point I woke up to the loud sounds of birds outside the window.

I have no idea where this came from, other than the fact that my brother (two years younger) did receive his own Ph.D. earlier this month from the University of Maryland. I did not attend because it was just a formality. He actually finished the program months ago, but the ceremony was now. He sent me photos of himself in the velvet robes of an academic. One was the usual formal pose, but in the other he was wearing Groucho Marx nose and glasses and holding a huge cigar. He said he was impersonating Marx as Quincy Adams Wagstaff, president of Huxley University in the film Horse Feathers. This is perfectly in character for him, and made us all laugh. (I never bothered to attend my own graduate degree ceremony, but just let them mail my credential to me, which is also pretty much in character.)

I suppose it may also have something to do with sheep, since they are on my mind this week...

Comments

[avon-deer.livejournal.com]

Why are sheep on your mind?

[altivo]

Oh. We're shearing them tomorrow morning, a production always filled with much baaa-ing and wrestling.

[avon-deer.livejournal.com]

They don't like it, eh?

I can imagine it's probably just fear. They feel better for the lighter feel of less fur. I know *I* do when I clipped myself the other week.

[altivo]

Oh sure. Once it's done (it takes only about five minutes for the actual process on each sheep but a great deal of catching and dragging beforehand) they suddenly acquire new bounce and act like lambs again. Even the geriatric ones zoom around kicking up their heels.

Sheep seem not to have any long term memory to speak of. Every year it's the same. Even the oldest ones, who have been through the shearing process many times, act as if it were their first experience.

This is quite a contrast to the horses, who never seem to forget and will still avoid the place where they were frightened by a shadow ten years ago, or check your back pocket where they once found a carrot (and only once, years past.)

[avon-deer.livejournal.com]

I wonder if Mouflons are more sensible? :D

[altivo]

PFBLTT! Nothing with a French name is sensible. Tasteful maybe.

Different breeds of sheep do have varying degrees of cleverness or learning ability, though, it's true. Ours have a good bit of Merino in them, not noted for much room upstairs.

[moonhare]

I suppose it may also have something to do with sheep...

As in receiving a 'sheepskin?'

[altivo]

That too, but more as in people are sheep who reject anything outside the "norm" for their flock, and who follow their leaders without questioning...

[rustitobuck.livejournal.com]

You realize that St. Francis of Assisi would be my favorite Saint.

Usually if I'm missing one item of clothing in a dream, it's my pants. As in, shirt, shoes, no pants. Wonder what that says about you?

[altivo]

Francis is Gary's middle name, and was both our confirmation names, for Francis of Assisi. Little Francesco was certifiably insane, I think, but in a mostly good way. I'm particularly fond of the film Brother Sun, Sister Moon and also of G.K. Chesterton's biography because they give a genuine impression of what I think he was like.

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I used to have those embarrassing dreams about going to school or work without remembering to put on pants. A number of famous (always male) authors have written about similar dreams. I suspect it's a frequent meme. I haven't had that kind of dream in several decades, at least such that I remembered it upon awakening.

Actually, I can't remember having any other dreams in which clothing played a significant role, though I suppose I must have. This one was an altogether odd combination of elements.

[rustitobuck.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I remember rather liking that movie. I'll tell ya, Tivo, there's nothing for me like shedding what clothing is socially or legally acceptable and going for a walk in the woods. Or, preferably swimming in the woods.

[altivo]

You make me think of mosquito bites, actually. The bugs are really fierce here at the moment. Tess comes in from the pasture coated with them and I literally have to scrape the mosquitoes off her hide.

[farthing]

Ah, it's full moon, no wonder the dreams have been odd lately. :-)

[altivo]

Yeah, I guess the moon could figure into this one.

[cabcat.livejournal.com]

I wonder what set that off, the subconcious mind does some strange matching games in all sorts of weird, wonderful and scary ways.

[altivo]

Oh there were familiar elements in it, and personal prejudices broadly displayed. I can't imagine why it was New York City, though. I've only been there once in my life, and that was nearly 40 years ago. I do remember a mad dash across Central Park trying to get to the Museum of Natural History before closing time, though.