Kidnapping

Date: 8/27/2022

I am with Bonnie at an art fair in a mall parking lot. She has made an oil painting of three figures. A man in brown, a woman in blue with a waterfall. For a head and a third in the corner. We discuss if it should by hung right side up or upside down. She makes it into a giant mixed media collage with lots of paper work. I want to go to sleep, but she keeps going. I try to turn off the parking lot lights, but can’t. Some homeless sleepers offer advice. Eventually Bonnie leaves and I sleep under a car seat. The car is being kidnapped. There is an elegant man in the front and a woman next to him in the back. I explain that this is my car even though I can’t drive. I call 911 and narrate our trip. Then we turn onto lake view, the police stop the car with a harpoon. I wake up in the car in a parking lot near office buildings. I don’t know what happened. I go to a lawyers office for advice. There is a very short old woman also at the door, but I go in ahead of her. I talk to the lawyer in his office. It’s m naked except for a towel I hold my n front of me. I explain what happened. I start to break down in tears because I don’t know it it’s real or imagined. The police have no record. I’m afraid I’m losing my mind. I remember telling someone in an office. He suggests that maybe it’s the office of the local native band. We go into a very modern office building and take one elevator up to the fifth floor and then another down 60 floors. I say this seems unlikely that I did this. We get to the office and the chief confirms my story. I still need to get into the car. I am waiting in an alley with a woman with red hair. I start to make a collage with translucent paper and glue. Her friend is coming soon, but then she has no memory of it. I am reading a 115 page long book about someone losing their mind. It’s described on the cover as a poem, but it’s written as a postmodern novel. There is an epilogue that’s just a series of dots. I find it scary. I am transported into a basement where we are hunting some kind of beast. I can’t handle this and run upstairs. Everything I knew was false and I start to panic. I say I can’t handle this anymore and slap myself hard in the face to wake up. I do wake up, slapping myself. It was a terrible dream. There was another dream segment where my father and I are walking around the Sifton Bog and see a large water snake. I try to take a photo. We are now indoors looking at the big and there are thousands of snakes, rocketing from one side of the room to the other. We step outside and I see seeds that look like snake eggs.