Fancy Feline Dreams
My sister & her husband have a huge home, very new, and it could house a small army rather than their small family of three -- and two dogs (Labrador retrievers, called The Bumpus Hounds after the dogs in A Christmas Story). However, in this dream, it is just my sister and I...
We are in her immaculate and large kitchen, which is full of streaming sunlight. My sister moves between the huge center kitchen island and the sink, preparing something or other, and we are chatting (there is no conversation, rather the air of being chatty -- as if the dream started before the dreamer was aware of it).
I hear a small 'meow' and am startled as neither my sister nor her husband are cat people. I look around, and off to my right is a small dark animal figure. It is definitely a feline shape.
As I approach it, I say to my sister, "Oh, you have a cat?" To which she replies, not looking up from her task at the sink, "Yes, the Dobsons brought it over." She sounds bored and more than a bit annoyed -- no exasperated actually.
I feel bad for this little critter so small, quiet and (I feel) unloved. I lean over, and as a pet lover will, I croon something or other as a 'hello' to the cat. Being respectful of felines and their moods, I don't dare bend to pet it until I am certain it wishes me to (not wishes me to pet it, but wishes me to bend toward it for whatever cat-game it has in store), so I lean in for my 'hello' and then I begin to straighten back out of my lean. It is then that I spot something -- I am not sure, but I think I see a flash of hot pink.
Sort of a pearlized or metallic pink, but very bright. I look at the cat. She seems unconcerned, unfazed by the rudeness of such scrutiny. She almost seems to welcome it. In fact, in my mind (my dream mind) I can almost hear her say "Please, notice me." So, I now crouch down beside her, this small, elegant ball of black fur. Nothing seems unusual. She's black as black can be, and I tell myself her coat is so black, so shiny, that I likely saw the sun play across her fur, and cause a bit of a prism effect.
I raise my hand to pet her, and then I see it again. Something pink -- and something blue, bright turquoise blue! I am too close to be mistaken, my bent-over frame blocking too much of the sun, and in slow motion I focus in on the cat's fur.
It seems that her coat of black shiny fur is an illusion, for her body is colored in pink and blue 'splotches' of fur -- that sounds too ugly for what beauty is here, yet 'splotches' is the only word I have to describe it -- and above it, black lines -- fibers of fur... Or is it feathers?
It vaguely resembles peacock feathers, but only because that's how language limits. Even drawing limits; its two dimensions limiting the play in depth & texture of this three dimensional cat creation. For while starring at the cat, I see these black markings as distinct from the pink and blue bursts, at first glance, they are not visible. It's as if I have super-vision. Or that I have been given a special gift, the ability to see such a thing.
My hand is still raised to pet her, but I am afraid too -- afraid of damaging such beauty. Without taking my eyes off the cat, I say to my sister, "My God, she's beautiful, what sort of cat is this?" upon which my sister replies, her voice sounding preoccupied with her kitchen tasks, and again this faint annoyed quality, "Oh she's a (can't remember the name this dream cat breed has). The Dobsons had a litter, and they are quite rare, so when they offered one to us, we couldn't say 'no'..." Her voice trailed off as if the exquisite cat was nothing other than an exercise in the social discomfort of a non-cat-person concerned with offending a person of standing for what is presumed to be such a gracious gift.
I myself am still peering at the cat, with my hand frozen somewhere between feline and my own torso, struck by this mysterious and special creature. And struck dumb as to how my sister can be so nonchalant about this precious animal.
I look at the cat. She looks back at me. Her eyes sparkle, but I don't see a color. There is depth, but no way to describe them. Like her patterned coat, her eyes defy description for there is nothing else like them. But it's not how her yes look that is important. Her eyes seem to compel me to touch her... She craves some affection, to be treated as more than some dustbunny that one must feed... But I am too amazed by what I see, and I am afraid I will ruin such delicate beauty somehow...
Then, as I sit there, it's as if I hear the cat again. Her voice seems to be in my head saying how she misses being pet, caressed; that no one loves and appreciates her. I move to touch her, and I hear or imagine her sigh of relief and delight as I reach to do so. My hand nears her and she fans her fur-feathers fully, like a peacock spreads his tail feathers. It amazing to watch the fur glisten, shimmer and glow & I know, I know it will be as soft as kitten fur... Then everything else blurs and the dream is gone.
It's not until days later that I shake-off the empty sad feelings of the cat. And longer still to remember my standard line about heaven:
"If there's a heaven, I want a job painting cats."
So, now, what do you think this dream means?
We are in her immaculate and large kitchen, which is full of streaming sunlight. My sister moves between the huge center kitchen island and the sink, preparing something or other, and we are chatting (there is no conversation, rather the air of being chatty -- as if the dream started before the dreamer was aware of it).
I hear a small 'meow' and am startled as neither my sister nor her husband are cat people. I look around, and off to my right is a small dark animal figure. It is definitely a feline shape.
As I approach it, I say to my sister, "Oh, you have a cat?" To which she replies, not looking up from her task at the sink, "Yes, the Dobsons brought it over." She sounds bored and more than a bit annoyed -- no exasperated actually.
I feel bad for this little critter so small, quiet and (I feel) unloved. I lean over, and as a pet lover will, I croon something or other as a 'hello' to the cat. Being respectful of felines and their moods, I don't dare bend to pet it until I am certain it wishes me to (not wishes me to pet it, but wishes me to bend toward it for whatever cat-game it has in store), so I lean in for my 'hello' and then I begin to straighten back out of my lean. It is then that I spot something -- I am not sure, but I think I see a flash of hot pink.
Sort of a pearlized or metallic pink, but very bright. I look at the cat. She seems unconcerned, unfazed by the rudeness of such scrutiny. She almost seems to welcome it. In fact, in my mind (my dream mind) I can almost hear her say "Please, notice me." So, I now crouch down beside her, this small, elegant ball of black fur. Nothing seems unusual. She's black as black can be, and I tell myself her coat is so black, so shiny, that I likely saw the sun play across her fur, and cause a bit of a prism effect.
I raise my hand to pet her, and then I see it again. Something pink -- and something blue, bright turquoise blue! I am too close to be mistaken, my bent-over frame blocking too much of the sun, and in slow motion I focus in on the cat's fur.
It seems that her coat of black shiny fur is an illusion, for her body is colored in pink and blue 'splotches' of fur -- that sounds too ugly for what beauty is here, yet 'splotches' is the only word I have to describe it -- and above it, black lines -- fibers of fur... Or is it feathers?
It vaguely resembles peacock feathers, but only because that's how language limits. Even drawing limits; its two dimensions limiting the play in depth & texture of this three dimensional cat creation. For while starring at the cat, I see these black markings as distinct from the pink and blue bursts, at first glance, they are not visible. It's as if I have super-vision. Or that I have been given a special gift, the ability to see such a thing.
My hand is still raised to pet her, but I am afraid too -- afraid of damaging such beauty. Without taking my eyes off the cat, I say to my sister, "My God, she's beautiful, what sort of cat is this?" upon which my sister replies, her voice sounding preoccupied with her kitchen tasks, and again this faint annoyed quality, "Oh she's a (can't remember the name this dream cat breed has). The Dobsons had a litter, and they are quite rare, so when they offered one to us, we couldn't say 'no'..." Her voice trailed off as if the exquisite cat was nothing other than an exercise in the social discomfort of a non-cat-person concerned with offending a person of standing for what is presumed to be such a gracious gift.
I myself am still peering at the cat, with my hand frozen somewhere between feline and my own torso, struck by this mysterious and special creature. And struck dumb as to how my sister can be so nonchalant about this precious animal.
I look at the cat. She looks back at me. Her eyes sparkle, but I don't see a color. There is depth, but no way to describe them. Like her patterned coat, her eyes defy description for there is nothing else like them. But it's not how her yes look that is important. Her eyes seem to compel me to touch her... She craves some affection, to be treated as more than some dustbunny that one must feed... But I am too amazed by what I see, and I am afraid I will ruin such delicate beauty somehow...
Then, as I sit there, it's as if I hear the cat again. Her voice seems to be in my head saying how she misses being pet, caressed; that no one loves and appreciates her. I move to touch her, and I hear or imagine her sigh of relief and delight as I reach to do so. My hand nears her and she fans her fur-feathers fully, like a peacock spreads his tail feathers. It amazing to watch the fur glisten, shimmer and glow & I know, I know it will be as soft as kitten fur... Then everything else blurs and the dream is gone.
It's not until days later that I shake-off the empty sad feelings of the cat. And longer still to remember my standard line about heaven:
"If there's a heaven, I want a job painting cats."
So, now, what do you think this dream means?
Labels: Dreams
posted by MoviesInMyMind at 10:23 PM
2 Comments:
I'm not convinced yet that any kind of symbolism or meaning goes on in dreams. I prefer to assume that these mental images are just nervous twitches of the brain and visual cortex (no idea if that's the correct terminology!) but I confess I've never read any literature or heard any seminar on the subject. Perhaps if I did, I'd be won over. Also I realize that dream images couldn't be entirely random. There's a reason for everything. So there has to be something there worth analyzing.
For now, let me suspend skepticism and throw out this rather half-baked idea: There's something in your life that you desire to embrace but are afraid to. Something subconsciously precious to you but perhaps you'd be outwardly ashamed of it and thus suppress it!
Okay - so 'half-baked' was a bit generous. Let's say 'lightly toasted'. Okay, 'gently warmed'? Hey, I tried.
Half-baked or no, the idea has merit -- I certainly like it better than my thinking, which was that I was judging my sister & her husband for not appreciating what they have, and perhaps then justifying that I covet it ;)
I should post that I do not think my sister (or her husband) are materialistic cliches, so if this is my dream message, I dislike the judgemental dreaming me.
I don't know if dreaming is a 'brain center' to be found any more than the soul can, my friend. ...or perhaps it is precisely the same thing?
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