2001-01-15 - 18:41:35

My room was in the left corner of one of the main older dorms. There had been a legend around the school of the original keepers of this property, a black family from the turn of the century. Something tragic had happened to the family but noone really talked about it, the school was very beautiful and the people who went there were always warm in heart so the school had a good vibe. My room had crumbling brick walls that had been whitewashed. There was a strange bricked up fireplace or brick oven or something in one corner of my room. I sat on the bed and stared at it and had psychic flashes of the black man being buried there - he had been cut in half first and buried in two separate pieces. I saw him being dragged in two halves and then bricked up in that space in my room, a hundred years before. Each half of his body still had clothes on . . . I was spooked by this knowledge, but for somereason I wasn't frightened of this place like I often get scared in real life.

I decided to take another shower. All the rest of the people at the school had just arrived and were getting to know one another - they were all in the cafeteria for dinner and there was a present exchange going on - where each student had brought one small present for a certain number of all the other students and they were distributing those and making friends. I didn�t want to go there. Instead I went to take a shower.

In the bathroom, I paused to look in the mirror. I kind of always do that before I take a shower - I look at my hair and decide if it needs washing or not. What is strange about this is that in the mirror, my hair was red. I had beautiful red hair. I was removing little butterfly clips from my hair and stroking it and it was naturally red, not dyed, and this was totally acceptable to me. This is surprising because in my waking life I have dyed black hair, and even my natural color is a dark brown. Natural red hair of that color would be impossible and I accepted it so naturally. In fact, I vaguely remember that I didn�t look like myself in the face either - my face was somehow different too but I recognized myself as me totally.

The dream sort of trailed off as I spoke to other students who were going exploring in the countryside and I got dressed after my shower --- but in the dream I can remember thinking I shouldn�t go to Canada yet, I should finish out the semester here. At one point the students were talking about some of the professors leaving and it was suggested that if I stayed, since I already had my degree from Agnes Scott, i could step in as a professor and I was entertaining that prospect. The point of the dream to my dreamself was not to leave the school in the middle of the semester and leave things undone or I would have wasted my time there.

I am so impressed with the vivid places I go to in my dreams. I have never seen places like them in my real life and I wonder where they come from - I can only assume that the place I go to in my dreams is a whole country of places just as real as this world - because to imagine places as intricate and beautiful as my dream world would be very difficult - and I�m doing all of this while my body is sleeping! What a trip.

I am curious why my mother has been appearing in my dreams so much this fall. I never dream about any other family members and rarely dream about even close friends. But my mom keeps popping up as a minor character in my dream. Who is she representing or what aspect of myself is she representing? I must think on this. It is interesting to note that my mother has natural red hair.