I dreamed that I was planning to meet a group of friends to go out...I think for someone's birthday. The first odd thing is, there were about four of us, and I didn't recognize anybody from real life in any way. Suddenly it occurs to me: where do I get the templates from for fully consistent, completely 3-D people that don't exist? One of those reasons why some people and some cultures have taken their dreams so seriously...
The other thing is that we were gathering in a convenience store. Pretty much an ordinary convenience store. But then over on one side, it opened into a nice coffee shop, where some apparently acclaimed (but again, non-existent) artist did a whole slide show about his art. Both paintings and glasswork. His daughter was there, and she was really pissed off about various mishaps with the advertising and the venue; fortunately, I wasn't putting it on or anything.
During the talk, mention was made of an exhibit at a large gallery that had been on the Main Street of the real town where I live. In my dream, I had a whole complex memory of having gone to this place many, many times. Even in the dream, I knew it wasn't there anymore, but I didn't remember what happened to it or when.
That was the point when I knew I was dreaming. But I couldn't believe my memories were so wrong, so I started jotting down every specific thing I remembered about this place, to look it up on the Internet when I woke up.
When the alarm went off, the only thing I retained was that there'd been an exhibit called "The Spirit Made Flesh" (which would have been no help at all). Not that I needed my notes, because my first real thought on waking was: there was never any gallery on that stretch of street, much less one that big! What was I thinking?
The shows I saw there that never happened were pretty cool, though.
Suddenly it occurs to me: where do I get the templates from for fully consistent, completely 3-D people that don't exist? One of those reasons why some people and some cultures have taken their dreams so seriously...
I can't conjure up these people in my waking imagination. Why is it that they are so fully-formed and "real" as I'm falling asleep and also when I'm asleep?
Where do the strange people, landscapes and situations come from? I've asked myself that many times.
For the concrete universe crowd...they'll say that it's all simply manifestations of a physical organ. You are no more than a biological robot. Enjoy the free entertainment until you are dead.
Being more in the metaphysical camp, I dig deeper. I see consciousness as something of a cosmic radio dial. What am I tuning in, and where is the station coming from?
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