Running from Adam

The Dream: Clark and I, and Adam and his partner, are two teams of spies. Clark and I become suspicious of Adam and his “Operation,” and we want to get out of it. We try to flee undetected, but Adam soon figures out we’ve bailed and comes in pursuit. We are on the sidewalk, running from Adam, when Clark notices a Paramount Theater across the street, showing the Matrix. The theater is like the grand movie palaces of my youth. Clark says, “He thinks we’ll go see that movie.” In that case I think the theater is an excellent place to avoid, but to my surprise Clark leads me straight to it. “Why go here?!” I demand.

I don’t get an answer, but instead we wander into the dark bowels of the place, with its labyrinthine twists and turns beneath the main floor. Adam is in hot pursuit. At one turn we come to a market where artistic goods are sold. I admire some lovely glass pieces and try to decide which to buy. I am torn between a beautiful, very tall amber candlestick holder and a clear glass bowl with sparkly flecks.  I choose the bowl because the candlestick, while very lovely, has no practical use.  I don’t have room for something that is only decorative, but I can use the bowl to serve food to guests. I have something I am offering for sale at about the same price in this bazaar; I wonder if anyone will buy it. Adam is still after us; that anxiety looms over all.

Interpretation: Adam, in the Judeo-Christian tradition, is the first human who knows he will experience mortality. In this dream, my mortality is in hot pursuit. We duck into the Paramount (of greatest importance) Theater to confront this fact of life. The film that’s playing, The Matrix, symbolizes the intricate web of life on earth.

In the middle of this, a bazaar (yes, life is bizarre!) appears, and the dream ego is temporarily diverted by pondering a very basic question: Is art utterly useless, as Oscar Wilde tells us, or should it have a practical purpose? The deeper meaning here is my hope that my life (my art) will have a purpose. I’m hoping that the piece I buy (the things I've chosen to do) can, indeed, be used to nourish others. This can only happen if others buy (accept) what I have to offer. This remains a hope, not yet a psychic reality, since fear of death still looms.