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All is Illusion
10 Sep 2017
Dream Blog - S.P. Somtow • Somtow Sucharitkul

I fell asleep after lunch and dreamed again! I dreamed I was at a science fiction con called "Space Camp Con" - only it was ACTUALLY a hurricane con. The entire con was in a series of rooms constructed on the upper floors overlooking an atrium. In one room, there were people actually watching an endless broadcast of the progress of the hurricane. I got on a two-way radio and spoke to rescuers in an amphibious vehicle that was ploughing through the streets of a drowned city.

I could watch the whole thing on a big screen with cartoon like representations of the characters. I went to another room and saw that a man on TV wearing a protective hat was speaking into a microphone, directing a rescue.

As I said, the rooms of the convention were all in a square opening onto an atrium, and a common veranda, made of wood, runs around the inside, making a common area were all the convention goers are gathering, There's also a scenic lift that opens onto the veranda. I don't know how many stories up it is, but I know that the hotel we're staying with, that atrium isn't an ordinary atrium because it has a huge tree growing through it all the way up from the ground floor to us, a tree with thick gnarled ashen branches ... in fact the tree is Yggdrasil itself, I realize.

As I walk along everyone recognizes me as the one who spoke to the rescuers on the TV. I've become a minor celeb, like a news anchor.

Across from the elevator, a boy with dark hair and a white shirt is standing next to his little sister. Somehow they do not seem to quite belong. The boy says, Can you help me, I am constructing a model of a mediaeval french castle. I say, sure, if you show me what you've built so far. The little sister pipes up, No! You can't show this work to just anyone! The boy says, "It's all right, I've known him since we lived in Baltimore." At that point I realize I'm on the west coast of the US and this must be some time after I moved to California.

He asks me to follow him to where his model is, and I start to do, but I reach the corner room and there is a gap in the hotel. In the corner there is a sort of brick-walled bit of wild terrain with trees and bushes, and a man is speaking into a microphone. 

There is a blackboard leaning against the wall and it appears to be reporting the progress of the hurricane, a list of cities being hit, but sometimes it is also a menu with cakes and pastries — it keeps changing.

The man with the microphone is wearing a protective hat (sort of like a miners hat). Astonished, I realize that HE is the man on the mike I saw on TV, and that the vegetation behind him is a set. I may not have been communicating with rescuers in the flood. All of reality might be an illusion.

As I come to grips with this cosmic paradigm, I wake up...

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