Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Basement of Art

Dream: I was in my childhood bedroom, trying to entertain a couple of people who seemed to be an amalgamation of one of my niece and a work colleague. She was obviously bored, so we left and went outside. Across a busy street with heavy traffic in both directions I could see someone I used to work with in my previous job. She was moving into a new ground-floor flat with a girlfriend and we went over to say hello.

The front of the flat was completely glass, but some of it had broken and there was a workman putting new panes of glass in. The flat was mostly concrete and bare, but there was a strange square hole in the floor which I pointed out was dangerous. S said that it was the entrance to the rest of the flat, and we descended on a dangerous looking square lift. There was a lot more to the flat, two more floors underground, with brick and stone-clad walls that gave it the impression of a much older building. At the lowest floor was a huge kitchen, and I started to wonder how S could afford such a place, she was always so bad with money.

There was a servant in victorian era cook's outfit milling about and seeing to the food, and there was an odd annex. A strange little room where a few people were carrying props and illustrations, before one of them finally shouted - "Look, we've got it!" They posed, with the cook, and it looked like a classical painting. The painting had stars and light, which they reconstructed by setting fire to the cook's hat. The cook wasn't impressed, and the strange men laughed and wandered off.

I pondered the basement and how it worked. There were three lifts at least.

And then I woke.