Radiation Level: Zed and Two Naughts
Listening To: The Floating Pyramid over Frankfurt by Chicks on Speed
I was late to some show I was performing in (though I don’t act on stage any more, the classic “actor’s nightmare” still regularly inhabits my dream life) and needed to bring something inside a locker to the show – a prop or costume, I think. What I can remember most is not having the KEY to the locker. It, like so many other objects in my waking life, had been misplaced and I was the one responsible. I hoped it was around somewhere. I went to my car and began searching. Glove compartment. Trunk. Back seat. That plastic red and white Target bag of stuff that I’ve been ignoring. Center console. Jacket pockets. Gym bag, including inside my spin shoes. Under the floor mats. Wait – is that a key? Really? I picked up this misshapen, key-like thing made of wood. I was dubious. Then I tried the key in the lock and BINGO, it opened!
To those of you Jungians out there, it’s probably pretty obvious what this means. Something about having the answer to some problem, only I don’t currently recognize the proverbial “key” as the right answer. And I should try various solutions, even if I don’t think they’ll work. To those of you Freudians out there, it probably means my female “lock” needs a male “key” inserted real soon. While I can’t argue with either of those theories, I want something practical and easy for my conscious brain to absorb.
I’m guessing this dream has something to do with the screenplay I’m writing right now. My mind is consumed with this semi-autobiographical story and trying to figure out how to make it all work as a movie. AmishGirl and RosieGirl both gave me stellar notes on my first draft (thank you gals, I’m soooo privileged to know you got my back). But there are certain problems specific to this story that only I as its creator can solve. That’s where the dream key comes in.
The good news is that according to the dream, I do have the key (it may even be in my car somewhere? Or is that too literal?). The car could be symbolic of travel, journey, male energy or power. Maybe I should look to one of the male characters in the script! There’s the father Ray, who sells pyramid power and goes on a drug bender, convinced his new invention the Ezekiel Spheroid is a time travel machine. Or there’s the boy crush Shawn, a Billy-Idol-wannabe who sings in a punk band called the Dead Babies. I got rid of the other boy Pete, who wasn’t really necessary to the story. And then there’s the real Billy Idol who appears to Molly the protagonist in her dream. Hmmm, I think I’m getting somewhere now.
I’m now going to try to put these ideas into the story. I think the key is finding and using male energy in my script. Thanks, unconscious mind! You rock.