Friday, November 12, 2010

Airship UFOs and Dreams

Recent posts at the C Influence about air ships reminded me of some of my own experiences in my personal UFO journey.

I have a lot of recurring dream landscapes and imagery; shifting, ever changing sets, like the production stages in movie making, or sets on stage of a theater. One of the constant images and sets has to do with UFOs. It's a specific image, always the same, and it always occurs in the same place. That place is in front of the house I grew up in in Los Angeles. The time is always the same as well; night.

I've had this dream for as long as I can remember; just popping up now and then in my subconscious, even up to the present. And while it's a dream, and remembered as a dream, there's the other thing: memories of an actual, literal event. Not remembered as a dream, but as really happening.

My Invisible Friends: Floating Out the Door
The real event I've discussed many times on-line and on podcasts. (You can hear more about this on the podcast Jim and I did with Bill and Nancy Birnes on Future Theater.) Briefly; I'd wait in my bed, flat on my back, for "them." They were invisible, kind of sort of, but small, happy spindly things. My "friends." I had to be still, on my back, at night in the dark, the bed, and focus on the yellow beam of light under the bedroom door. Then they'd come, and float me out through the door, down the little hall, out that door to the living room, and out the front door to the big tree on the corner. The big tree was a huge fir tree on our neighbor's property, and I'd have to wait up in that tree for the ship to come.

The Dream
My dream begins with me either out on the sidewalk, or in the tree. The sheer exhilaration of looking up at that rich Prussian blue sky, and the dusty sparkling stars, which are so close, is almost too much for me to stand. The anticipation, waiting for "them," is exciting and pleasant.

Soon the ship comes. The description sounds downright silly, but it's what I've seen many times. In the dream, the ship makes me happy. Sometimes a little sad. Not sure why it's a little sad, maybe because it's, they, are going away, and I'm not.

My ship was like a basket, with an inverted bathtub over it, a domed type covering, yet the thing was open. Sometimes the bottom part was made of planks of wood, like a wooden fruit crate, but still had the bathtub type covering. The beings in it were small, but adults, and human looking enough . . . almost. While human like in many ways, they weren't quite human. Not exactly.
As I said, silly. Steam punk, old fashioned, and reminiscent of air ships. As I say, I've had both the memories and the dreams, forever.

No comments: