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Dark glossy body-paint and a wayward backpacker

Night of October 21, 2013. Monday.

There are two sections of my dream that seem directly connected, yet are also highly incongruous from one event to the next - and the level of vividness and awareness changes to near-lucidity. Firstly, there seems to be a large, valuable, mostly green frog statue (part of an old water fountain?) of about half the size of a person and in an upright position. I believe it is near the kitchen entrance on a chest-of-drawers. Somehow it falls over (my fault? unsure) and is lying on the floor. I first think it is undamaged, but notice more and more sections, as I lift it up from having been face-down on the floor, where a larger, thinner piece was chipped off, each of which I pick up and align back on the statue (having turned it over on its back). The areas from where the pieces were chipped off are white and somewhat powdery, similar to how certain cheap, already damaged knickknacks look in bargain retail stores. However, if I set the statue upright again, the pieces, although all aligned, would likely not stay on, so I think of using some sort of glue that I see nearby, the container about the size of a milk bottle…

Scene shift to…the bottle of “glue” turns out to be body-paint. I am part of a scenario that seems to be when my wife and I were much younger, possibly a few years before we met, although we are both at my sister’s house in Wisconsin. Her unearthly beauty radiates as she uses the paint to cover her face and entire body in a “poetic” ritual-like way. The paint shines on her in a glossy bluish-black as she walks around (unclothed) in various rooms, but primarily the kitchen. There is also the awareness that it is actually the future, where it is a trend (especially with older teenagers) to use body-paint at social venues, including this shiny black, purple, and an unusual sort of very dark coppery tone. She is almost like a tulpa template, but without the glow from the inside going out, rather a silvery sheen on the outside of her skin at times.

In the next scene, I am on the porch - but it is not clear what porch this was - as it almost seems like the one of someone I knew years ago - but could also be at the same (sister’s) house as the previous events. It also feels like our last address somewhat. Using logic, it mostly seems like a composite of our last home’s porch and a sister’s due to the (unknown) man in my dream walking from around the right side, outside, which would have been our driveway in real life, or, relating to my sister’s house, a sidewalk going to the upstairs entrance at the side.

The young blonde man of about twenty seems to be a backpacker, possibly from the Netherlands (this is possibly an altered replay of a real-life event when, thanks to a sign the council put up on our fence prior to our moving, various people thought the house was vacant - even throwing rocks at the windows - the police, as usual, showing a cheerful total disinterest - and a pair of Netherlands backpackers were even planning on climbing over the fence and trying to find a way in). I think he is walking to the front of the house due to the other person not being home (which would seem to be an unknown person or persons living upstairs - the “upstairs” only existing at my sister’s house and not ours in Australia - even though it feels a little more like our last address in this part of my dream). He stops just outside the front door of the porch, but is able to reach through the porch windows (in real life, we had jalousie windows around the porch and this would have been very difficult, and impossible with the large cardboard box he had).

I am caught up in a role of mistaken identification but showing total patience (recurring). He hands me a large cardboard box which he received in the mail, saying that the diorama had been “revoked” for some reason as if I am supposed to easily solve his problem somehow. I have no idea what the issue is, but play along. I am not sure if I am supposed to give him his money back, replace it with a different one, or just take it and perhaps give it to someone else. I am also not sure of why it was “revoked”. Perhaps it is not an authentic model or something, or not an authentic portrayal, historically. Perhaps he even entered it in a contest and was blackballed from entering anymore contests. When he hands me the box, he moves his hand away from under one corner, and, not knowing a flap was missing at the bottom, I take the box and some of the contents fall all over the floor through the bottom - this being several miniature soldiers and some other items. Looking down into the box, I see that about fifty percent of the diorama is glued into place, including other toy soldiers still in position.

I apologize to him and pick up all the small pieces and figures (of which there are at least ten or so) to put them back onto the platform of the model, which is a battle scene (a “skirmish”) with a few tanks and soldiers and other features. My mistaken role causes no concern or anger on my part. I look closely at the platform of the model and see what looks like a very small order form or record table with the word “Google” on it, as well as the word “revoked” appearing a few times in red. I am still not sure what the whole thing means even as I wake - and just as I wake, I feel a bit sad at not being able to resolve his issue (recurring) even though I was not the person he was looking for - and even knowing it was a dream.

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