Dreamed 1985/9/24 by Chris Wayan
TWO DAYS AGO
My sister Miriel was watching Linda Evans on Dynasty and said "She's considered one of the most beautiful women in America." Then she added, with great admiration: "Doesn't she look like a SHEEP?"
Well... no, not really. And is that a compliment? Weird. Why'd my sister say that?
I meet a ballet teacher, tall, slender, with a wide feline face. I follow her to an oval practice floor open to the sky. Barney Miller and his TV detectives are watching stonily from a high balcony, like Stalin reviewing his troops, but they seem peripheral. The teacher works with just one girl, 8-9 years old. She's a bit clunky. I start stretching myself. Unsure how, but imitate them. The teacher encourages me. I need that, since two so-called friends recently mocked and discouraged my attempts to learn ballet exercises. I wasn't perfect, you see!
We walk in a ring. I try to feel every motion, stay fluid and balanced. Question all my habitual patterns, which feel chunky and wooden, designed to HIDE not express my feelings. The teacher not only encourages me, she starts paying as much attention to me as to her tutu'd tutee, too. (Sorry. At least there wasn't a little dog from Kansas.)
But how can she tell WHAT I'm doing? I'm feeling my way, not seeing: we're all neck deep in snow! Warm, light, powdery snow, rather pleasant in fact... but it muffles every move.
But she says I move well for a beginner; she may offer me a slot in her troupe. I'm unsure I want to be a ballet dancer but I'm flattered. And attracted to her. She's remarkable, in her short curly white fur, blending into her pale mop of hair with big eyes peering through bangs like a sheepdog's. Or a sheep's.
She seems attracted to me, too. We kiss tenderly...
But later, I learn from a news article that I was sent back in time somehow: she taught ballet around 1917! I have some shamanic powers, and I CAN time-travel on my own, but not back before my own birth, not yet. I can restore living people to their prime, too, but she's long dead by now. I'll never see my sheepish love again...
I feel puzzled and disappointed. All these time-tricks! What's the point?
THE NEXT EVENING
I watch Dynasty. Linda Evans comes on. She looks like the ballet teacher in my dream, and she's wearing a top of short white fur, as in the dream. Her husband justifies a slimy scheme by saying "You're either a wolf or a sheep in this world!"
And Linda looks him in the eye and say "Well, then, I am a SHEEP!"
She walks out on him, and joins her husband's rival! They kiss as tenderly as a dream...
Time-tricks indeed. Do I feel sheepish!
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