Weirder than Dreams is Truth

Although this is not about productions, it is related in some way to my artistic career. I had a dream, and it involved theater.

This is the first dream I've had in weeks. I was at a play with a man playing a nun. I'm not sure if I was an audience member or a cast member, but part of their set was a bunch of beds spread out across the floor of a great hall with a balcony. I made an honest mistake by coming to lie down at his/her feet facing him upwards with my feet interfering with the nun outfit. I realized I was in the wrong place to watch and it caused others lining the wall of the set to laugh at where I sat down to watch. I moved. After the play was over one of the directors asked me what I was thinking. I tried to say it had been an honest mistake but she told me I knew better. A costume looking director treated me as if I was 2 years old, asking me with rhetorical questions if I even knew how bad it was for a nun, for her special class, to have me do something like that, as if I didn't know. I wanted to scream, but it's just a play. He's pretending to be a nun! I felt frustrated and angry and started for the exit when a couple more directors demanded I stop and come back. I asked flippantly if they were going to further insult me, they responded "no, we're here to punish one of our priesthood brethren. The man and woman looked filipino/asian and filipina/latina and the man went on to explain at length how he was going to punch my face up and down and left and right and then he got out a big metal bat from behind himself and asked me to hold up my fists so he could hit them lightly. I did, he hit them lightly. I felt humiliated, and hot/ feverish and woke up then. The time was 6:15 Monday morning. It felt a whole lot earlier than that.

So, clairvoyant blog readers, what on earth does this mean? Is this a not so subtle hint I need to curb my pride and anger? It this a rebuttal of my assertion that my school, BYU, is a group of 21st century students stuck with 1950's professors who are unaware of the real world outside their happy valley bubble, or a confirmation of it? Am I just projecting my fears and anxieties of persecution and rejection onto the very people (the theater people) that I love and feel part of? Or am I just reading things into it that ain't even there?

In better news, I did more filming for Project Orange yesterday and loved it. All my frustration and depression had a use after all in forming the characters reactions. It was also the first time in three or four years I've used a car, and I didn't hit anything. That makes me feel better. "The Notes", which is the big project I am participating in is raising money, I'll post links as I find them. Good luck and good day, blog readers!