Last night’s Richard Armitage dream

I knew this had to be coming after last week, and then frencharmitagearmy posted about her Armitage dream, which probably finally pushed it out.

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Two and a half basic scenes in the dream. Not much detail because I forgot to write them down when I woke up.

Scene 1.

I’m watching a theater rehearsal, in a London theater I can’t identify (I don’t see any of it except the stage), with my mother seated next to me. A play is being rehearsed that stars Richard Armitage costumed as Thorin, doing a sword-fighting scene but reciting some dialogue that I believe, in the dream, to come from Shakespeare’s Richard III. (When I’m dreaming I feel like the words are incredibly insightful, but I don’t remember now what was being said and a quick look at the text of the play as I’m writing this hasn’t thrown up anything recognizable.) The rehearsal goes on for a while, and I’m not bored, but eventually they take a break. My mother urges me to go up to the stage. I don’t want to go but she drags me up there. The actors are still all there, talking with each other about the play, and my mother and I wander among them, listening to the conversations. We don’t seem to affect them and they don’t seem to notice us. My mother wants to take pictures of the actors, but I say no. She takes them anyway. Eventually we decide to sit back down in the front row. My high school piano teacher walks out onto the stage, except she’s unusually thin and wearing a mauve suit. She tells Armitage / Thorin that he needs to have a singing lesson. She starts conducting him through the singing lesson. She has a beautiful voice. I don’t recognize the song in the dream, and I can’t hear him singing.

Scene 2.

Cut to me leaving the theater, alone. I arrive at a house in London — one of those historic buildings that have been cut into pieces for apartments. This looks like art nouveau, early twentieth century. (Thinking about it now, the outside setting — not the inside, though — looks an awful lot like the apartment I rented in Berlin in 2006-7, but the setting is definitely English). Lots of dark wood and ornamentation everywhere. I walk into the building and stop at a locked box inside to pick up my mail. I see a woman, who I don’t know, who says, “We haven’t seen you in almost eight years” but doesn’t remark further on my presence. I walk up three floors and then unlock a heavy wooden door.

Inside, the apartment is full of furniture and boxes that are pushed to the corners and sides of the rooms, but nothing’s dusty in any way. I go to the back of the main room and move away a bunch of boxes in front of something that looks like a screen. I unfold the screen and it’s covered with what I think in the dream is a stunningly beautiful piece of pre-Raphaelite art (in real life, I’m neutral to mildly positive about this stuff, but in the dream, I’m really moved). I look at it for awhile.

Scene 2.5

Cut to me, in the main room of the apartment, with the screen now visible. I am interviewing a gay male couple, Londoners apparently, about subletting the apartment. They only want it with all the boxes and furniture. I say I can’t do that. They ask me why I don’t just sell it. There’s a housing shortage and they need a place to live with their son.

Dream ends.

~ by Servetus on March 13, 2013.