Meditations and dreams

Yesterday I finally got around to buying a yoga mat. And then I went to work on redecorating my room (sounds more grown-up than "tidying"), so that I can find the floor space to roll out said mat, to - and here's a radical thought - actually use it! There's no way I'm doing yoga in the living room in front of my parents who are desperately trying to see past my butt (not caring the least bit about my "downward-facing dog") to the television screen. Um, where am I going with this again?
Anyway, I wasn't finish tidy... - oops, redecorating yet at bedtime, because I was too exhausted from a hard week at work. So no yoga. Instead, I meditated. It's been a while and it's hard to concentrate when I can hear the TV still on in the next room. But still, it's better than nothing.
So, here's getting to the point: I'd forgotten what happens to me when I meditate before going to bed. I dream weird stuff. Weird stuff that seem really real, and that stay with me even as I can feel myself waking up.
Last night I dreamed I was looking through an art book. I found a gorgeous series of what I thought were drawings but turned out to be paintings. In the top right corner of the page was written Altman, which was the surname of the artist. I was transfixed with the images of horses and beautiful parks. I was just about to check the painter's first name when I felt I was about to wake up. I scanned the pages in a mad rush for the name, and found it, along with some piece of information about Paris that I didn't quite get - just as I felt the bed underneath me and knew I was awake. I tried to repeat the name over and over in my head until I was able to write it down - but too late. The first name had eluded me, but I still remembered Altman. First thing I did when I got out of bed was switch on my computer to google it.
With just a surname, that's difficult. But suddenly I saw the name "Harold Altman (1924- 2003)" somewhere on the google page, and my heart skipped a beat as I recognized it. So I googled Harold Altman, clicked "picture search", and - there they were! At first I only recognized the style, but as I started clicking on a few links, I even found exactly the paintings from the book:

And I even found a connection to Paris, as he was a student there at one point and used to live there every once in a while after. I don't think I'll meditate again for a few days. It fascinates me, but always scares me a bit as well when these things happen... Oh, and I just realized I should have written all of this in my dream blog, but it's too late now.

Curiouser and curiouser

I seriously regret reading American Psycho last year (or whenever it was). Last night I had another nightmare about a woman being tortured to death.
But the strangest part was how I woke up. I could've sworn someone grabbed my leg and shook it gently to wake me up, so carefully that at first I didn't bother opening my eyes because I was so sure I'd been screaming in my sleep and it was my Mom who'd come into the room to wake me up. But when I finally did open my eyes, still aware of the warmth of the hand shaking me awake, there was no one there!

On a totally different note, I really gotta pee! But my sister's taking a bath, and we only have one bathroom. Grr...

*cough*

Angie! I wish you hadn't told me that if your brother wasn't engaged he'd probably chase after me... Last night - while trying to sleep in spite of an incredibly sore throat, because I've gotten a respiratory tract infection again now, lucky me! - I had a dream... in which he... well... wasn't engaged. I don't remember much of it though. I think I can be happy about that, lol!

I mean, he's your brother!! That makes it practically incestuous!!!