1. I was doing a performance with a band. The last song of the set required a backing track, but the backing track didn’t just contain sounds that the band couldn’t do, it contained drums, bass, vocals, stage banter, and audience applause. The only thing it didn’t have was the rhythm guitar, which I attempted to play, but it was the first time I had heard the song in years, so I didn’t do it perfectly. The song at points sounded like YYZ by Rush.
2. After the performance, I was selling my new album, “Sweet Edith Manton.” One guy from the audience expressed particular interest in the album, so I went to my merchandise area to get one for him, but there weren’t any there. So I went out to my car to get one, but it took me forever to find one. By the time I came back, he was gone. However, a former co-worker happened to have materialized there and bought one instead. The performance had taken place in what appeared to be a run-down community center, or perhaps an Eagle’s Lodge, or something like it.
3. I stayed in a rich man’s house. He had something special to show me. A package had arrived in the mail, addressed to him, and it was sitting in his den. It was about 9 feet tall, and just as wide and deep. Once he removed the cardboard covering, it was revealed to be a giant glass hexagonal prism, with the hexagonal faces on the top and bottom. It was divided into two main compartments: the top one about 7 feet tall, and the bottom one about 2 feet tall. First, he showed us the bottom compartment. The bottom compartment itself was divided into a half dozen smaller compartments, each completely filled with dead, winged insects. Each compartment had different species. Some were bees, others flies, others wasps. They weren’t all dead, actually. A few flies had survived the journey and were still flying around. The man opened up a door on the front of the insect section of the glass hexagonal prism, to show me up close his new insect collection, but I stayed back and admired from the other side of the room. I was not very interested in getting close to the dead insects. Once that was over, we moved our attention to the top compartment, which was much more interesting. In it was a young man in a chair. He was alive, and seemed perfectly healthy and happy. This was his studio apartment. But instead of the normal things that people keep in their apartments, like sinks and toilets and beds, he only had this chair. But the legs of his chair were resting on the green grass of a river bank. And the river “ran” from one side of the glass prism to the other. It was a tiny river, for the other river bank was at the opposite edge of the room. Around him were trees, presumably the edge of a forest. Also there were a few bushes and rocks and various other things that make up that sort of nature scene. I didn’t get the impression that the rich man owned the man in the glass prism. In fact, I had the feeling (and in the case of this dream, any feeling is the truth) that the man in the prism was himself very rich, and he spent a lot of money creating this biodome for himself. I assumed the rich man who owned the house paid the man in the prism to put himself on display and they were both benefiting from the deal.