Spock Misses The Point

Last night I dreamt I was commissioned to do a sculpture at a beach.  It was to be a recreation of a murder, which also happened at the beach.  So for research I went to watch a movie at the cinema that was about the murder.  Then I went to see a kind of memorial at the site of the murder.  It even had a plaque in front of it describing what had happened.  It was a sculpture of the murder victim, modeled in sand, lying as she was found.

I then strolled over to another area of the beach, where a live model helped me determine which pose I wanted.  I got her to try different poses, on a picnic table, on the bench, in different angles.  No.  I ended up with the original pose which she was found in, just like the memorial.  Except I ended up making my sand sculpture under a picnic table.  She was found under a table when she died, so I thought it would be extra poignant to make the sculpture there.  The visitors would have to get under the table and be forced to take a closer look at the sand victim, adding to the whole claustrophobic feeling.

The odd thing was that the model I used to try different poses was the actual murder victim herself.  I know it doesn’t make sense, but she was my model.  After I made the sculpture, she was gone, and a group of friends who were watching me make the sculpture wanted to see the movie about the murder.  Even though I’ve seen it already, I thought I’d go with them, though half heartedly.  On the way to the cinema, I crossed path with a man who caught my eyes.  We made eye contact as he looked directly at me with intent.  Right at that moment I knew he was the killer.  We walked pass each other, and I felt a slight chill inside me but I said nothing.  I waved at my friends to catch up with them, and that’s when I woke up.

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