The Broken Toymaker

I don't usually blog about dreams, but this image from one I had last night is just too enchanting not to record somewhere. The Broken Toymaker was part of a theme park that had what they called the Mountain of Snow. It was a small mountain one climbed and followed paths or wandered through tunnels to find either a slide exit or any other way of getting off. While wandering over this Mountain of Snow I found a fellow lting on the side of the path. He started out as an automaton but morphed, as things do in dreams, into a live person after a short time. I would say he looked rather like a cross between the two Willie Winkas but without quite the personality of either one, but he had the hat, the coat, a scarf and the generally Victorian look about him.

He lay bent and folded like he was broken. The idea was to fix him, basically by unfolding him and making him stand like a person. Jim and I did this, and as we did I straightened out his scarf. It apparently warmed him up, for as I straighted the scarf he said "59 degrees!" and then "79 degrees!" When he was fully standing he was able to move about. This is when he seemed human. He was smiling and happy and danced a little jig. He took us to the toyshop and made Jim climb a winding staircase up to an attic full of toys. The Broken Toymaker showed me something that looked like twisted wrought iron and said, "I can't give you this, because if I did I would also have to give you this." He showed me another length of twisted wrought iron. He and I left when Jim got down the bicycle the Broken Toymaker told him to.

Next I knew Jimm dressed as a panda, was bringing down the bicycle to cheers from many around us. I excitedly told a couple other people that if they had a chance to straighten out the Broken Toymaker they should, because it was wonderfully fun. I was watching my little sister, 7 or 8 in the dream, in her late 40s in reality, being made up elaborately as a princes. I looked over and noticed that a fellow I had told to go find the Broken Toymaker was over by him. The toymaker was on the ground, in the snow again, and the man was lying on the ground next to him trying to unbend his limbs.

I know precisely why I had this dream. Jim and I took a friend out to lunch yesterday who used to be a man and is becoming Joan, a quite lovely woman. She could be a female version of the Broken Toymaker in her build. She is doing the straightening out on her own. Jim and I were both fascinated and impressed by her story about the transformation. Even the makeover as a princess ties in here, because part of our conversation was about what it means to be female socially and in the world. It makes perfect sense to me that once our friend, the Broken Toymaker, was whole again, she would give us some sort of gift, perhaps one that will help us transprt ourselves in some magical way.

I must insert here that since I first began writing fiction, my dreams are much more creative and insightful.

Joan, Jim and Nan