I obsessively put together a series of drawings, tracing the life of a woman from childhood to perhaps her death. I'm not sure who she is meant to be in the dream - perhaps an ex-girlfriend. But those I show the work to are not convinced of either the work or my reasons for doing it. Strangely I compile a selection of some of the better pieces and send them to the grieving family. I get no response. When I tell a couple of my friends (Terry and Ralph) they find it embarrassing. Later in the dream I'm at what is meant to be the college where Terry teaches, but it is different: larger, industrial bare concrete structure with very high ceilings, maze-like and dirty. I find him bracing what looks like a keyboard stand into the narrow vertical space in an alcove in a wall, somewhere tucked away behind a stairwell. Above it are several other metal objects piled on top of each other including bikes, some of it held with wires. It's a mess. Terry uses this stand in teaching as a prop or something. I then travel into town in some kind of wheelchair. It goes very fast. I'm in a large crowd of commuters, pulling myself along on railings. Most of the commuters are going the other way (out of town) but I'm in a solid stream of people going against the flow, like a boat cutting through waves. I notice Terry's dad coming by with the main mass of commuters, wearing dark glasses.