I was trying to do some kind of small-scale stop-motion remake of Madonna's "Express Yourself" video using rubber bands and colored pencils. Finding it more frustrating to bunch together pencils than it should be, I handed the task off to someone else and went to watch the original video on the VCR again.
Note 
The Madonna video I played in the dream was a lot more racy than the one I remember from MTV:
...and besides significant pornographic aspects, the dream video was kind of eerie and morbid in other ways.
After refreshing my memory of the video, I began contemplating how I might use pencils and rubber bands to actualize the various characters and sets in the video. As I did this, the room seemed to react by actually making and animating the models for me--telekinetically! This kicked me into lucid inquiry of the environment.
The first thing I noticed was that there were many books and items of clothing around. I started picking up books and reading their titles. They were diverse, and one was a collection and history of portmanteus. My attention was most drawn to some books that were sealed up in plastic--volumes of research on mind control. I didn't open the books, but by reading the back cover I saw that it was a critical analysis which had deemed all the experiments to be failures.
Note
I had an internal debate while looking at these books whether to lock the door in order to minimize intervention and give me the maximum time to look at books, But the thought came to me that if I were doing some kind of physical possession of someone's body that might not be polite to lock them in a library closet.
A Japanese man who looked like a maintenance worker came by, and I patted him on the shoulder to ease any tension.
japanese man: "I have to hang this curtain, and it's too large to do by myself. Could you help me?"
me: "Oh, sure."
I climbed a ladder and while he gave me instructions, he said something about the name 'Pedro'. The curtain work was frustrating, the little clips kept breaking. A woman walked up to observe our work on the curtain from the ground.
woman: (distressed) "Oh, you're hanging it too quickly. I wish you spoke English!"
me: (jokingly) "I speak English, señora. Mucho good English!"
We tried to exchange names. She would say her name, and I would repeat it. Then she would say that was not how to pronounce it, and I'd try again. Eventually I got that her name was "Suelo".
suelo (to Japanese man) "What's happening is that right now, your deceased uncle Pedro--the artist--wants to speak to you. He is doing so using an intermediary, who is a brilliant artist in his own right."
Note
I took that to mean me! Of course, maybe it was Madonna.