Saturday, January 26, 2013

Dreamscape

“Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.”
- James Dean

week 04 card

I don’t often remember my dreams much longer than maybe a day after waking. If I tell someone about it I can hold onto the images a bit longer, but that doesn’t happen often – with one interesting exception. There’s a dream that I had when I was eight years old that I still remember quite vividly (twenty-four years later). It was a bit of a nightmare at the time, though I’m not clear on the difference between dream and nightmare. Some dreams can be scary; when do they cross the line?

In this particular dream, my mom and  brother were in a car without me. I don't remember the car, or a lot of the specific details. They left our apartment (I believe they were called “Cheney Gardens Apartments” – something with garden in it) and drove down the hill to the stop sign. There was a McDonalds on the left, and Anderberg Chevrolet on the right (this was back in early 1989, I'm not sure what currently resides there). From here you could go left or right onto First Street, which ran through town, State Route 904.

Just as they turned, the car was hit. My mom got out and was bleeding, my brother (for some reason) was in the trunk (it was a dream, weird stuff happens). He climbed out and was also bleeding. They had cuts all over. I went running down the hill to them and all of a sudden we were back at our apartment and an Avon lady was trying to sell me makeup out of her car. No idea where that came from, but again, it was a dream. And I was eight. I remember she was definitely selling Avon though.

Now, I don’t subscribe to dream theory; I believe that our minds are vast, largely unused masses of information and power. Our subconscious continues to work and process while we sleep. It also combines and reconstitutes and takes artistic liberty with anything and everything we’ve ever experienced.

Another way to look at dreams, and the direction that I took with my page, is in the way of having goals, or hopes, for the future. More on that tomorrow. For tonight, you may consider keeping a “dream journal” to see what kinds of madness rises from the depths of your mind. Would make some great art journal pages!

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