Primarily a writing exercise, this dream journal-inspired blog is a quiet introspective sojourn into the process that we traverse in going from private dream to public art. I see our dreaming as an internalized mythmaking. As I philosophize and expressively exhibit dreams, both private and public, I encourage and delight in creative language as a way to practice experiential metaphors through a “public dreaming." Writing Theory: Creative Dream Fiction

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Storm of Electric Eels Compels us Inward

Rock Arch West of Eretat (The Manneport) by Claude Monet

On the Mattapoisett bay rocky shore line, looking out over a concrete runoff, with my Dad and cousins from New York, we are observing electric eels in the water, as a breathtakingly immense storm washes over our feet and stings our eyes, the sky is dark with the most heavy cloud cover I’ve ever seen, and suddenly a plane dips through the sky and crashes careening in smoke as black and thick as the clouds above, and the sea begins to swirl and swarm with fantastic waves that rise above our normal conceptions of the ocean’s storm-driven madness, and we recede further away from shore, a spell of doom cast in the lowered sky

September 4, 2011

1 comment:

  1. Once again, in Massachusetts, I was swimming and found myself right next to a gigantic torpedo ray. It was coming to the shore perhaps to die. I looked up the picture in a book.

    A friend of mine took a picture of John F. Kennedy Jr.'s suitcase on a beach in Martha's Vineyard after his plane went down.

    My father from New York painted a giant oil painting of waves crashing, but re-painted it, in a drunken frenzy, after he moved us to the coast--the real ruined the prior conception.