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

Friday, 13 April 2012

In Our Colors and Dreams We Are All Daughters of the Sun


"How did you learn to weave so well?"


"I've been sitting behind the loom since I was a kid. My mom is a good weave. She weaves rugs, you see in a dream."


"I don't dream of rugs. I had a dream about you a few nights ago. You were flying with a lot of birds. I shouted, "come down." But you didn't pay attention. Suddenly, I was as on top of a hill. There was a wedding down there. It was a beautiful wedding. I ran towards the bride and groom. Then I saw you. You were sitting under a tree. There were birds all around you. I ran towards you. Then I just woke up."

- from "Daughters of the Sun" an Iranian film by Maryam Shahriar

A few friends and I cut through the wild coastal thicket. We are scrappy ruffians and troublemakers, lifting the unmarked passageway with careless abandon through brier patch and horizontal woodland vines. A walk through the forest such as this spells mischief. We come to a house and trespass eagerly. After entering the house and snooping about, the residents return home. It is a Chinese family, home from a dinner in well-dressed attire. We scram and they barely notice without taking much heed to our presence. My friends turn back afraid of any more close calls. I wander off, aimless into the unending chaotic web of brush. 

Years later, I exit a farmer’s market with a girlfriend. Our friend, an East Indian man picks us up in an SUV. As we drive along, he manages to pick up another friend, East Indian as well. Getting seated in the car, he passes snacks through the car and then makes an incredibly demeaning, however unintentional comment towards the girl in the car. We are all stricken with disappointment, as he quickly corrects himself. After an uncomfortable silence, he is let off out from the car earlier than expected. On the side of the highway, he stares at me bitterly and says, “When you look in its eye, ask yourself, do you see a snake?” 

The last image of the dream, in a split second, a painting appears, gold painted with foam matting, a white stripe cuts vertically and pushes across horizontally at about the middle of the painting, on the other side of the stripe is a deep, patchy red, each with a bright yellow capsule shape embedded into the color plates. 
"Dreaming of a forest signifies a feeling of being lost or confused. You are having difficulty finding a solution for a situation or problem and do not know how to conquer it." 

"A powerful dream symbol associated with feminine energy, healing and spirituality...In the long run the snake may be a positive symbol, it may represent difficulties that lead us to the center of personality and result in feelings of completeness." 

and no more 
in the walk 
to ultimate freedom 
pleasant as her dream 
the wall 
to no more, 
no more 
destind failure or washd up foolish hunger

“and where was our lost flesh sent to? 
to what mind do we owe the greatest thanks and hate”

- excerpt from "complete erase."

1 comment:

  1. "and where was our lost flesh sent to?" - the question of every dream...