Lately the dreams have been mental– this whole month, just mad. I think of the twenty twenty-one days passed thus far, I have recorded at least twelve dreams. Unheard of, but I did realize last February or March (whenever it was I decided to begin writing them down again) that the more regularly one keeps track of them, the better one gets at retaining the damned ephemeral things.
I have put a few up here recently (whether anyone likes it or not), but there are many more– and there are images in some of them that I find compelling. I think it’s my task to find a way of using the imagery– transmuting it somehow. (Unclear. Percolating, perhaps.) Fact is, my sleeping brain often has far more interesting notions tripping across its surface than my waking (organized, anxious, predictable) brain. Pretty sure that means it’s not only a task but a duty to give some of these images a way to see light, other than simply recording them for my own (unending) amusement.
Dreams seem to get thicker during the colder months, and this month has shown a number of symbols lamenting the exit of Summer– there’s nothing for it; I’m always saddened by the sun’s exit stage left.
(Or is it right?)
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 