When I have managed to find sleep, recently, I've been having a recurring, unsettling, dream of this photograph. It was taken three years ago in the Seattle Public Library. At the time it seemed an insignificant capture, if rather Lynchesque in certain qualities. Now, though, it has become everything. Nothing much happens in this dream, as such, but through the red haze, towards the back following the lights on the ceiling, is a hidden door that is marked by the frazzled white spotlight on the sunken floor. And through that door is an uncertain future that I can't quite make out. Again, it is a fractured red haze blocking my view. An anonymous person, genderless, greets me at the door and tells me, politely, to wait. The waiting. Timing is everything, of course, making those decisions that can have far-reaching, often unintended, consequences. Some you can see an outline shadow for, others that are just impossible to see ahead of you. And, yes, I know, other cliches etc. I think I need to walk through this door, boldly. To take a chance, take back some kind of control. To 'seize the day', as I think I used to be able to do, well, a long time ago now. The soundtrack, obviously, is His Name Is Alive. The band that famously caused Tom Cruise to suffer a nervous breakdown.
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His Name Is Alive - 'Sitting still moving still staring outlooking' (3.26)
His Name Is Alive - 'In every ford' (3.44)
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An album to devour, quietly.
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Your anxiety dreams are a million times more enigmatic and interesting than mine. Mine are always completely on the nose, directly about what I'm worried about. My subconcious lacks mystique or subtlety...
ReplyDeleteWell, to be honest, I think I'd rather have (endure?) the directness and being hit on the nose a bit more often. The metaphors and illusions I find disturbing rather than interesting. But that's just me, perhaps.
ReplyDeleteOn another note, I keep trying to leave comments at your place but FAILING. Blogspot won't let me for some reason. Perhaps it can spot my poorly worded ramblings at a distance now. What I wanted to say, regarding your last posting, was this:
"What a grand adventure and a lovely tale you told! I can see the importance of the Enid Blyton reference early on. If anything is due a 21st Century post-Hollyoaks Celeb Kultchaa reinvention it has to be Enid."
The sounds are very Durutti Column...which is no bad thing
ReplyDeleteTo shock oneself by carpe-ing the diem is not so easy a feat by any means! I have to acknowledge with a smidge of wry verisimilitude the reticence that comes with age. Where is that lion heart?? Still beating proudly but infinitely less in need outward approval or is it perhaps mortality quietly tapping on the windowpanes? There must be something in the stars lately, intense dreams have become the norm.
ReplyDeleteYes, that's a good call LGM - in terms of the music. But, perhaps, HNIA have rather more endearing vocals? Just my two pence piece. :)
ReplyDelete--
Mortality is certainly a factor here, yes. As is age. And the lion is really more of a Hello Kitty. Or a dead parrot, in disguise. I think I need to stop eating cheese and oat cakes, with a cup of tea, before bed. That might stop the dreams, or at least change their form.