Monday, February 27, 2012
:(
I set out with so much enthusiasm, but everything fell apart due to the sudden passing of my father last week. I haven't been sleeping well and my dreams are certainly indescribable at this point. I will endeavour to return to this blog in due course. It may even take on a new meaning for me.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Dreams 002 & 003 - flying, trademarked characters, a closet
I woke up in the middle of the night and was disappointed that I hadn't had any dreams. I thought to myself that this blog (or glorified dream diary) is going to put me under a lot of stress if I maintain this pattern. Yeah, right!
When I got back to sleep I made up for any shortfall of dreams in the first half of my slumber session.
*my first dream*
I was flying on a clear, warm day over what looked to be suburban homes. They were of the large cookie cutter style. Interesting part was that I was wearing large headphones that were playing the Superman theme song. It played in full as I took to the sky for an afternoon flight. It didn't take me long to realize that the music gave me the power of flight. As much as I loved dive bombing people in the park, I could hear the music ending and I had to land or risk falling from the sky. I landed in a park where some older women were working on knitting or a quilt or something. Anyway, they greeted me as I landed and that was it.
*end of first dream*
*my second dream*
I was sleeping in an unfamiliar room. I woke up to screaming and crying in the distance. As I was waking up, my eyes were adjusting to shadows in the room. My eyes caught a glimpse of a boy's shadow and I quickly looked away. Perfect, I thought. Ghosts!!!
I wasn't afraid, but just not wanting to deal with their hauntings right now. I was more concerned with the screaming elsewhere. So I ignored the little ghost boy and headed out in search of the commotion.
I arrived to the basement in my parents' house. My parents, brother, and sisters were there in a complete panic. Strangely, my grandfather who passed about 3 years ago was also there in a panicked state. My brother was standing in front of him, acting extremely protective. When I arrived, my mother was explaining their worry. She needed to put things away in the closet under the stairs, but she was afraid because the closet was the home to something scary. Slimer!
Yup, that's right. Slimer from Ghostbusters. Really Mom??!! They were all terrified of being slimed. My grandfather had an especially terrified look. My sisters had already passed out from fear. I just looked at them all like they were crazy.
I'm not sure if in the dream I didn't believe them or if I just wasn't afraid. There was merit to both arguments. I was fully aware that this ghost that they feared was from a movie. I was also not scared of the creepy ghost boy when I woke up, so you can see how it could go either way...
I opened the closet door and started following my mom's instructions for what she wanted done in there. All I remember is tons of things that were wool and plaid, so probably a lot of clothing. Slimer never appeared, but my family was still freaking out. I told them to leave if they were too scared to stay. Some did. I remember that my parents stayed but I don't remember who else.
*end of second dream*
When I got back to sleep I made up for any shortfall of dreams in the first half of my slumber session.
*my first dream*
I was flying on a clear, warm day over what looked to be suburban homes. They were of the large cookie cutter style. Interesting part was that I was wearing large headphones that were playing the Superman theme song. It played in full as I took to the sky for an afternoon flight. It didn't take me long to realize that the music gave me the power of flight. As much as I loved dive bombing people in the park, I could hear the music ending and I had to land or risk falling from the sky. I landed in a park where some older women were working on knitting or a quilt or something. Anyway, they greeted me as I landed and that was it.
*end of first dream*
*my second dream*
I was sleeping in an unfamiliar room. I woke up to screaming and crying in the distance. As I was waking up, my eyes were adjusting to shadows in the room. My eyes caught a glimpse of a boy's shadow and I quickly looked away. Perfect, I thought. Ghosts!!!
I wasn't afraid, but just not wanting to deal with their hauntings right now. I was more concerned with the screaming elsewhere. So I ignored the little ghost boy and headed out in search of the commotion.
I arrived to the basement in my parents' house. My parents, brother, and sisters were there in a complete panic. Strangely, my grandfather who passed about 3 years ago was also there in a panicked state. My brother was standing in front of him, acting extremely protective. When I arrived, my mother was explaining their worry. She needed to put things away in the closet under the stairs, but she was afraid because the closet was the home to something scary. Slimer!
Yup, that's right. Slimer from Ghostbusters. Really Mom??!! They were all terrified of being slimed. My grandfather had an especially terrified look. My sisters had already passed out from fear. I just looked at them all like they were crazy.
I'm not sure if in the dream I didn't believe them or if I just wasn't afraid. There was merit to both arguments. I was fully aware that this ghost that they feared was from a movie. I was also not scared of the creepy ghost boy when I woke up, so you can see how it could go either way...
I opened the closet door and started following my mom's instructions for what she wanted done in there. All I remember is tons of things that were wool and plaid, so probably a lot of clothing. Slimer never appeared, but my family was still freaking out. I told them to leave if they were too scared to stay. Some did. I remember that my parents stayed but I don't remember who else.
*end of second dream*
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Dream 001 - a death, a labyrinth, a meeting
I'm thrilled that the first dream that I'm recounting is on the disturbing side. For the record, I've never had a nightmare. I've never had a dream that terrified me to the point of waking up. I'd say that in the majority of my dreams, I have some awareness that I'm dreaming and it seems that the more unusual the dream is, the more aware of the dream state I become. I can recall countless times when in a dream I would think to myself that this was impossible and I must be dreaming. Surprisingly, this revelation usually doesn't wake me up. It gives me power and from there, I'm unstoppable.
*My dream*
My dream started as a documentary film. It was recounting the events leading up to the disappearance and discovery of the body of a female Simon Fraser University student. The first part of the dream was showing the "audience" footage from a TV special that had been filmed in a Simon Fraser auditorium. The concept was a 4-member Canadian band was reuniting and they wanted to converse with their fans. Three members set up a performance stage, while the fourth member of the band set up a podium to provide university-style lectures. I don't remember the name of the band, but the man who wanted to participate at the podium had vibes of Ozzy Osbourne (it wasn't him though).
The TV special packed the auditorium with SFU students. It became a real lively event, as the footage showed, but the narrator was giving the "audience" clues about what may have been happening in the background. Little comments like the show hadn't been timed properly and not all the production crew were familiar with the entire format. Furthermore, two shows were planned to feed into the TV special, but due to the overwhelming audience participation, they made the snap decision to merge both shows into one and use all the footage from the one longer version in the rebroadcast (so the narrator explained).
The narrator challenged the "audience": "Did you catch on to what happened? Can you see how this turned into a tragedy for one unlucky student?" Of course, the answer is no, so then a "never before seen piece of archival footage" is presented. The special event is over and most people have exited the auditorium. We're now at the back of the room. We see a young male student asking a member of the production team if he had seen his girlfriend. The student reveals that he received a text from his girlfriend saying that she had the seats already. Then he received another one 10 minutes later saying that he would need to sit by himself; that she had been selected for a special "audience participation" gag and she would see him after the show.
Only, there was no gag, the narrator revealed. What went wrong?
The documentary cuts to the search efforts that everyone undertook in the days following the TV special filming. Strangely, the search efforts uncovered a Labyrinth-style subbasement at a local radio station. It was not related to the disappearance, but I remember how much brown, earthy dust had accumulated on the desks and office equipment that had long been discarded and then forgotten by the radio station staff. Strangely, there were also two men dressed like they belonged in the Old West, presumably because of the dusty desert like conditions.
The dream finally returns to the revelation of the true factors leading up to the SFU student's death. She had been selected to participate, but due to the miscommunication within the production team, only the man who selected her was aware of it. Now, he was also drinking heavily while on the job and when the show got completely off track, he completely forgot about the gag he'd rigged up.
At some point in the show, it had been planned to lower the student who was waiting in a wooden crate that was strung up in the rafters to the floor and allow the band to open up their greatest gift - symbolically their fans. Only this never happened and the student was forgotten. She stayed in that crate for three days, hungry and alone. She knew she was dangling over certain death but knew that she had no other choice but to try and escape from the crate and scale her way back to solid ground. She never made it.
Her broken, frail body was found in the centre of the stage several days after the TV special. It took a while for investigators to piece together the true nature of the events, but they finally figured it out and the documentary was made. The crew member denied any negligence in the stunt gone wrong, but it was clear he was to blame.
At this point, the dream switches to a first person perspective. I have joined a group of students and adults for a multi-discipline arts discussion. (Two people I knew, the others were strangers.) There were about a dozen of us sitting around a meeting table and the discussion turned to the topic of this SFU student who tragically lost her life. We decided to hold an awareness benefit/memorial. The dream never progressed as far as the memorial itself.
*end of dream*
So make of it what you will. Even when my world turns dark and disturbing, it still fascinates me.
*My dream*
My dream started as a documentary film. It was recounting the events leading up to the disappearance and discovery of the body of a female Simon Fraser University student. The first part of the dream was showing the "audience" footage from a TV special that had been filmed in a Simon Fraser auditorium. The concept was a 4-member Canadian band was reuniting and they wanted to converse with their fans. Three members set up a performance stage, while the fourth member of the band set up a podium to provide university-style lectures. I don't remember the name of the band, but the man who wanted to participate at the podium had vibes of Ozzy Osbourne (it wasn't him though).
The TV special packed the auditorium with SFU students. It became a real lively event, as the footage showed, but the narrator was giving the "audience" clues about what may have been happening in the background. Little comments like the show hadn't been timed properly and not all the production crew were familiar with the entire format. Furthermore, two shows were planned to feed into the TV special, but due to the overwhelming audience participation, they made the snap decision to merge both shows into one and use all the footage from the one longer version in the rebroadcast (so the narrator explained).
The narrator challenged the "audience": "Did you catch on to what happened? Can you see how this turned into a tragedy for one unlucky student?" Of course, the answer is no, so then a "never before seen piece of archival footage" is presented. The special event is over and most people have exited the auditorium. We're now at the back of the room. We see a young male student asking a member of the production team if he had seen his girlfriend. The student reveals that he received a text from his girlfriend saying that she had the seats already. Then he received another one 10 minutes later saying that he would need to sit by himself; that she had been selected for a special "audience participation" gag and she would see him after the show.
Only, there was no gag, the narrator revealed. What went wrong?
The documentary cuts to the search efforts that everyone undertook in the days following the TV special filming. Strangely, the search efforts uncovered a Labyrinth-style subbasement at a local radio station. It was not related to the disappearance, but I remember how much brown, earthy dust had accumulated on the desks and office equipment that had long been discarded and then forgotten by the radio station staff. Strangely, there were also two men dressed like they belonged in the Old West, presumably because of the dusty desert like conditions.
The dream finally returns to the revelation of the true factors leading up to the SFU student's death. She had been selected to participate, but due to the miscommunication within the production team, only the man who selected her was aware of it. Now, he was also drinking heavily while on the job and when the show got completely off track, he completely forgot about the gag he'd rigged up.
At some point in the show, it had been planned to lower the student who was waiting in a wooden crate that was strung up in the rafters to the floor and allow the band to open up their greatest gift - symbolically their fans. Only this never happened and the student was forgotten. She stayed in that crate for three days, hungry and alone. She knew she was dangling over certain death but knew that she had no other choice but to try and escape from the crate and scale her way back to solid ground. She never made it.
Her broken, frail body was found in the centre of the stage several days after the TV special. It took a while for investigators to piece together the true nature of the events, but they finally figured it out and the documentary was made. The crew member denied any negligence in the stunt gone wrong, but it was clear he was to blame.
At this point, the dream switches to a first person perspective. I have joined a group of students and adults for a multi-discipline arts discussion. (Two people I knew, the others were strangers.) There were about a dozen of us sitting around a meeting table and the discussion turned to the topic of this SFU student who tragically lost her life. We decided to hold an awareness benefit/memorial. The dream never progressed as far as the memorial itself.
*end of dream*
So make of it what you will. Even when my world turns dark and disturbing, it still fascinates me.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Welcome to my dream world!
I love
sleep.
I love not
only the rest, but the places I travel when my mind lets go of the waking world
and brings me through the looking glass into the realm of surreal, laced with
lingering traces of the familiar.
I love to
dream.
I love it
even more when I remember it all when I wake up.
Sometimes I
am a participant. Sometime I am omniscient. Sometimes it’s based on real life.
Sometimes, I’m living in an entirely fictional world.
I’m lucky
that I remember my dreams, and in many cases so vividly. So I am launching this
blog today to capture my other world. Dreams are often formed by pulling information from the real world, so I feel no shame in pulling my blog title from 1939's most recognizable dream... (or was it?)
Sweet
dreams,
Pam
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