Wednesday, December 16, 2020


 Whether awake or asleep, you appear as a dithering protagonist on a journey. The journey often has to do with arrival at a particular place to perform a particular task. In either state, wakened or asleep, you are often made aware that you are incapible of performing the designated task. (In one particular dream, your task was to perform the soloist guitar part of Rodrigo's Concerto for Guitar and Orchestra. 

Nevertheless, there you stood, the orchestra behind you, the conductor before you, nodding your entry cue at you. And so you did. At least, you heard the opening guitar theme. But the entire concept so boggled you that you soon awoke, happy in the sense of "hearing" music you admire, relieved you did not have to perform it.)

Other aspects of the journey involve tracking down--tracing--information or understanding, bringing it from either the wakened or dream state to the contrary state. You bring parents, a sibling, a wife, or friends from the remove of death to the dream state, wherein you interact or watch them at some purposeful movement. 

You visit a thrive of animal friends, thrilled once again to be in their presence, where you experience that remarkable sense of connection, the certainty of you knowing their quirks and moods, of theirs in the bonds of companionship. Every bit as splendid to have a dog napping nearby while you wrote as to be out on some seaside or mountain or even neighborhood jaunt. To have a cat with you in dream state triggers the sense of adventure to come.

Wakened experiences often thrust you into that in-between state where you are writing, arranging words, details, consequences. No telling how and when that state will occur--sometimes in the midst of sleep, wherein situations and invented personages will push the dream visions off stage, insinuate themselves for as many "takes" or scenes as necessary in order to get the overall movementback into play.

You are of an age now where there is scarcely any detail that goes off by itself, a lonely outcast on the playground where others play. And yet perhaps this was always the case, but it has taken you this long to recognize it.

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