Sunday, September 02, 2007

To see who in the world you might be

Joni Mitchell's Rainy Night House was playing in my dream last night. It was like a soft speaker was pumping this song into every nook and cranny of every building I was in, every street and alley and frightful forest. Everyone was there - everyone from my life, that is.

I have these reoccuring dreams that really aren't the true definition of reoccuring. If they were, I'd be doing the exact same thing over and over but that isn't the case. It's more like a reoccuring stage and cast - camps/neighborhoods/hotels/schools that all come together to represent every living situation I've ever had - from my mother's womb to college to now. And everyone I've ever known, all hanging out in different rooms together - friends old and new, family, old schoolmates, ex lovers - even my old pets will make an appearance with Leo.

What happens in these dreams? Something different all the time, but in general, I guess I end up working out relationship issues with the people in my past and present. Sometimes this can be very painful.

You came to the party by yourself
Pushing an empty stroller
And you locked yourself in your room
Everyone was talking about you
They didn't like who you had become
I didn't mind, I just wanted to know you again
But I was shut out too.

When I finally broke into your room
I screamed so loud it woke me up
You just stood there

3 comments:

Meghan Henley said...

Wow, thought provoking blog today! Just wanted to let you know I am a slacker but finally mailed the painting this morning. (I said I would mail it last week! oopsie!)

rowena said...

I have similar thematic dreams. Often in the same place, homes that I've had, or haven't had. And I also get transportation dreams, buses, trains, cars... and often rivers. The Hudson river is a frequent backdrop for my dreams.

And I just know those dreams mean something really important to where I am in life, and to my creativity. It's kind of cool

Anonymous said...

A sin for our time

What will happen
to our unfinished business
when we run out of time
to tidy up any more?

It seems to me that
I will meet on the road
the old man I blanked,
the friend I never called,
the lover whom I failed to love.

I don't think I can afford
to behave as though there are things;
as though there are people
that are unimportant

But I do...