Dream journal 2023
22/7 I’m standing on top of a building and the wind is blowing. I look out over the street - I’m several stories up. I feel a message inside me saying to take off my dress, and I do. Bare chested, I feel exposed - I look down at the street and wonder if anyone can see me. I grab my discarded dress and turn it out the right way so I can get it on quickly if I need to. As I’m doing this, I glance at a window next to me - it’s partially obscured but I can see the eyes of someone in there. I know that there’s a student there, a woman. I know I need to show her and myself that I’m not ashamed of being naked. I drop my dress and I start to dance there on the edge of the roof of. I turn and spin wildly. I know now people can see me, but I feel exhilarated. I dance past the classroom and its concealed windows into the corridors of the school building. I’m dancing and dancing - at first to no music and then I pass a kitchen full of people in aprons, listening to the radio. I can hear them laughing and singing and I start dancing to the song, slapping my thighs, leaping, exuberant. A class comes out and someone says: “Wow, we could see you dancing!” As he looks at me I feel aware of my nakedness but not ashamed. He hands me a T-shirt to put on and offers me a plate of food to eat - delicious, soft fresh cheese and fruit. I know that this is a sign my dance has pleased some greater power, that I’ve done well. Feelings: power, pleasure, exhilaration.
Dream journal 2023
15/7 I’m walking along a narrow, sandy ridge next to the ocean. Looking down, I see a whale surge up, leaping free of the water and plunging back down - and another whale, and another. I want to be closer so I scramble down the bank and into the water, which is deep. I’m almost immediately in the path of the whales. One arcs over my head and I see its blue and grey ridged belly bearing down on me, taking up my entire vision. I think it will land on me and realise I won’t survive this. But it doesn’t, I do. Feelings: exhilaration, awe.
Dream journal: 2023
5/5 I’m walking with Linda and Emma on the shore. A young elephant runs down from a break in the trees and into the water, and I see there are two others swimming already, beautiful, smooth-skinned, and surprisingly frolicsome. We take care to get out of their path as they emerge. As I walk, I see beautiful pink stones embedded in the sand and I stop to choose a couple of small ones to take home. The others walk on but I’m ready to go home. Feelings: pleasure, delight
Dream journal: 2023
28/3 I’m with Michelle in Aotearoa and we’re on a lunch break from work. We’re at a bookshop and I tell her how much I liked the comic she lent me, Saga. I’m feeling close to her and happy to be with her. She asks if we have time for a swim and we stop at a beach near the road. I stand ankle deep and see a tall wave coming, which crashes close to me, splashing me. I laugh and hurriedly move back but then I see more waves coming, this time full of forest flotsam - large leafy branches and logs. When the waves rise, the water is almost transparent, making the flotsam looking like huge clumpy islands rushing toward the shore. I yell at Michelle to run as the waves crash higher and higher up the beach, raining debris. Heavy logs are tossed into the air, hitting the ground all around us as we run - I know if one hits us we’ll die. We escape and go to my parents house to change our clothes. I go to mum and dad’s room and it’s incredibly messy, packed with clothes like they’ve been hoarding - it’s hard to even move and I feel worried about what’s happening to them. I try to I imagine why they are keeping the clothes and have a vision of somebody telling a sentimental story about wearing a dress on their first date - I think to myself: “yes, they need to feel the fabric to preserve their memories - a photo wouldn’t be enough”. Feelings: fear, concern, camaraderie
Dream journal: 2023
1/3 I’m at school and I run into an acquaintance, Tse. He seems sad and I know it’s because I rejected him in the past. I suggest we ditch school and go to a movie to cheer him up. Afterwards we go to sleep and I wake up to find he has stabbed himself in his stomach and bled to death. I go home and try to tell Jo but can’t seem to get it into the conversation.
Jo and I meet some a couple who invite us to a party. As we start walking, I fall in step with the woman and we put our arms around each other, mine over her shoulders and hers around my waist. It feels warm and comforting. We get to the party and she grabs my hand and says “Come on!”, running ahead - I think I should wait for Jo but I don’t want to miss out so I race after her down some narrow hallways and past a door, down some stairs. We arrive at a dance floor and I see people are dressed in leather and capes, some like bats. The dance starts with every person dropping to the ground, pretending to be sleeping bats, then awakening and stretching. The first dance ends and prizes are given for the best ones. The music starts again and I dance wildly - I get awarded a T-shirt and a PS2 console. I wish Jo was here to dance with me. Feelings: concern, responsibility
Dream journal : 2023
21/2 It’s a local cultural holiday and people are carrying trays of special foods - pastries and big triangles of white bread smothered in almonds. Some triangles are so big that people are pushing them around in wheelbarrows. I’m walking with Scott round a food hall where people are eating with their families. Someone hands me a pastry to try and tells me it’s called Sundafee - it’s delicious, made from dates and cheese curds but not too sweet. A couple there are selling a lotion that kills fleas immediately - I see them rub it on a ginger cat and the dark, dead fleas fall right off. They say it’s good for kids too and I rub it on my nephew - he tolerates it and I hope it isn’t poisonous. People are carrying armloads of records onto a stage at the end of the hall and DJing. Jo and I dance to Brazilian music. Feeling: confidence
Dream journal: 2023
26/1/23 Fragments: I’m trying to close all of the doors and windows while a big, exuberant, black dog runs and leaps around the house. I get a gift from my aunt of a homemade necklace and earrings - a pottery cross with blue beads embedded in the design, and dangling gold tassels. I don’t care for the cross but I ask my mum to put the earrings in for me - I wonder if the old holes from childhood have closed up but she slides them in without pain. I’m walking with Jo and Joh to university through underground tunnels. There’s a dim, pink-lit tunnel that’s getting smaller and I have to hunch over to move through - just as it gets uncomfortable we find a brighter, more spacious tunnel and we emerge out in the street. I’m barefoot and the tarmac is hot enough to make me hop. Feelings: willingness to try new things, adventurousness
Dream journal series: 2023
15/1/23 I’m working at a residential school, going through the store cupboards of school supplies and books and toys. Everything is old and damaged - I pick up some pieces of a puzzle and they are limp with damp and mould. I say to a colleague: “we must be able to do better - I’m throwing it all out”. Feelings: outrage, sadness.
Dream journal series: 2023
3/1/23 I’m doing a domestic task - hanging out washing, going back and forth from the corded metal line to the peg box. I’m stowing away bags and their contents, making sure everything is in its right place. My housemates call me to see how well they have packed for a trip and I praise them. It’s not clear to me if I am preparing to leave or stay. I have a moment of unwieldy insight, rising out of my life to see my own path among those of others. From this perspective, I see each person’s path is shaped by their profession, roles, culture - but not limited and defined by these things. I see there are junctions on the paths, meeting places where people are changed and paths reshaped. Listening to music together is one, sharing stories another. I see the microscopic potentials for change. Feelings: freedom, relief.
Dream journal series: 2022
3/11/22 I’m working for a group of performers who also run a community support service. It’s the sixties and also today, and I’m discovering all of these amazing artists - these queer women who were such brilliant comics and artists. We’re putting on a community lunch for a local street, in an old dancehall next to a pier. Chicken is roasting and I’m trying to explain to the women in the street (whose language I don’t speak) that it’s free for everyone who wants to eat. Our orchestra is about to play outside the hall and someone can’t play their instrument so just starts singing - everyone in the orchestra joins in, holding their instruments and singing whether they have good voices or not - it sounds energetic and exciting. I go out into the pier and it slips under my feet, almost tipping me into the water but I recover. I take a phone call - it’s Laura, telling me she misses me, that she wishes she could send me things so we could talk about them. I tell her I miss her, that I love her - I try to tell her about the work I’m doing now, what it feels like. Feelings: exhilaration, companionship.
Dream journal series: 2022
2/10/22 I’m a head teacher at a school and and seeing the parents of children. One tells me of a mysterious, mythical being - sometimes called O. NameCat, sometimes NoNameCat. It’s a kind of benevolent trickster god who appears to you in the strange cats you meet on walks. I meet a woman and tell her about it, and she is immediately focussed on helping me find the next sign or pointer to the NoNameCat - she points to a divot in the dirt surrounded by loose bricks, gives me the keys to her house and tells me to look there again later. When I come back, the bricks are piled over the shallow decline. I lift them and there are two snakes - one red and one white - sleeping there, coiled into an ouroboros. Feelings: intrigue, excitement.