Dreams
I sometimes remember my (at night) dreams very very vividly. And sometimes they don't go away even after a day or two.
Wednesday night I dreamt of this house. It was a tiny cottage surrounded by trees around from the outside but like some Escheresque phenomenon, it was expansive on the inside. There was this beautifully appointed living room and bedroom and a separate sitting room with paintings of all of the owners, done in the style most relevant to the various eras. These painting wrapped around the room in a time line going from oldest, by the big bay window to a Dadaist masterpiece on several pieces of overlapping stretched burlap right above the chaise-lounge. That was the most remarkable piece.
The dream was of me and Sid going to buy this house as a weekend retreat, but we just couldn't bare to see the current owners leave it, so we didn't.
Thursday night I had dreams of walking around downtown some unknown City (not mine nor this one) and yellow school buses. All day I had been remember odd things... working at Canterbury Hills, Theatre Orangeville, My first home after leaving my parents. (Was that City Montreal, was this a result of spending two hours watching Ministry play and reconnecting with my youth, or reclaiming my lost works). I don't know, it was a wonderfully rich feeling, to have this legacy of creativity and community stretching behind me and knowing that it is what my life has to offer in the future.
A friend asked me to rate my life out of 10. I gave it some thought and came up with a very sincere and honest 8.
When I was younger, before I adopted the persona of "The Oath" I used to write my poetry by hand in a blue hardcover note book in an outdoors chapel. By a river.
I wanted to create installations, rooms full of words and images and music that people could loose themselves in for hours. Now I want to build website that combine words and images and music and help people find themselves for their lifetime.
I used to dream of sophisticated brushes that applied paint directly to the canvas from the tube and combining modeling plaster with canvas to create three dimensional paintings that projected from the walls. I wanted to build a paper mache angel and wrap it in chains. I wanted to create artwork that was breathtakingly beautiful on the surface but had an undercurrent of doubt and wonder that would cause people to rethink everything.
I never did build that paper mache angel.
Wednesday night I dreamt of this house. It was a tiny cottage surrounded by trees around from the outside but like some Escheresque phenomenon, it was expansive on the inside. There was this beautifully appointed living room and bedroom and a separate sitting room with paintings of all of the owners, done in the style most relevant to the various eras. These painting wrapped around the room in a time line going from oldest, by the big bay window to a Dadaist masterpiece on several pieces of overlapping stretched burlap right above the chaise-lounge. That was the most remarkable piece.
The dream was of me and Sid going to buy this house as a weekend retreat, but we just couldn't bare to see the current owners leave it, so we didn't.
Thursday night I had dreams of walking around downtown some unknown City (not mine nor this one) and yellow school buses. All day I had been remember odd things... working at Canterbury Hills, Theatre Orangeville, My first home after leaving my parents. (Was that City Montreal, was this a result of spending two hours watching Ministry play and reconnecting with my youth, or reclaiming my lost works). I don't know, it was a wonderfully rich feeling, to have this legacy of creativity and community stretching behind me and knowing that it is what my life has to offer in the future.
A friend asked me to rate my life out of 10. I gave it some thought and came up with a very sincere and honest 8.
When I was younger, before I adopted the persona of "The Oath" I used to write my poetry by hand in a blue hardcover note book in an outdoors chapel. By a river.
I wanted to create installations, rooms full of words and images and music that people could loose themselves in for hours. Now I want to build website that combine words and images and music and help people find themselves for their lifetime.
I used to dream of sophisticated brushes that applied paint directly to the canvas from the tube and combining modeling plaster with canvas to create three dimensional paintings that projected from the walls. I wanted to build a paper mache angel and wrap it in chains. I wanted to create artwork that was breathtakingly beautiful on the surface but had an undercurrent of doubt and wonder that would cause people to rethink everything.
I never did build that paper mache angel.