Apr 28, 2009 11:37
In southerly climes it would have begun in early March, but the cool spring air creeping in through the bedroom window has infected me with the strange dreams I lost for most of my 30s and recovered shortly before my 40th birthday. In my youth they brought me enormous, industrial-designed spacecraft hovering over the Baltimore beltway, or else jungles full of dinosaurs as viewed through the windows of my parents' yellow station wagon. If I were (un)lucky, they'd be of Godzilla-sized monsters stalking the subdivisions of Winchester, VA, striving to spot me through a window as I rushed desperately through the house to find a room without one.
They started again a few nights ago, and last night I dreamed of watching a late-night horror film festival under water, annoyed by crabs and fish with bad cinema manners. Later I dreamed I was reading a series of comics by an artist who each issue based his style on the work of a different 20th Century painter.
I'm eager to sleep tonight.