(no subject)
I dreamed last night that people came from shadows: that a great shadow was the mother/father/bearer of us all. In the dream, as a result, shadows were not scary hiding places for the unknown, but rather something to be respected and regarded highly. I was investigating/learning about this great origination, and learned it was two pronged. We could not be born of the shadows as a people until two things came together. One of these involved naming the shadow: by knowing the right name of things, one could control them ( I recall playing with a shadow as if it were a dog in my dream, and making it leap and jump about by telling it to do so). I don't really recall how I dealt with the problem of us being born of the shadow - yet who named us from the shadow?
And somehow too, when you looked at shadows up close, they were millions upon millions of tiny black words.
I woke up thinking it a bit amazing, and felt like it had been a poetic dream.
I had another dream at another point in the night about misplacing my passport whilst traveling back the US. We flew (my family came too...) in a box/shipping container type thing, landed in an underpass, and the immigration/customs was accessed through a bunch of makeshift shoddy wooden stairs. I got in the wrong line, and realised one of my family members had my backpack, which had my passport, and they were already through customs. They were going to deport me back to the UK without my passport, and I was rather frantic. The immigration people were very strict, and wouldn't let me get the backpack from my family to get my passport. Somehow, my mother showed up with a passport that was the wrong colour. It wasn't mine - it was someone else's, but had been altered so that my name and signature were in it, and the girl in the photo had some semblance of me. It was a quite blatant forgery, but the immigration woman took it, stamped it, and let me through. She just needed a passport - any passport. I then was a bit frantic, trying to find my passport in my backpack - I couldn't find it at first, and was worried I'd have to stay in the US, and couldn't return to the UK to finish my PhD.
I think I should try and develop the first dream into a story or something - or maybe a work of art.
And somehow too, when you looked at shadows up close, they were millions upon millions of tiny black words.
I woke up thinking it a bit amazing, and felt like it had been a poetic dream.
I had another dream at another point in the night about misplacing my passport whilst traveling back the US. We flew (my family came too...) in a box/shipping container type thing, landed in an underpass, and the immigration/customs was accessed through a bunch of makeshift shoddy wooden stairs. I got in the wrong line, and realised one of my family members had my backpack, which had my passport, and they were already through customs. They were going to deport me back to the UK without my passport, and I was rather frantic. The immigration people were very strict, and wouldn't let me get the backpack from my family to get my passport. Somehow, my mother showed up with a passport that was the wrong colour. It wasn't mine - it was someone else's, but had been altered so that my name and signature were in it, and the girl in the photo had some semblance of me. It was a quite blatant forgery, but the immigration woman took it, stamped it, and let me through. She just needed a passport - any passport. I then was a bit frantic, trying to find my passport in my backpack - I couldn't find it at first, and was worried I'd have to stay in the US, and couldn't return to the UK to finish my PhD.
I think I should try and develop the first dream into a story or something - or maybe a work of art.