Since a very young age I’ve had the most incredible dreams. Vivid, full of colour, very often precognitive in nature and always very enjoyable. I’ve gone through various phases of writing down my dreams, trying to work out what they mean and then of course getting all caught up in the day to day where I simply don’t have the time. As an avid diarist, there are months and months of meandering thoughts spilling out without a single dream and then I have a spell of a few weeks where they’re on every second page. Flight, planes, death, friends, locations. I don’t exactly know why I start and stop. It feels important enough to be interested enough to spend 10 minutes a day on it. I think it’s an art actually and after reading an article about it I’ve decided that I’m a Dream Art Scientist. They didn’t exactly use that term but it suits me just fine. For one thing it makes an excellent backdrop for a song and even an album. The backbone and CNS of my next record is starting to take shape. I think it is anyway. Or maybe I should look at it more like cell division. It’s a tricky process so loaded with emotion that the slightest shift in day life sends things hurtling in another direction. The safety of dreams means you can die a million times and still wake up to tell the story.* Not true for day life. I had a rough week leading up to the day before yesterday and had a minor crash. My crashes I realise are like holidays so I’m almost glad of them. Not great when there’s work to be done and boy is there work to be done. Perhaps my new found dream art science can lend some advice.
*I was beheaded in a dream once and yes, you are awake for a bit after your head rolls away.