December 2006

Well, since I've been taking a higher dose of medication to prevent migraines, I've been having less happy dreams. Over the past few days I've also been too tired to wake up properly and end up forgetting my dreams before I've properly recalled them. This to me, is like a living nightmare.

I'm not sure how other people see dreams. I'm not sure what part they play in your lives. But to me it is integral to my very sanity to partake in, as fully as possible, the dreamworld. To sleep is one thing, but to enjoy the relief of dream is another necessity. I've been quite unwell for a few weeks now (my Achilles’ heel is in my head), my sinus problems are causing me all kinds of horrible sleep. That half sleep that drives you mad, you know the one. And that awful sleep that makes you feel all the more tired when you wake up. *hateful growl*

I've been having flits of dreams for the past two or three days. I can remember shards of things that have happened. I will relate as much as possible, after all - that is why I have a dream journal...

Dream Journal

This evening, I dreamt :

I was in a semi-truck, someone was talking to me, but I was looking at the road, trying to make sure we didn't hit any of the rabbits on the road, or the owls hunting the rabbits. It was daytime outside, so I couldn't grasp why there were so many owls out - regardless of the fact that barn owls (which were the type in my dream) do hunt during the day too, they are more adaptable than other owls, I think. Anyway... So, suddenly I was driving this truck. I can't remember switching places or even putting my foot on the gas or whatever (I've never been behind the wheel of a car, let alone a semi', so I had no idea what I was doing/supposed to do) but somehow we were still moving. I saw loads of rabbits with eyes that were far too large for their heads (and still adorable) on the road. I nearly hit one, but my slow weaving helped steer us across the road enough to miss the lot. Then a bunch of owls (I don't think they hunt together, in fact, I recon it would be stupid if owls did) swooped down in front of the truck and I tried to slow us even more, but one of the owls still ended up flailing into the window. I stopped the truck and jumped out with my friend. I still don't know who he was, but I knew the person was male.

We checked out the owl to see if it was okay. I think it had damaged it's foot because the claw wouldn't tighten at all and the bird couldn't move it well. We wrapped the owl up in a jumper so that it didn't freak out and end up breaking its wings too, and its little head was swiveling around and it opened its mouth silently as if to nip anything which came near it. We got back into the truck and headed towards the university where my friend was doing a degree in Veterinary Medicine. He was only a first year and wanted to see if anyone was around to help. Personally, I think we should have taken the owl to an actual Vet' rather than the University.

When we'd found someone and they checked the bird out and said they could help it, I decided to find my studio.

The next thing I remember :

I was trying to work in a studio that was new to me. The place was full of second and third year students. I was sitting facing a wall covered in someone else’s artwork.

I got up and looked around, the door opened and a new friend from the course came through with some other people I had spoken to. I wanted to say hi to John (the new friend) but I was having trouble speaking. I grabbed my throat and wondered where my voice had gone. But I wasn't hurt so I left it at that and decided to pack up my stuff and maybe head out to actually find my own studio.

In the corridor I found myself growing more and more confused. I wasn't aware of a school coming to visit today - but we had school children in all of the studios. They were painting and making a mess and generally seemed happy to be there but were taking up space I could have been using and should have been using. I was annoyed. I couldn't find a tutor, there were no adults around and I couldn't fathom why. All I wanted to do was paint, to draw, to think. I wanted somewhere to set up my stuff and chill out. I wanted somewhere to actually make something worth looking at.

But the studios were full of well-meaning and happy children - enjoying art, but never really grasping any thought in it, any real experience. They seemed so preoccupied with how well it related to something else. Like: forgetting how to paint an object because they spent so much time wondering if what they were painting looked like it; I also saw a child that was trying to make their work look like Van Gogh's. Now, I've never been fond of his work, but for a child to mimic it seems ridiculous. What would a child know of his troubles and state of mind when he created many of his artworks? What grasp would the average child have on the fuel of every brush stroke? I do not like Van Gogh's paintings, but to fail to realise how his paintings have captured something beyond the image he's painted - to see why he painted, or what he was feeling, or the distress even in a quiet picture - and yet to attempt to mimic it without even this basic comprehension... Oh, it made me angry and sad.