the island of the week before: archives

category: dreams
In which there are notes and links about dreaming, lucid and otherwise.

Thursday, May 30, 2002

I had a dream a few nights ago about running a simulation of being in the World Trade Center after the planes hit. In the dream, I was in one of the towers as the walls tipped and the floor lurched and then everything filled up with fire. I ran the simulation over and over, trying to find a way to change it.

10:19 PM (link)

Saturday, April 20, 2002

The news is not that k10k relaunched. (It did.) It's that I had an elaborate dream last night that k10k relaunched, and that the front page was an animated gif of a launch party.

The weird thing about this is that I had no (conscious) foreknowledge of the relaunch. Also that k10k's teeny text, 15 yeard-old boy vibe, and repetitive robot-plane-in-layers projects are about as far from my style as possible, and I almost never go there.

Get away from my sleeping brain, k10k!

10:54 AM (link)

Friday, February 01, 2002

This article made the rounds a few weeks ago, but I haven't had the time and presence of mind to write anything about it until now.

The article explores the intricate folklore that has sprung up among homeless children in Miami shelters—a nightmare version of the world in which children are warriors in the battle between angels and demons. The stories themselves are luminous and eerie—and heartbreaking because it's all too easy to guess how the influence of abusive or addicted or mentally ill adults has shaped them.

The leader of the demon army that menaced and torments the children is Bloody Mary/La Llorona, the crying woman of Mexican legend turned traitorous mother of God:

She weeps blood or black tears from ghoulish empty sockets and feeds on children's terror. When a child is killed accidentally in gang crossfire or is murdered, she croons with joy.

I read the article twice on the evening it made Metafilter, and that night, I had an unusually vivid dream:

We had just completed the final scene of the movie I was in, which had all been shot in one long take, and the director, a manic older man that I trusted, took me outside to look at the sky just outside the main set. He reminded me of someone.

We outside and looked at a million really bright stars all clustered together, and then we ducked our heads down and saw the stars filtered through tree branches and then some kind of ribbed translucent plastic, like a cheap porch-light cover.

The director commented that it was strange to see the stars through the plastic when there were aligators in the water, and I turned and looked at the lake shore a few steps away and realized that the plastic filter showed what the stars would look like from underwater.

And then we went back into the house/set and retraced our steps, going from room to room that we'd shot in, and then we were in the kitchen where the last scene had been shot. I saw bloody handprints and marks on the kitchen walls, and I understood that I'd died in the end of the movie, which I hadn't known.

And then we walked outside and there were all the cameras and crew and the rest of the cast, waiting for us, so that they could begin celebrating the wrap. We stood on the porch and they stood up and applauded us, and then I woke up and forgot most of the dream.

The next morning, I re-read the article and the name La Llorona jumped out at me, and then I remembered that the singing woman at Silencio in Mulholland Drive was called La Llorona de Los Angeles, and then the dream came back in a rush.

Mulholland Drive, of course, is a dream itself.

I made the connections in my sleep before I remembered them in waking life, and I can't shake off the feeling that even though I came to no grand conclusion, I've learned something important.

05:46 PM (link)

Monday, January 21, 2002

I had my first lucid dream a few nights ago, which was thrilling in a sleepy, befuddled way.

I was standing in the bathroom of a club, and I thought, “Damn, I dream that I'm in bathrooms a lot. Oh...dream. Dream!”

The floor was was tiled with big square dark tiles and smaller orange and light green ones in a repeating pattern, and I understood that those were my colors (they're hers and hers as well), and had certain implications about the room itself as a symbol.

I may have dreamed that I realized I was dreaming, and I didn't hold onto it long enough to do any reality tests, but either way, it was pretty wonderful.

11:21 PM (link)

Thursday, December 06, 2001

I dreamed about my BART pass, and about a conversation with the president, and also that someone sent me an enormous bouquet of flowers to celebrate some achievement. I was startled and delighted, and they came in a big translucent white container that looked suspiciously familiar.

01:11 PM (link)

Tuesday, June 05, 2001

Had a delightful extended dream this morning (around th alarm clock and the garbage trucks) in which a tiny, sugar-glider-ish squeaking creature had moved in with me in an apartment with very high ceilings in London. It scuttled and made little whirring noises and frightened the South American lady who lived downstairs and liked its chin scratched.

This is pertinent because (as far as I can tell) my small-mammal fixation is derived primarily from a very vivid dream that I had when I was about four about a small, flying mammal named Batwing.

gliders in a sack Sugar gliders are illegal in Massachusetts (where I live) and California (where I'm moving to), so for now, I'll have to be content with my cat and this cute-porn.

08:01 AM (link)