I've been dreaming again. Nights and early mornings of multiple features that leave me confused and wondering what is going on up there. And why my subconscious is so much more imaginative that my feeble day time consciousness is...
I woke up on the side of the road - half under a parked car. The sharp cold gravel stuck to my naked skin and had to be forcibly brushed and picked off. Some time after I realized I was actually wearing black shorts - which was good. I started walking home - possibly to the old family house in Faulconbridge. I found useful objects along the way - wire and clips that you hang pictures off the wall with. Later, I found a pile of useful discarded tools on the grass verge. Screw-drivers, drill bits, saws etc... I thought these would be useful and started to collect them up. In the back of my mind I could see they would be useful in creating ART. Then this bloke turned up who obviously owned this stuff - who was just leaving it there whilst getting more tools - and I put the load down again. I turned to walk away then stopped. I turned and apologized to the bloke and stuck my hand out to shake his - which he accepted. A few polite words, then I was back walking home.
Arriving home I found the house abandoned. The front door had the remains of some kind of attempt to barricade it shut - the door was open. Walking into the first room down the corridor I was met by the family red setter who bounded madly around the room as red setters do no matter what mood they are in. Half his tail lay on the floor, a foot of bedragled red hair that had a surprising weight to it when I picked it up. I had the impression that he had gnawed his own tail off. As I walked through the house the feeling of abandoment of continued. The backroom was littered with more red dog hair, piled high by the wind from the open back door. More signs of failed barricades. A large plastic tub filled with fetid liquid and amophous white globs propped the back fly screen open. Abandonment. Invasion. Fear.
This was one of a number of dreams from last night. Each I vividly remembered as I lay semi-conscious, mulling over the contents of my mind. Figuring out which houses were represented, which people. Now, of course, all the others are forgotten. If I am lucky, some random object or thought will resurrect one of them in my memory today - but more likely they are gone for good now. Perhaps I should keep the notepad next to the bed like so many people do - jot down these strange and disturbing images.
Underneath and Behind show 19th Nov 2016
5 months ago