Dreams and other-worldly places

'First Cup'
mixed media wall assemblage

©robin r kent

Last night, and for a few nights before that, I've had interesting, busy dreams. Many were thinly veiled metaphors for people and places from my past. It was nice to be in familiar surroundings visiting them again.
Another dream was just a bunch of busy work. That day's schedule had been over the top and I found myself matching socks in my sleep. It was the first time I can recall editing a dream in progress saying 'this is a waste of dreamtime' and starting a 'second feature' without really waking up.
I used to read Freud's 'Interpretation of Dreams' when younger, but now I just enjoy the ride. Who needs to go to the movies?
Many times my art problems can be solved there also. It's good to get some distance on them. There's a notebook next to my bed, but I usually remember anyway.
I fly a lot in my dreams. Always have since childhood. But I never flew too high and always had to 'peddle' to stay airborne. I must have learned that while swimming in flippers. It was handy. Still is.
Gravity is something I never took seriously. As a child in bed at night, I could look at my ceiling and think of it as a floor. I could mentally walk to my bedroom's threshold, which looked like a short wall in a submarine, step over it, and continue walking on the ceiling down the hallway. It was such a pristine surface with nice lighting. And so quiet no one could hear me. Try it. It's a good exercise.

Once when I had a childhood fever, I remember my mother kneeling at my feet offering me thin slices - like shiny needles or wires - that cut the air into three dimensional surfaces. She broke that dream by washing my face. I always remembered that invisible 3d concept of volume and came across it only once more as an adult.  But that's a story for another night. 

How do you dream? Any come true? 

Time to say goodnight.