Thursday, July 21, 2011

Witch Dreams

Morning, Reader!

This is going to be a quick post as I stayed up late working on freelance stuff, then slept in, and am headed to the bookstore for the rest of the day (and coffee first is ESSENTIAL).

However, I had a dream this morning and I wanted to share. Imagine you curled up beside me--in a totally platonic, friendly sort of way. You are half asleep. Then suddenly you sense something. Me. You open your eyes and realize I am staring at you.

"I had a weird dream," I say.

Welcome to Curt's life.

So, in my dream Curt and I were on a journey. Possibly a quest. Two powerful beings were monitoring our progress and hindering us but never outright trying to stop us. We walked up a steep path and a large, teetering Victorian house came into view.

There was a woman waiting for us. She looked like Helena Bonham Carter (I just saw Harry Potter, the last). She takes us inside and separates us. Then she seduces me and cuts off my hair. Now, she says, I'm under her power. She will always know where I am. The longer I stay with her, the uglier she gets. Soon I realize that she has a beard and several chins. I keep trying to escape and she keeps stopping me. It's a game to her. I don't know where Curt is.

Finally, I realize that if I close a particular door on her and say something--alas, the dream kept that information from me, so I can't tell you what the magic words were--I could slip away. It works! I tear through the giant house, looking for Curt. I find him stuffed in a room barely big enough for him--a box with a tiny door.

He tries to hug me. He is confused and lonely. I push past him and open a window. I pull myself through, then him. Once outside, we're both free of our respective spells.

The witch pursues us but her power over us is gone. The two beings who watch our progress our sitting on the lawn drinking lemonade. They say nothing as we run up the path and away.

Just as we've crested the hill, just before the house drops out of sight, our two Watchers turn us into some sort of raccoon/ badger animal. We keep running. They laugh. Clink glasses.

I wake up.



    a lot goes on in your head. it's interesting to see this in concert with a) what you like to read, and b) the worlds you create when you write.

    Genome of the Artist.

  2. (nervous laughter) Yeah I'm not sure how it all adds up. I think my dreams are much darker than what I write or read. It's funny since in my writing I often feel the need to darken it up, but I've had recurring nightmares since was a kid. Being imprisoned in a house with neverending rooms is a recurring theme.