Dream What You Write

Home:   

                           On this blog I have written about interrogators and torture, Vietnam, my cat, and my son, and then I dreamt about them.  A foreigner was being interrogated in Vietnam while my son and I observed the proceedings. Fortunately, the interrogation was painless, and the Vietnamese interrogator was soft-spoken, urbane, and an all-around nice guy. He uncrinkled a big blue plastic map (it looked and sounded like the poncho I wear when peddling my bike in the rain) and asked where he had landed. The man was immediately transformed into my cat–don’t we wish we could take sudden changes in our lives with the same aplomb as we do in dreams?–and pawed at the general area of Laos.

Then my cat traced its route along a river to a fork, and followed the fork heading south into Vietnam. I told the interrogator that the cat’s story was entirely plausable because I could teach a cat to distinguish left and right forks in a river. This dream didn’t have much emotional content, but the next one about a fellow blogger did: 

A beautiful red-head in a blue satin dress gushed that the night before and before her very eyes little notches suddenly appeared in the lid of an opened tin of tuna, and that it was a clear sign that I must certainly have written a story parrallel to her own on her blog–which I hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to say anything. Because she was so flattered by my effort, she was ready to desert her older middle-aged boyfriend (with thick wavy black hair standing off to the side) for me. I took her in my arms and said, “First blush is first blush, darling, but I’m older than your boyfriend.” She immediately turned into a piece of two-dimensional cardboard, and as her boyfriend carried her off the stage he gnashed his teeth at me and said, “I’m not a hundred years old.” Dork.

I haven’t dreamt about the Rapture yet, or making deals with the devil, or my death, or eating gallons of ice cream–but maybe I will. Wouldn’t it be nice to dream about everything you write? Then we could all write within a very limited range of topics, such as deserted isles with beautiful girls.

I sloshed my way through the surf, exhausted, and up on the beach, and caught a glimpse of them, hundreds of them, sloe-eyed and shy, hiding among the palm trees and in the grasses…

Advertisements

About soaringdragons

Twenty years and still alive--in China, that is. I write about China and the world of spirit--all very non-expertly--and whatever else strikes my fancy. You'll find posts on even days of the month.
This entry was posted in Living in the Universe and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Dream What You Write

  1. chris says:

    I sometimes incorporate dream events into my writing, but I’ve never done the opposite. Lucky you. I imagine it could help tremendously with writing; developing ideas, characters and situations etc.

    Also, it would be great to just jot down a quick outline for a good dream plot each night, then go to sleep and see it play out.

  2. soaringdragons says:

    I was surprised that I started dreaming what I had blogged, so the possibility of choosing what you dream simply by first writing about it intrigued me. I imagine it would take a fairly large sample of bloggers and their posts to determine if blogging influences dream material. In the meantime, it might be wise to be careful what you blog!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s