Monday, August 01, 2005

dream of the fish

this is all true.

how could it not be? remember, i'm no fiction-writer.

it had to be a dream, the strangest, longest, realest dream i've ever had; these past few days are too improbable to have happened outside my subconscious narrative.

overlaps, that's the thing, & a series of surreal settings, sensory-overload lights encompassing unlikely scenes, sequentially.

it had an underwater feel, the ebb & flow of time intensely felt, a quality of light that gave it away. green clamshells glowed blue & the shells of crabs & underwater flora lay strewn about my feet. the edges of shells are sharp, the beckoning blue mouths of mussels seemed to parallel the curve of black dolphins surfacing. there were cycles, & much destruction & construction of sand castles, one way or the other eventually taken by the tide. the egrets had vanished from the marshes, & what were all those shifting, floating arms & that spreading red glow if not an undersea volcano?

thatch in the rain, shining drops over a view of a city of the future, & the wet paths that lead to it spotlit in blue. overturned boats, advertisements in the sky. Steel Pier at a distance, closing down, neon & bulbs going dark one ride at a time. who is abandoning all these places, & why? the flickering light at the end of a braid. veritable showers of light, bombardments of light & driftwood. drums & birdcage chairs, convex mirror coffee table, hammock swings hung from a lush canopy.
at key moments i could feel the spin of the earth.

i haven't seen you in years. you are so changed, you are not you, you are fundamentally the same, like our conversations never died, i would know you anywhere. i know you. how are you all in the same room together? how does this conversation happen? how did we get from there to here? how many cities can you visit in a night? how many rooms full of overlapping worlds? so many eyes to make contact with, to hold, to question, to maintain a memory of along with a silhouette to imprint on the mind. features are a blur, an exercise in time travel. & always there is change.

stained glass sacred hearts in the ceiling & devil-worship emblems tattooed on bathroom walls, black on red, as if on sunburned skin. merpeople engraved in pillars, their armor & schools of fish separating from the stone. meet me at the column before the rain begins.

sun blazing in & out of background fixtures & clouds, making details impossible to see. even the grains of sand cast shadows. i was not surprised when the talk turned to paradox, but who remembers the conversations held in dreams? a quote, an epigram, a bit of an elegy here & there. something inexplicably meaningful for all its nonsensical nature, a conversation between strangers.

therefore the question is -- the question is -- what does the dream mean?

8 little fish:

Blogger Carl V. swam up to say...

Very cool, the addition of the picture is great as are all the recent pics on the tourist site!

12:01 AM  
Blogger transience swam up to say...

that had me floored with all its amazing imagery. i could read it over and over. but i still couldn't tell you what it meant. that said, i'll read it again.

12:48 AM  
Blogger mysfit swam up to say...

ah - a fractured faerytale - lovely :)

10:04 AM  
Blogger Jay swam up to say...

I don't think an intense dream like that could begin to be picked apart!

11:54 AM  
Blogger jenn see swam up to say...

metaphorically a dream anyway...just me trying to make sense of it, in a veiled sort of way...what to do when we lose the boundary between dreams & waking?

12:21 PM  
Blogger mysfit swam up to say...

just keep walking - the boundary is less imporatnt than the journey itself - let the boundary go when it becomes obsolete...

12:25 PM  
Blogger jenn see swam up to say...

hey...what happened to the bubbles?

3:38 PM  
Blogger mysfit swam up to say...

sry - i playing with the bubbles...

11:39 AM  

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