new dream (P to the rescue), thaumatropes, old dreams, and old friends
Strange dreams lately. Still dreaming of airplanes and adventures on a regular basis…
But the other night I had a dream that I was sitting on a padded bench beside PK. I think we were talking, although we may have just been sitting there beside each other. At any rate, it seemed like a normal enough thing, like we happened to quietly hang out on benches with each other all the time (just to be clear here, we do not, I don’t really know him). I tried to say something to him, but suddenly found it hard to breath, and sort of hoarsely apologised for my lack of ability to be articulate, and that I was having an asthma attack. At which point he looked rather concerned and with some small amount of heroic flair reached his hand into his coat pocket and handed me a blue inhaler. Ta-da! Heh heh , Patrick saves the day. And then I woke up.
Strange things that the unconscious mind does when left to its own devices, and this particular dream so vividly. But I guess I had just read an interview with him in Modern Drummer where he was talking about having to choose between art and drumming, and we had actually had a real life similar conversation when I met him in TO, and I had been pondering that somewhat – the difficulty of having two passions, To have one present itself so alluringly with an income attached. The pull and tugging of each on your spirit. So that explains his presence on the bench -but where the ventolin inhaler comes in? Your guess is as good as mine…though I suppose in hindsight he was my own personal hero that day, so maybe that is it. Or maybe it is just some random weirdness my brain entertained me with. I have a tendency to read too much into things sometimes. (often)
I am back to my thaumatropes after a brief vacation from them. I think I had thaumatrope overload and needed a breather…but they are suddenly inspiring me again. I have a new one cooked up that I need to spend some nights putting together. Also going to get some copper tubing in to saw lovely little rivets for them. This one is again, an exploration of loneliness and isolation. This time, like my recent pendant, about the self imposed measures and stops we put on our hearts and how they keep us from connection. Here is a small sneak peek of things to come…
This weekend I spent some time with old friends from Montreal who have followed in our footsteps and also made the venture to move to this strange island. In fact, they have bought the house that started the whole idea for us of moving. We spent many hours in that house, and dreaming of a life there – although we decided in the end not to buy it. I was nervous to go and see it, with them as its owners. A strange feeling to have someone else live a dream that you had dreamt, if that makes sense. I was worried that I would feel like I had made a mistake, that I should have chosen that house, that land by the river with the little tea house as well. That I would be overcome by wistful regret and longing, and envy. But it was strange… as we pulled up, it was just a house again. I didn’t really feel too much of anything other than it was a nice house, but not for me. So I was glad to feel no sense of loss and could just feel happy for them that they had it now. They have plans to open a B&B there in the spring. We ate yummy food and shared a few drinks, and it was nice to see all the work that they were doing renovating and making it theirs.