200906
the weather is changing quickly and it is more and more difficult to get up in the mornings. also it is Too Dark! and the bed is just so cozy… *and* my tiny alarm clock is misbehaving. the snooze button seems to be broken. so i overslept this morning. but it was so worth it. what a curious dream. i was in what seemed to be a hotel or hospital room, but the people around were from my office. i was looking through my things and found an old combination polaroid camera/field glasses and held it up to look out the window. it didn’t work and seemed to fall apart in my hands. i opened the back and there was still polaroid film inside. sticky and half-pulled apart. the image was very interesting, reddish and mottled, just texture. i saw that there was another group of polaroids clipped inside, stored there. i was delighted to find them.
then i pulled out the tattered box of the camera and sat on the floor to open it. it was FULL of negatives and images. some odd polaroid film on a roll. i began to look through the images. they were wonderful. very old, with extreme compositions and discolorations. i felt connected to the person who made them, because i recognized a similar vision. in particular i remember a snapshot of a woman and two children, with the figures at the extreme lower left corner and part of a house and empty space the background. and several images of groups of mailboxes, some on posts, some nailed to walls. and perhaps a flock of birds.
i was seated in an awkward place, though, in front of the door to the room, where people needed to pass in and out. they did not seem to notice my treasures. even when i made small squeals. i wanted to organize and examine the photos though, before i tidied up and moved aside. they were everywhere. and they kept growing. the box kept replenishing and i discovered more and more. i realized i could scan all of the negatives. i could hardly wait to mess around with them.
then i woke.
as i was (hurriedly) dressing, i told my dream to my poet, describing it as almost orgasmic. it reminded me of my “house dreams” - where i am in a interesting old house and keep finding new rooms. to him, the meaning of parts of the dream was fairly clear, with the box of photos being my Self. i agreed, having recognized that in the house dreams, the house was me. i am still thinking about the other things that seemed clear to him, but not necessarily to me. like the part of obstructing the doorway. and why the treasures were not interesting to others. and another part. erf. see? my brains are already being pulled into the fluorescents.
contemplation to be resumed on the walk home…