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March 26, 2011

i’m a dreamy person. and i don’t mean that i’m someone who makes other people swoon. (gonggggggggg). i mean that i have a lot of weirdo dreams. i don’t know if i dream more than the usual person, or if i just remember my dreams better, or if i just like talking about dreams more. i do love talking about dreams. dreams are odd dregs. they can scry. they can inspire things that i write.

the title for this blog post – comes from the word “oneironaut” – an oneironaut is one who can control dreams. like an astronaut. a cosmonaut. but instead of a spacescape, you control a dreamscape. isn’t that so cool? i love the idea of that. if you could control your dreams, you could have anything you want. you could do anything you want. (sidenote: if i ever accomplish enough to be able to write an autobiography, i would love for it to be called “oneironaut.” it’s such a great, great word!)

i’ve been dreaming a lot as of late. a lot a lot a lot. i can blame it on the moonstone i’ve started wearing, but i think that it must be connected to the writing i’m doing. and the dreams i’ve had always have some sort of odd meaning. like —

i’m in the hippodrome. but it’s empty except for me and a roan quarter horse. the horse is bridled, but not saddled, and i’m supposed to be getting a lesson in horse back riding. instead, i’m trying to break the horse in, trying to touch its nose and get my hands on the reins. in reality, i end up chasing it around, trying to coax it to come near. when the lone ostler shows up later, he shows me how to hand-cast horse shoes, and we shoe the horse.


i’m looking in the mirror in a house with all wooden floors and no furniture. and when i take off my makeup i have different eyes – mutated eyes. nothing good, that’s for sure. and for some reason my friends want me to role-play being a bear. (sidenote: i do not know what that means.) and when i pick up the paper, an ex has a headline about the earthquake on the front page. and i know that there’s someone out there who’s trying to break into the house and possibly do harm to me, but there’s nothing i can do. and when i lean against the bathroom door, it snaps off its hinges, and with the help of an 8 year old boy i have to fix it with mini-bar keys.


im the lead singer for a band, and we’re playing in a school gymnasium. and you and i have a date, and we’re walking down a dark street – no lights except for the neon rainbow store signs. and we are HUGE. we are giants. and when i go home later that night, you show up in all black – black hat, black wool coat, black suitcase – and my mother leaves us to talk in the front hall, and you tell me that you love me and i vomit or at least i don’t like the news. and i wonder if you’re trying to move into my family home – why on earth do you have your suitcase with you?

man oh man i dream a lot.


i never need an excuse to post a hieronymus bosch picture.

and so i wondered if writers dream more than other people!

it kind of makes sense, yeah? that we’re always creating these scenes and scapes, and so our brains are firing on all these weird cylinders, parts of the brain that maybe other people don’t exercise as much. i mean, there have got to be areas of the brain that creative people and writers touch and warm more than somehow who works as a mechanical engineer, say, or someone who works as a judge…. i wonder if judges have different dreams than writers or sculptors…. anyway, i hated the psychology of sleep when i was in school at queen’s. i should have paid more attention to the subject, i know, but nothing about sleep labs appealed to me. anyway. from what i vaguely recall – people don’t know much about dreams. i mean, we know what sleep cycle they come in, but that’s about it. and there’s no proof that eating specific foods before sleep affects dreams. or anything of the sort.

i guess i’ve been doing my own sleep-dream experiments, then. but not intentionally. and not with food. my writing schedule has changed and so i’m writing more at night now (probably because im lazy and i procrastinate all day and then go oh shit i need to write and i write at night) and so therefore i’m sometimes writing right up until the point of bedtime. and oh man the dream that i get are weird, vaguely related to what i’ve been writing or researching but way more warped.

do you guys get weird dreams (writers)?

i’m a big believer in dreams. i don’t know if they are tapping into the subconscious where a ton of information is available to us, or if there is a level of awareness that we gain only in our dreams from completely elsewhere.

all i know is that we can draw serious creative inspiration from our dreams. it works both ways. i dream wilder things when i’ve been writing, and those in turn fuel poems. (dreams are sometimes a little too fleeting and odd for fiction, but i think it could probably be done.) it’s a cycle. wear that moonstone. get some dream.


this is what i have been listening to lately.

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