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Interpretation of Dreams - #1
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1788
One dream which stands out for the ease of interpretation.
I had finished at a job, with the corporation, it was a disgraceful ending, I had spoken my mind, not really, not even a little but quoted out of context, out of place, I had broken the rules, said something I regretted and was let go.
I had behaved badly. Sure, there were many excuses, overworked, understaffed, permanently stressed with ridiculous deadlines, unattainable targets, and representing hypocritical customer service ambitions.
But I had behaved badly, spoken hastily under stress, and was let go.
And so I went home, both saddened and relieved that this little nightmare was over.
I collect wrist watches, vintage watches, Bulova, Hamilton, Omega, Rolex, any old watches. I have a box full, some are working, some need repair. They are the tangible inheritance I will pass to my children.
When I got home I took a nap. I dreamt my supervisor was breaking into my apartment, the rest of the company was outside waiting for her in a van.
She was breaking in to my apartment, I passed her in the hall as she was carrying out my furniture. She came back again, now to steal my watches. I watched her carrying them out the van, to divide and share with the other employees.
The interpretation was simple - the company had been stealing my watches, my "time" with them was stolen.
When I awoke I saw this, clearly now by way of the dream. And I was less upset.
Of N*** in 3 slices
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2151
I woke up, groggy, barely able to move but I was going to write down this dream, it would only take a minute, I could fall asleep again when I finished.
And I turn on the light, check the clock - must be 3 - 4:00 AM?
It's 7:10 and I'm late, my dream is swiftly evaporating.
There was my mother, somewhere off in a town, shopping, a small old town on a forested mountainside that runs to the sea, overcast, old brick houses and shops. A ferry, I was on it waiting for her, she should hurry or she'll miss it. She missed it.
And N*** - her profile, in 3 paper thin slices, one slice merely a shadow, the other 2 filled with pink polka dots.
Synesthesia
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 1933
Common among artists, Synesthesia is a cross wiring of the senses that allows the Synesthete to experience one sense (for example colour) in conjuntion with another (such as taste or sound). For example, a Synesthete might describe the color red as being hot, brown as being slick, and blue as making a ringing sound akin to a telephone, another might describe the sound of C Sharp as "tasting salty". Various explanations exist for the condition.
Famous synesthetes include Vladimir Nabokov (see his autobiography "Speak Memory"), Duke Ellington , David Hockney and Richard Feynmann.
Further links and videos are listed below.
Brief definition with examples at: Absolute Astronomy
Website for Synesthetes: www.synesthete.org
YouTube clip explaining: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvwTSEwVBfc
Dream Logic
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1875
There is a strange logic to dreams, "Dream Logic" I like to call it. It's where seemingly random associations become imbued with meaning. People, strangers become lovers and confidantes and you don't question it, it's part of the dream. Old neighborhoods become both strange and familiar, where you can become lost in your own house, or take a shortcut that leads you across the world. Distant friends and schoolmates will reunite, people long forgotten in conscious thought reappear in new guises, new relations. In dreams, the mind functions as a whole, disbelief is suspended, incredible events are accepted as ordinary and subservient to a twisted, twisting logic that perverts and recreates memory. One has a dream and in it one recognizes an almost instant familiarity, as if one has had this dream before, never the exact same dream, but the same dream nonetheless. And yet upon awakening it is brand new. And they have the ability to overwrite memory, I have woken from dreams of my childhood, of a childhood I never experienced in a house filled with strangers become relatives, in a town I have never visited become home, yet in the dream I recognized it all and awoke strangely saddened that this dream wasn't my childhood. And strangely disturbed.
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