Sunday, August 19, 2012
SOC Sunday: For in Dreams, We Enter a World That is Entirely Our Own
Yesterday I spent five or six hours playing with my brother's kids, my eight- and six-year-old nieces Eira and Lydia. Consequently, I just woke up from a dream in which Eira drew a picture of me. I thought she made the nose look a little funny, so I took a crayon and tried to make myself look a little more normal.
A nice, tame dream, featuring a person I actually know doing something that actually could happen. A little self-conscious, perhaps - but this is not a typical dream for me. I'm usually dreaming something like my "Jesus fighting with Godzilla in downtown Tokyo" dream. It's usually bizarre, and often there's a famous person or two thrown in.
Is weird dreaming hereditary? My dad tells me about wacky dreams all the time. I'll meet him for Sunday breakfast in another hour, and I vividly remember a Sunday breakfast in July in which he entertained the family with his dream about going with his dad to some imaginary red light district of Green Bay, Wisconsin (where my grandparents lived for several years when I was a kid). Perhaps his most memorable dream-tale was the one in which Germans were forcing him to build a bridge made of Lego blocks over the river. (I say "the" river because my parents and I live on the same river that goes through their city and mine.)
Sometimes my dreams inspire a short story or a scene in one of my books - see, for example, Crazy Dream Inspiration.
This is what that other O'Riordan gal thinks about dreams.