Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Dream the second

Now this one is easier to understand (Champions League Final tonight, Arsenal versus Barcelona). I'm playing football against a team with Ronaldinho in it. Problem is, the football is a normal shape, but has a blotched skin, like a potato. Worse still, Ronaldinho keeps calling it his "mother" and every time someone kicks it he cries. In the end I take him to the side of the pitch, tears streaming down his face.
'Why are you calling it your mother?' I scream at him, 'We can't play properly like this.' Eventually he calms down. Then I take the ball on a mazy dribble the length of the pitch and score a wonder goal. Unfortunately the alarm goes off and I wake up, so I don't know how Ronaldinho reacts to this.

Maybe I'll find out tonight.

Dream the first

Strange dream the other night. I was mixed up in a cult, whose origin was in the worship of a great tree, called Antaeus (In mythology Antaeus was the son of Gaia and Poseidon. He was a giant who compelled all strangers to wrestle with him and defeated or killed them all. He was invincible for as long as he remained in contact with his mother (the Earth) for she supplied him with strength. Heracles discovered his secret and lifted Antaeus from the ground and strangled him. The battle with Heracles is depicted on many Greek vases and even on coins.)

The cult was not so much of the living tree but of the dead one, for it had been felled, and the symbol of the cult was the profile of the inside of the trunk, which was in the shape of a grinning face. I seem to remember the other members were prone to violence and dressed like savages, although their headquarters was a shop on a High Street!

Now I'm not ill and haven't been on medication. Can't even put it down to drink. So where was this dream coming from? I'm a great believer in the pyschological interpretaion of dreams, especially symbolic ones, which this appears to be. I'll have to read some Jung to put perspective on it, but any suggestions will be welcome. I have been revising chapters of my fantasy novel Inside Out recently, so perhaps I am just flexing my creative muscles after a bit of down time.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Progress report

Those nice people from Dell have sent me a new computer - well OK, I did have to pay for it - and I've got my desk back. In essence, I didn't have a desk before, just a piece of furniture to put the old computer monitor on. The great CRT monster sat there for five years, in space I was meant to be writing on, collecting dust and goading me. I shuffled around the house looking for a place to write: sometimes clearing the dining table; or perching on a bed upstairs; occasionally shivering in the garden watching my papers blow around in the breeze. Never, ever in the place that was most suitable; the desk. Yet now the beautiful 19" flat screen monitor sits on a mere corner. The 'box' sits on the floor and the cordless keyboard and mouse (look no wires!) can be put away in seconds. The whole liberated expanse of fake mahogany then beckons to me; use me, use me, use me.

That's progress. All I've got to do now is find something to write about.