Playing with Jake today in our currently unused attic bedroom full of clutter, I found a journal amongst a pile of old magazines, booklets from art exhibitions and other papers. It was a dream journal. I’d started keeping it a few years ago. Unfortunately there were only a few entries. But as I re-read them, some of the images from the dreams came back to me very vividly, as vividly as a memory of a real event. Others I couldn’t remember at all and read like someone else’s account of things I never experienced. Still, I’m glad I wrote them down. And confirmed to me the value of keeping a regular diary. I will definitely be starting up the dream journal again.
Here’s an extract from one of the entries from July 2007:
“Dreamt Paul and I went to Thailand. It was brighter, cleaner and sparser than the real place. We were walking somewhere and reached a square. It was very bright. There were people milling about and a line of soldiers in Thai military uniform were lined up on one side of the square. They got on their knees, aimed and fired. As they fired, the people looked shocked and ducked. I started to duck too, then I noticed that instead of bullets, salt or rice seemed to be hitting one man in the chest. A moment later – everyone “unfroze” from their positions and the soldiers were saying “Well done, you acted really well” and people were smiling and tapping each other on the back, congratulating one another for doing such a good job at playing dead. It was as if it was a game that the people who lived there knew about. But to me and Paul, we thought it was real.”