Thanks to Altricaj over on YSDC for the link to a website that turns new photos into old-timey wonders. My book of the Yellow Sign looks much more impressive 80 years ago, don't you think?
Bound in Flesh
1 day ago
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Ageing my book
Thanks to Altricaj over on YSDC for the link to a website that turns new photos into old-timey wonders. My book of the Yellow Sign looks much more impressive 80 years ago, don't you think?
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Dream, night of 3/31/2008
The Dream:
I don't remember a lot about this dream except that it was of the extra-confusing sort. The kind in which I went through a number of levels of sleep, dreaming, and wakefulness all while still physically asleep. I shall try to give some of the flashes that I remember.
At some point in my dream I was surrounded by strange faces speaking a language I could not understand. Later I was standing with several other children - we were all teens - talking about something frightful in hushed voices. It seems that all of us were cursed with nocturnal unconscious teleportation. I wish I could remember the term they used, for it conveyed a mystical and saintly ability. It was then that the faces and odd languages made sense. In my sleep I had teleported to somewhere in Russia and was greeted and believed to be a saint.
When I looked around next, the children were all gone, and I was standing in the entryway of a great cyclopean building of stone construction. I got the distinct impression that it was a sort of temple long since passed into disuse. Around me were my family, my paternal grandparents, and my girlfriend. We all boarded a large pontoon boat and sailed out onto a vast black lake.
Reflections:
I don't know what could have triggered this dream or where these images came from. Looking back at dreams for meaning is rather chancy, since there is a tendency to reverse impose images, thoughts, and concepts that weren't there initially.
For example: when I think back on the temple now, I think of an image in the Trail of Cthulhu RPG. However, I know that's not what the temple in my dream really looked like. I know that something happened on the pontoon boat that involved my grandfather, but I don't remember it, and when I try to recall it I get the distinct impression I'm imagining something that wasn't there to begin with.
I don't remember a lot about this dream except that it was of the extra-confusing sort. The kind in which I went through a number of levels of sleep, dreaming, and wakefulness all while still physically asleep. I shall try to give some of the flashes that I remember.
At some point in my dream I was surrounded by strange faces speaking a language I could not understand. Later I was standing with several other children - we were all teens - talking about something frightful in hushed voices. It seems that all of us were cursed with nocturnal unconscious teleportation. I wish I could remember the term they used, for it conveyed a mystical and saintly ability. It was then that the faces and odd languages made sense. In my sleep I had teleported to somewhere in Russia and was greeted and believed to be a saint.
When I looked around next, the children were all gone, and I was standing in the entryway of a great cyclopean building of stone construction. I got the distinct impression that it was a sort of temple long since passed into disuse. Around me were my family, my paternal grandparents, and my girlfriend. We all boarded a large pontoon boat and sailed out onto a vast black lake.
Reflections:
I don't know what could have triggered this dream or where these images came from. Looking back at dreams for meaning is rather chancy, since there is a tendency to reverse impose images, thoughts, and concepts that weren't there initially.
For example: when I think back on the temple now, I think of an image in the Trail of Cthulhu RPG. However, I know that's not what the temple in my dream really looked like. I know that something happened on the pontoon boat that involved my grandfather, but I don't remember it, and when I try to recall it I get the distinct impression I'm imagining something that wasn't there to begin with.
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