glad I could be of service. I dreamed a scorpion was in my bed and woke up anxious. Too many hotels maybe...halloweennui wrote: ↑Mon Oct 04, 2021 3:37 pm rischka was in my dream the other day. I was being chased by an unruly mob through a trailer park and she protected me. So, thanks for that, R. I pictured you having long, straight white hair for some reason.
Dreams
Re: Dreams
wow first dream i've remembered in awhile. i was dating brad pitt! but we broke up after a long conversation about why he couldn't invite me to thanksgiving dinner i think his mom didn't like me. i was trying to walk home from his place but i got lost and i'd forgotten to bring my phone. then i saw an elephant in someone's yard and ran into some disreputable people i used to know... there was more but i forget
Aw, c'mon! Brangelina was a bad enough neologism, I'm sorry but Bradischka is a complete non-starter. You're gonna need to find another dreamboat celeb type to date. One that won't break poor Jennifer Aniston's heart. (I hear she hasn't given up hope on a reconciliation.)
I hear Jake Gyllenhaal's single, maybe work your way up from there?
I hear Jake Gyllenhaal's single, maybe work your way up from there?
oh no worries, like i said we already broke up
i know i dreamed about an elephant but two mule deer just came through my yard this afternoon. and i got to see them pronking!!
they pronked up a hill across the road
i know i dreamed about an elephant but two mule deer just came through my yard this afternoon. and i got to see them pronking!!
they pronked up a hill across the road
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to celebrate the birth anniversary of the first cinema mogul and inventor of the “assembly line” system of filmmaking (i.e. Ince)
i watched his treatise about the therapeutic power of dreams.
https://youtu.be/NdPU9jVTAsg
i watched his treatise about the therapeutic power of dreams.
https://youtu.be/NdPU9jVTAsg
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while some dreams are therapeutic (viz above), other dreams are educational (viz below)...
1962 poll No10:
(haphazard travels of) MR. TOMPKINS INSIDE HIMSELF (Stan Brakhage) ... Ltbxd=1960, Mubi=1962, IMDb=absent
https://twitter.com/jirinvk/status/1462 ... 16612?s=20
Fig. 1. Map of Mr. Thompkin's travels inside himself (viz pic 1)
1962 poll No10:
(haphazard travels of) MR. TOMPKINS INSIDE HIMSELF (Stan Brakhage) ... Ltbxd=1960, Mubi=1962, IMDb=absent
https://twitter.com/jirinvk/status/1462 ... 16612?s=20
Fig. 1. Map of Mr. Thompkin's travels inside himself (viz pic 1)
This happened to me once, but it involved Psilocybin.
i had a dream last night that i am guessing in some dream-logic way was generated by watching rappaport's two for the opera box: i was in an abandoned movie theatre, full of rubble & dust, and all of a sudden the screen started showing a film which i for some reason very specifically knew was one by shinji somai (odd, because i wasn't thinking about him & i've never seen a single one of his films) and then i realised i was sitting next to jiri, who totally ignored me when i tried to say hi (hmph!) so i thought fuck this and discovered i was actually in a very art deco mirrored glittering bar, on a train just coming into newcastle and was downing repeated shots of the incredibly expensive louis xiii cognac (they paid for the restoration of maurice tourneur's broken butterfly) and i got so drunk i woke up
i can't remember the last time i had such a movie related dream, and it was all in incredibly decorative shimmering colour...
i can't remember the last time i had such a movie related dream, and it was all in incredibly decorative shimmering colour...
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i didn't dream anything tonight.twodeadmagpies wrote: ↑Sat Jan 29, 2022 1:33 pm and then i realised i was sitting next to jiri, who totally ignored me when i tried to say hi (hmph!) so i thought fuck this
so, i must have been blind in your dream?!? (or something?!?)
otherwise, i wouldn't be so stupid not to cherish your company!
ha well maybe i deserved it - there was a vague feeling of ominous guilt, perhaps i had not been observing proper cinema etiquette or something!
main effect was that i woke up with the urge to drink decadent liquor. so saluting scfz & my next movie with some olden golden rum (which is the only stuff i've got in the house right now, but it'll do)
main effect was that i woke up with the urge to drink decadent liquor. so saluting scfz & my next movie with some olden golden rum (which is the only stuff i've got in the house right now, but it'll do)
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1921 poll:
GERTIE ON TOUR (Winsor McCay)
GERTIE ON TOUR (Winsor McCay)
https://youtu.be/7zdrZH0h67MGertie the dinosaur has been brought into the modern world. Continually perplexed by her new surroundings, she begins to explore the new sights. But when she sleeps, she dreams of the way it used to be, in the days when the world was full of dinosaurs like herself.
aww gertie
i've been having bad dreams but i can't remember them. that might be a good thing tho
i've been having bad dreams but i can't remember them. that might be a good thing tho
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I think I dreamed last night that I was selling off all my assets to move to Stockholm, only I'm not sure it was me, and I'm not sure that was what I was doing.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?
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1984 poll:
FOUNTAIN OF DREAMS (Jordan Belson)
https://youtu.be/l9Fc6FQ9RWE
FOUNTAIN OF DREAMS (Jordan Belson)
i rather wish this to be a final sequence of the MAD EMPEROR: LUDWIG II (after Ludwig enters the water and gets drowned).If Solaris had a stargate sequence
https://youtu.be/l9Fc6FQ9RWE
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1984 poll:
LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES (Vince Collins)
LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES (Vince Collins)
A bell, a cup, a duck, a kite and a girl.
https://vimeo.com/132251646It's just a dream, and my advice
Is don't neglect to have a nice
Life flash before your eyes
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I've had a major breakthrough in terms of remembering dreams -- three-four days now, I've been waking up with full narratives, detailed enough to transcribe. SUPER happy about that!
Unfortunately, this batch of dreams all seem to be about confronting my mortality in one way or other. The first one was so distressing I won't post it, but last night I dreamt a little number I call Tous Les Garcons S'Appellent Oliver, which seems to be about how teensy-weensy any artistic legacy I leave the world will be.
The first bit I remember, I was outside a uni library with a book I had stolen somehow, not checked out; it was a small blue volume from one of those series of reprints of... 18th century genre fiction or something. I discovered that someone had pasted a newspaper clipping onto the copyright page, something about botany? and I was hugely tickled, I was planning to tip another clipping or two into the book and instigate a game that would involve a big network of such interventions in lots and lots of books, creating a galaxy of bits of irrelevancies that would develop their own system of meaning for anyone who stumbled into it.
Then I was in the student rec center, in a room that had computers and a wide-screen tv running. I was behind some big piece of furniture, invisible to everybody, and I liked having a hiding place, but then I had to go to the bathroom. II was in a wheelchair now, so I wheeled to the bathroom -- an odd space that had a big foosball parlor with huge LED displays covering the walls, and only gradually morphed -- at one end of the room -- into the actual urinals and stuff that I needed. I stood up from my chair to pee; I felt the chair shift at my side and turned to confront the person that seemed to be trying to take it; my dick was still out, so I tucked and apologized, sat back down and wheeled away, intending to go back to my hiding place.
But I got lost and wandered around aimlessly. Ended up outside and tried to backtrack by entering the building from the same entrance as before... I was momentarily distracted by two grocery bags with snacks in them that didn't seem to have an owner -- I put them into my lap and moved on. Next I ran into a custodian and I thought he could help me get my bearings, so I asked him if he had seen my gear anywhere -- for some reason, at this point, I identified "my stuff" as a green milk crate with two novels in it... but I had a very hard time telling him what the books were, i was all "One of them's by... not Oliver Hardy, but the other guy... and the other one was set in the 17th century? I think Cromwell was a character?" (I said 'Oliver Hardy, but t was clear in the dream that I was talking about Thomas Hardy, and nobody noticed the mistake till I woke up.) Meanwhile, I was looking around this big open space, like a hotel lobby, and I realized that *dozens* of people had abandoned their belongings in little heaps, there was so much stuff around that I couldn't pick and choose things to steal without being noticed. The last little cache that I looked at was a cardboard box with a woman's purse inside..
I think I finally made it back to that TV/computer room, but not till the moment I woke up.
Unfortunately, this batch of dreams all seem to be about confronting my mortality in one way or other. The first one was so distressing I won't post it, but last night I dreamt a little number I call Tous Les Garcons S'Appellent Oliver, which seems to be about how teensy-weensy any artistic legacy I leave the world will be.
The first bit I remember, I was outside a uni library with a book I had stolen somehow, not checked out; it was a small blue volume from one of those series of reprints of... 18th century genre fiction or something. I discovered that someone had pasted a newspaper clipping onto the copyright page, something about botany? and I was hugely tickled, I was planning to tip another clipping or two into the book and instigate a game that would involve a big network of such interventions in lots and lots of books, creating a galaxy of bits of irrelevancies that would develop their own system of meaning for anyone who stumbled into it.
Then I was in the student rec center, in a room that had computers and a wide-screen tv running. I was behind some big piece of furniture, invisible to everybody, and I liked having a hiding place, but then I had to go to the bathroom. II was in a wheelchair now, so I wheeled to the bathroom -- an odd space that had a big foosball parlor with huge LED displays covering the walls, and only gradually morphed -- at one end of the room -- into the actual urinals and stuff that I needed. I stood up from my chair to pee; I felt the chair shift at my side and turned to confront the person that seemed to be trying to take it; my dick was still out, so I tucked and apologized, sat back down and wheeled away, intending to go back to my hiding place.
But I got lost and wandered around aimlessly. Ended up outside and tried to backtrack by entering the building from the same entrance as before... I was momentarily distracted by two grocery bags with snacks in them that didn't seem to have an owner -- I put them into my lap and moved on. Next I ran into a custodian and I thought he could help me get my bearings, so I asked him if he had seen my gear anywhere -- for some reason, at this point, I identified "my stuff" as a green milk crate with two novels in it... but I had a very hard time telling him what the books were, i was all "One of them's by... not Oliver Hardy, but the other guy... and the other one was set in the 17th century? I think Cromwell was a character?" (I said 'Oliver Hardy, but t was clear in the dream that I was talking about Thomas Hardy, and nobody noticed the mistake till I woke up.) Meanwhile, I was looking around this big open space, like a hotel lobby, and I realized that *dozens* of people had abandoned their belongings in little heaps, there was so much stuff around that I couldn't pick and choose things to steal without being noticed. The last little cache that I looked at was a cardboard box with a woman's purse inside..
I think I finally made it back to that TV/computer room, but not till the moment I woke up.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?
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Two more last night! I'll stop posting my nightly minutiae after this, but I'm just... so excited! It's like a whole important part of my life has been restored to me. Added bonus: this time, they weren't all about dying and shit.
(translated where necessary)
I was in Mexico, a city I wasn't familiar with, and I asked at my hotel how to get to a public library. "Go two blocks that way, then turn right and keep going till you get to the Kwik-Mart, and it's somewhere around there." I walked to the Kwik-Mart, went inside and tried to ask two women there where the library was. At first they ignored me, then one of them unfroze and said "Damn, son, if you're going to dress like a hoodlum..." I saw a phone book, so I went over to look up the address, and when I opened it, I ended up reading a comix story about Dr. Atomic that was badly printed inside.
********
I was living in a homeless encampment, maybe a political camp like Occupy? that was set up outside some big empty gov't building. Someone discovered that all the first floor windows had recently been broken, and several of us scoped them out, thinking about taking over the building itself. Later I knocked over a container I'd been using to pee in and spilled it onto the ground; my mother was lying on a blanket adjacent to me, and she said "something something, its like I never knew you," intended as a compliment.
(translated where necessary)
I was in Mexico, a city I wasn't familiar with, and I asked at my hotel how to get to a public library. "Go two blocks that way, then turn right and keep going till you get to the Kwik-Mart, and it's somewhere around there." I walked to the Kwik-Mart, went inside and tried to ask two women there where the library was. At first they ignored me, then one of them unfroze and said "Damn, son, if you're going to dress like a hoodlum..." I saw a phone book, so I went over to look up the address, and when I opened it, I ended up reading a comix story about Dr. Atomic that was badly printed inside.
********
I was living in a homeless encampment, maybe a political camp like Occupy? that was set up outside some big empty gov't building. Someone discovered that all the first floor windows had recently been broken, and several of us scoped them out, thinking about taking over the building itself. Later I knocked over a container I'd been using to pee in and spilled it onto the ground; my mother was lying on a blanket adjacent to me, and she said "something something, its like I never knew you," intended as a compliment.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?
that's cool that you've cracked your dream memories! i often dream of being lost and it's so distressing, once recently i was on a mountainside and thought i knew where i was going and ended up on a cliff with no way down sometimes i'm lost inside buildings too. i have no sense of direction while awake either but these are stressful
once i was at a party in nyc and i got a cab but couldn't remember the name of my hotel
once i was at a party in nyc and i got a cab but couldn't remember the name of my hotel
no lencho keep posting your dreams, i like reading them!
if i don't write them down immediately after waking i tend to forget the details and for instance all i remember mostly now about last night's dream aside from a kerfuffle with a yellow make-up pencil (not clear if for eyebrows or lips) is that i was obliged for some reason to scrape a layer of cold thick butter off a naked woman.
if i don't write them down immediately after waking i tend to forget the details and for instance all i remember mostly now about last night's dream aside from a kerfuffle with a yellow make-up pencil (not clear if for eyebrows or lips) is that i was obliged for some reason to scrape a layer of cold thick butter off a naked woman.
Yeah, obviously movie fans must be the kind of weirdos that actually like hearing recounted dreams since I enjoy reading them as well. Fascinating stuff, not least because they aren't like mine at all, from what I remember of them anyway.
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Well, if youse want to read them, that's another story.
Funny Greg thought his own dreams were so different; when he described his most common recurring dream premise, it sounded like one of mine, the one where I've returned to a place I used to live and had to puzzle out how to reintegrate myself into life there, either by figuring out the area's geography all over again or by finding a way to reestablish contact with people I previously knew. For some reason, that's the template for so many of mine....
And last night...Each time I hit REM sleep, my thoughts went toward planning a website called KarensWorld.com that would celebrate those racist women who act on their prejudices by calling the police on innocent people. I think it was supposed to be a source of ironic snickers for regular people at the same time that it validated those women to themselves... The "Live, laugh and love" slogan was in there somewhere, and the tag "Share your triumphs!"
At the end of the night, that somehow morphed into a Mitchell Leisen rom-com; I forget everything but the end, but I was the jolly immigrant grandpa, like an S Z Sakalls type, and I went to Europe to set everything right. The ingenue... who reminded me a bit of Rischka... was preparing to enter a convent, but I told her that my brother was getting married, which solved one of her problems, and that she could perhaps go back to DC and take over the apartment he was leaving, which solved another. During the fade-out, I quietly floated the idea that she and I might marry, but that seemed like a long shot. Maybe it was just in honor of the romcom convention of pairing everybody off right at the end.
Funny Greg thought his own dreams were so different; when he described his most common recurring dream premise, it sounded like one of mine, the one where I've returned to a place I used to live and had to puzzle out how to reintegrate myself into life there, either by figuring out the area's geography all over again or by finding a way to reestablish contact with people I previously knew. For some reason, that's the template for so many of mine....
And last night...Each time I hit REM sleep, my thoughts went toward planning a website called KarensWorld.com that would celebrate those racist women who act on their prejudices by calling the police on innocent people. I think it was supposed to be a source of ironic snickers for regular people at the same time that it validated those women to themselves... The "Live, laugh and love" slogan was in there somewhere, and the tag "Share your triumphs!"
At the end of the night, that somehow morphed into a Mitchell Leisen rom-com; I forget everything but the end, but I was the jolly immigrant grandpa, like an S Z Sakalls type, and I went to Europe to set everything right. The ingenue... who reminded me a bit of Rischka... was preparing to enter a convent, but I told her that my brother was getting married, which solved one of her problems, and that she could perhaps go back to DC and take over the apartment he was leaving, which solved another. During the fade-out, I quietly floated the idea that she and I might marry, but that seemed like a long shot. Maybe it was just in honor of the romcom convention of pairing everybody off right at the end.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?
It's just that the one's I remember of mine are almost always mundane, virtually sorting problems given mild sense of "story" via underlying anxiety over something or another, few that take a leap to something more fanciful, but lately I haven't been aware of them enough for recollection at all, so hearing the more elaborate dreams others have is interesting because of the banal repetition of most of my own.
aww lencho! thx for trying to save me from a convent
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My overnight memory has gone fuzzy again, but I captured one fun detail from last night's adventures:
The Marx Brothers buried a coffin full of knives. I think it was a magic ritual of some sort.
The Marx Brothers buried a coffin full of knives. I think it was a magic ritual of some sort.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?
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Oh, Greg, I hear you about "sorting" dreams. There's a growing undertone of that in my stuff too; in my case, I think it comes from spending too much time online and conflating experiential narratives with cybernetic data-processing.
The opposite of 'reify' is... ?