Saturday, June 04, 2005

I Dreamed I Saw A Silver Spaceship Flying In The Yellow Haze Of The Sun, There Were Children Crying And Colours Flying All Around The Chosen Ones 

All in a dream, all in a dream the loading had begun, flying Mother Nature's silver seed to a new home in the sun.

Dream 11
In my dream me, Girlfriend and my Mum are visiting a hilly town or village in the north of England, checking the place out with a view to possibly moving there. A local is showing us round. It seems like a nice place.
It’s getting dark and he takes us to see the cathedral, where evensong is about to begin. A choir is singing, which wows my Mum, as she loves cathedrals and choirs and all that sort of stuff.
We walk around the cathedral. Everybody there is dressed in grand, opulent costumes, and I’m conscious that there is a cinematic single shot quality to the way we swoop around the building. We seem to have transported ourselves into an English version of Russian Ark.

There is a mad old woman among the cast, played by Liz Smith. She is wearing a light, flimsy dress, very fey, and her face has a faraway expression. There is a kitten in each of her bra cups. They miaow frequently to everybody’s amusement, but she flatly refuses to admit that they are there.

There is also a big chubby man, a rosy cheeked fellow with cherry lips and a small ‘o’ shaped mouth. He appears to have stepped out from a saucy seaside postcard. He has a puppy concealed down the front of his trousers. You can see quite clearly when the puppy is wagging it’s tail.


Sincerest thanks to all the guest bloggers who took part in this little dream blog thing. I don’t know about you, but I think all the dreams are fascinating. Really brilliant, and very much in the spirit of what I’d hoped for.

Most of my dreams are gone in the blink of an eye. For instance, riding back from the airport I was dozing off in the taxi, and between two points not much more than a few hundred yards apart I knew that I’d nodded off, woken up again and had a dream in between. Couldn’t remember what it was.

I call them micro-dreams. I wish I had more of the really convoluted and involved dreams, with bizarre twists and turns and people coming and going all over the shop. I’m envious of those who can do that. I don’t seem to have the attention span.

Anyways. It’s been quite an ego boost having you here, a very flattering experience and I feel rather honoured and not just a teensy bit moist. You’ve made an old fart very happy.

Cheers, big love and that,

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