The pitchy whistle came from between his clenched teeth and his eyebrow raised in a quizzical fashion. "Wow, you said this was from one of your dreams? I'd hate to be a player in one of your nightmares!" My friend concluded as he placed the first few pages of the story I was working out back on the table. It made me reflect on the nature of some of my work. The majority of it comes from dreams I have, some might refer to them as nightmares (or, at least being to some degree nightmarish). I like to refer to them as the goldmine of my imagination. In these dreams that carry an intensity that is not common of my standard sleep cinema, I find that I am not paralyzed by fear, dread, or abject horror as some might expect. Instead, I witness events unfold with colors, details, sights, sounds, names and places with a kind of fascination. The unblinking orb of my mind's eye scorches the images into the membrane of my consciousness, a phantasmal image etched on my waking minds retina...snap shots of ghost from the belly of this minds beast.
I'm sure that I leave you with the impression that most of what goes on in my head is filled with terror and the darker aspects of human nature, but truth be told, I've had my fair share of Technicolor musical numbers where I win the girl and ride off into the sunset play out in cheesy fashion in my noggin. Its in the ones that are harder to watch, though, that I find the questions I have as to "why" are usually answered ("...why do people treat one another this way?", "why am I not where I think I should be in life?", "why am I alone?", etc) It is in these dreams that I must see my shortcomings reflected back at me and face them unflinchingly. This is what provides the fodder for my pen so that it may be placed to page. Before I can identify with that gallant knight on his shinning steed from my sunnier dreams I must learn to see my lesser self however it is shown to me. If you can pass through the muck and mire of the things we see and experience in our dreams to the other side of the story, you may discover that it is often times in nightmares that we find our humanity. So as you read my stories, look beyond the horror and spectacle of it all and think about what part of you I am trying to connect to.
1 comment:
Wow! Mark you have been busy with this since I last checked. Keep at it. Well I have a little rant for you. More of a sick twisted moment that a friend who grew up in Charlotte NC shared with me the other day.
It goes without saying that NASCAR is a big thing in that town and amazing fanfare occurs around it. However, from a local I heard that it is commonplace for people to tailgate party the race from the lawn of the nearby freeway's center divide. Imagine drunken hillbillies picnicking on the interstate as a substitute for the feel of the raceway. It's Darwinian, it's My Name is Earl, hell it's practically the Squidbillies. I don't know. It just begs for interjection into a script somewhere.
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