Saturday, July 30, 2011

"But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travellers...

...notoriously false?"
H. P. Lovecraft

   This morning I woke and snuggled under warm covers, my mind desperately trying to slip back into an unconscious nebula and grip a fabulous dream before it drizzled away from my mind. It was filled with gravestone gray walls, and burnt charcoal colored bricks, long winding corridors and stairs traveling up to the sky.  Wurtles, stripped tabby animals with long but hairy pointy ears, can disappear in water (they actually "become" like water), and can let out a stench that rivals that of a skunk. Their bellies turn bright pink just before they let their farts rip, and their famous noxious gasses are used (in concentrate) to poison and kill.

   I love my dreams. They give me the BEST ideas for writing. The problem is that they fizzle away so quickly from my brain. Even when I try to write them down as soon as I wake, they disappear faster than my fingers can type and frustration sets in as I realize that concepts, ideas and fabulous worlds lurk just on the other side of my conscious realm. I feel the need to re-find the Dark Side of the Moon, but I can't fathom how to return there.

   The hardest thing about writing is not writing. Today, I will travel with family to Santa Barbara to attend a "Greek Festival", and while it is sure to be fun, what will be nagging me in the back of my head is the thought "I should be writing."  Today is a day that I FEEL creative. The dreams which were upon me in the wee hours of the morning are pummeling at my gray matter, begging to be written. But it is a day I've committed to being with family, to sharing time. It is such a difficult thing, to find that balance, particularly when the Muse (funny little snit that she is) is unpredictable in her appearance, and keeps no schedule.

   Despite all of that, I will carry my note-pad and pen with me on my travels, and I will create as I need, write as the fingers itch, and hopefully when I return home I'll have the presence of mind to sit down and create...or possibly destroy. Whichever seems most pleasant at the time.

(Picture by Nonnetta: Victim of a Dream @

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