I take a great writing class in Manhattan. Just phenomenal… it runs three hours, can drag a bit at midpoint, naturally, but I am consistently satisfied, upon finally checking my phone when I can no longer hold out… there’s always only an hour or so remaining. Usually flies by.
Really respect my teacher. She’s having her first novel published very soon. Makes consistently intelligent suggestions, harbors helpful insights, has a genuinely committed disposition.
Last week, I had to submit a section of a novella I am currently working on. Teach complimented me for my opening paragraphs, which concerned the protagonists’ interpretation of a particularly pleasant dream… She admitted to being worried about my decision to open a story with such a potentially vague topic. While the pages were far from perfect, she thought the material concerning those aforementioned unconscious visions worked well.
This made me happy. I figured I could write intriguing passages about dreams. I consider myself somewhat of an expert on the topic. Well, that’s probably a bit too bold. Let’s just say I’m interested.
See, this novella I’m working on, it’s really more of an experiment. I’ve been writing screenplays the past seven years [ack! Can’t believe it’s been that long] I haven’t written many short stories in my life. I was committed to film. But the film industry sometimes makes me want to commit myself… so I’m trying to branch out.
Upon starting my novella, I wanted to get into a good, organic writing flow. I figured a discussion about dreams would certainly do the trick. And it did.
See, when I think about dreams, it just places me in a special, receptive, artistic state. Keep in mind, I’m not referring to nightmares… those are different.
Dreams leave us with questions. And art is the pursuit of those questions. What eye are we seeing with in our sleep? What kind of consciousness? Are these random images; or something deeper?
One could argue dreams are pure creation. When one is writing, or painting, they can approach a dreamlike state where hours blur by like minutes. Was it concentration, or the apprehension of another, perhaps, dare I say it, more natural mode of thinking?
I myself often associate thinking with thoughts, and dreams with thoughts. But do dreams transcend normal mind processes? It causes one to consider what thought even is… maybe can lead one toward categorizing thoughts. If thoughts can be categorized though, who is doing the categorizing? For a thought to be labeled superfluous or serious, it must be stepped outside of. What are we, when detached from a thought and able to analyze it? Should we be more in touch with this “observer?” Perhaps… but can pure observation and art coexist? Where else does passion exist but in the moment? If the moment is observed, instead of being reacted to, is it gone, as a potentially artistic statement?
Hmmmmm… see what I mean?
Anyone else interested in dreams?