The image looking back at me
In this reflection of myself
Is showing me
The emptiness I felt inside
Became the womb of my potential
Growing and waiting
For the time to come alive
My history has been told
Those streets are empty now
And all the houses have been sold
With all that I have come to know
At this doorway I stand
On the edge of the dream of all my tomorrows
Happiness is not the feeling
It’s the space within the grieving
It’s the hidden meaning
The heartbeat beneath the dreaming
Last night I had a musical bad dream. In the dream there was half a beat missing and I woke up feeling this strange void in my stomach where the half beat should have been. I then fell back asleep and the same thing happened again a few more times in the night.
It always feels a bit strange to bring something out of a dream and share it in the real world, and writing about the missing half beat reminds me of my first ever painting called ‘Girl’, which came from a dream I had 12 or so years ago.
In the dream I walked into a room and a man was standing painting at an easel. It was just the back of a girl’s head on a black background. I loved the painting so much and asked the man how he had done it. He explained that he had used a sponge and that the painting was called Girl. When I woke the next day I decided to recreate the painting I had seen in my dream. After my son went to bed that evening I got out his poster paints and a big bit of cardboard and made the picture which turned out exactly the same as the one in the dream! It was no technical masterpiece, but I felt as though I had pulled an image out of my dream into real life, which was a very strange feeling indeed.
The next day, I asked my son Finn (age 3 ish at the time) what he thought it was. He answered, “a jellyfish”.