The oncoming storm threatens to drop nearly two feet of snow. There will be a lot of shoveling tomorrow. But I do not mind doing that kind of work. In addition, there are other projects to start, plans to be made, and chores to be completed. Writing, reading, and drawing are somewhere on that long list. I will need a lot of energy, and the will to focus. Therefore, I am shutting down for the rest of the night. That means I am leaving you with a disjointed mess. A dream, a movie, an unfinished goal, and lots of food. That is what makes up today's post. Enjoy.
(Here is a link to famous paintings of winter scenes. Beautiful. Below is one image from that website, a work done by Francois Boucher. And for contrast, I included one by George Morland.)
This morning I was driven awake by a dream. It involved a car, a road under construction, and a sense of anxiety and pride. The driver was Lily, a character from the show, How I Met Your Mother. I was sitting next to her. (This may or may not have any bearing on the dream's meaning, but I considered Lily the more attractive woman in the group.) The stretch of road that was closed off was the main street of a town where my children were born. Lily and I found ourselves on the wrong side of the barriers of an empty construction zone. As we plunged forward, openings would appear to our left. Some were entrances to parking lots, where I knew we could make a U-turn. Others led down side roads, away from our current route. As we approached each one, I would shout out, "We can turn here!" With each opportunity to find safety, Lily would ignore my suggestion. Her refusal to heed my directions intensified my anxiety. At one point, we were reaching the end of the road work. We were about to clear the danger. That is when I saw a series of cars coming towards us. They had decided to ignore the closure and detours signs. Within the dream, I felt their excitement at seeing Lily and I breaking the rules. We had one more opportunity to get out of the way and alleviate my concerns (namely upsetting the authorities). One more opening on the left appeared. To my surprise, and without a word from me, Lily drove the car into it. It turned out to be one of those large revolving doors one finds at hotels and office buildings. Somehow the car fit into the space; Lily and I were making some sort of U-turn. As the scene unfolded, I noticed the cars were now following us through the doors. It began with one car. But others soon followed. Soon there was a caravan of vehicles making their way through those revolving doors, turning themselves around in the process.
Then another feeling replaced my anxiety, my worries about offending the authorities, of breaking rules, and going against traffic. Within the dream, I felt pride, believing that all those cars were inspired by my going the wrong way, and entering a forbidden area. The final turn was not to escape public humiliation because of my mistake, but to gain the courage to renter the fray, and lead other with me.
Suddenly I woke up. The dream ended. I began the ritual of remembering the details so I could write them down. When I got to the end, and dwelled a little longer on that feeling of pride, something dawned on me. I was never in control; Lily was always the driver. She led us into the construction zone. She refused to turn around, or turn away. At the very end, in sight of other people, she swerved into a revolving door, forcing us to renter the road work.
In the end, I realized that the feeling of pride in the dream was really vanity.
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This afternoon, my wife was watching the movie Julie and Julia, which we had seen together several times before. It is fun and entertaining. Today I was distracted doing chores. However, I did manage to catch a few scenes, even sitting down during a handful of them. Two caught my attention this time around. The main character, Julie, had started a food blog, chronicling her attempts at Julia Child's recipes.
At one point, Julie's blog following had reached in the hundreds, maybe the thousands. She was receiving dozens of comments a day. That realization inspired a thought. She commented to her boyfriend that if she stopped blogging, those strangers would wondering about her silence. At that moment, I considered my six to twelve followers (Blogger's stats do not distinguish the type of people viewing each of my posts, and whether some are repeats). Part of me wondered whether they would miss my weekly writings. If I suddenly stopped, would they seek me out? Ask about my situation? Hope that I would start posting again?
At another scene in the movie, Julie confesses that while she is cooking Julia Child's recipes, she envisions the famous chef and herself having conversations, laughing, and working together. Basically, Julie revealed that she was daydreaming. And when a reporter shared Child's dismissal of Julie's project, the latter became disheartened, her perfect vision of her imaginary mentor shattered. I could connect with the use of daydreaming while working on a project. But I could also understand the feeling of disappointment when imagination and reality clashed, and a person turned out not to be like the dreams one constructed about them. However, as Julie's patient and well-fed husband pointed out, the daydreams served a purpose, a form of inspiration and motivation. Yet, they should never be used to judge real life people. They can never be the foundation upon which real relationships are built.
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A week ago, after sharing a tsunami dream, my mind was made up to start something new with my blog. It would require some planning and daily writing. Several days ago, while driving to my daughters' studio on a freezing night, I realized that goal was never begun. Shifting gears, I settled on a topic for today's post, hoping to spend three days mulling over the details before composing it. An hour ago, chores only half done, feeling bloated from several salty, fatty meals, with a snow storm raging outside, and a fire dying in front of me, I sat down and wrote this blog post. It has nothing to do with last Sunday's post, nor what was decided Thursday night. Instead, I grabbed at the details of the dream I recorded around two this afternoon--which I should have typed up first thing this morning. Not to mention an experience I had two hours later, with a movie my wife was watching. Somehow, I am certain, the physical discomfort I am feeling from all the food I consumed today is now playing a part in all of this.
Oh well. Tomorrow is a new day. One day at a time. It is what it is. Oh, and I do not plan on going anywhere, anytime soon.
So, see you next week.
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