Dust Bunnies, Dreams and Driving Simulators ...

March 10, 2014

Last night, I enjoyed my favorite dream. Well … it ranks pretty high on the list, anyway. I wonder if we’ve all enjoyed this one? This is the dream where you discover new rooms, or whole new levels, in your own house. A hidden staircases led you down to dusty grottos that were filled with the belongings of the previous owner. Maybe you found an indoor swimming pool, or a hot tub, two floors down. Or, maybe your dreaming mind pulled you in the other direction, up an attic stairway that led to a rooftop greenhouse. Your mundane trappings of daily life suddenly became a fantastic world of secret nooks, subterranean grottos, and scenic overlooks, all mischievously hidden behind false walls, or a kitchen cabinet that you’d never opened …

 

Maybe our subconscious attraction to this Narnia fantasy lies somewhere at the root of our kids’ addiction to Minecraft? This kind of dream never fails to fill my waking mind with whimsical thoughts of new worlds, discovered through a tiny stitch in the fabric of our everyday reality. It’s a state of mind that is very conducive to writing, opening the mind to new potential, and to inspiration from new directions.

 

In last night’s episode, I discovered the entrance to the new room, hidden behind some paneling in the basement. I pushed through the cobwebs, and stepped into my new domain. Mounted on the wall were blinking lights, glowing keys, and all sorts of digital control panels. I learned that we had an automated sprinkler system. Hmm. How about that? I found a keypad for several circuits of automated lights, indoor and outdoor. And then, I found the coolest panel of all. It was a tuner, complete with a CD player, and a USB connection for a device sync. My eyes widened. All along, this house had been equipped with a central music system. I couldn’t imagine where all the speakers were hidden … but then, something peculiar caught my eye.

 

Beside the tuner was a steering wheel. Above it, a Plexiglas window was cut into the wall, offering a view into yet another room that was completely empty. I ran my fingertips over the steering wheel. Down by the floor, I noticed a couple of foot pedals. I scratched my head. This feature was pretty difficult to explain.

 

Ah-ha! My head snapped upward. Sure enough, there was the overhead projector, covered in cobwebs, mounted right to the floor joists under our kitchen. This feature was none other than a driver’s education simulator. The previous homeowners must have been certified instructors. Interesting. I didn’t know what they were charging for driver’s ed, these days, but I figured I could get certified, and maybe start up a little business on the side. I could hardly wait to turn on the projector and watch the corny film!

 

Once someone learns that I’m a writer of speculative fiction, they often feel compelled to tell me about the weird dream they had, because it would make a great story. I don’t mind that. I enjoy seeing people’s creative wheels start spinning. I just listen to them describe their ideas, and watch their eyes light up as they recall the important details of their dreams. Dreams are interesting, in the sense that they are both nostalgic, and loaded with portents—but only to the dreamer. When it comes to dreams, you kind of have to be there ...

 

When I’m listening to someone else relay their dream, it can sometimes start to feel like listening to one of my kids tell me the entire plot of one of their cartoons. We’ve all been there, stuck in a situation where somebody is describing every detail of their dream; the talking animals, the mismatched settings, the weird throwbacks to earlier times in their life, and as difficult as it is to keep your mind from wandering, the more powerful becomes your impulse to share a dream of your own, even though you’re right in the middle of receiving a painful lesson on what it’s like to have to listen to this nonsense. I think the truth is that it’s both fun and cathartic to share our dreams, regardless of whether the listener is actually enjoying the little trip to Crazytown, or not.

 

It’s fulfilling to recall our dreams.  Once we’ve decided to share our dream with someone else, then we have also made the decision to claim that dream as a valid part of our day. This compulsion probably has long roots back to ancient times, when humans were more in tune with the spiritual side, when we regarded dreams as journeys to a sort of crossroads, between worlds. Back then, we believed that dreams contained encoded messages, warnings and direction. And maybe, with enough practice in deciphering them, they do. I imagine ancient people discussing their dreams around the nightly campfires, where the retelling of one dream triggers a series of retellings, like the most ancient ancestor of Youtube, streaming its primeval video thread, on a Stone Age Saturday night …

Please reload

Featured Posts

Krengel & the Krampusz  was the best idea I’ve ever had.  I think that all creators can probably relate to that struggle to conjure up some sort of a...

Behind the Scenes with KRENGEL (part one)

November 6, 2014

1/9
Please reload

Recent Posts

April 28, 2014

Please reload

Search By Tags
Please reload

Follow Us
  • Facebook Classic
  • Twitter Classic
  • Google Classic
  • Facebook Classic
  • Twitter Classic
  • c-youtube

FOLLOW ME    

© 2023 by Samanta Jonse. Proudly created with Wix.com