My dreams have been intruding into my life. Actually, I think I've been worrying about certain things, and those things have been coming out in my dreams. For instance, I've been dreaming about my youngest son, and not in a good way. He'll either be running away from bad guys, or falling off a cliff, or something just as disastrous. I know these types of dreams are telling me that I'm worried about that particular child, for what ever reason.
But for the past few nights I've had the most realistic dreams that have bordered on nightmares. I would wake up being able to remember only flashes of what my mind created during the REM stage, but it’s during those tiny fragments that I understand what's worrying me.
For instance, during one dream that was sci-fi oriented I used a drawing pencil as a universal translator when I hung it around a struggling stranger's neck by a shoestring. If that had been the only drawing related piece of equipment that I could identify, then I would have concentrated on the surrounding scene instead of the pencil, but over the past few nights I've had dreams with other nods toward my artwork in it. Not surprisingly, I have a huge project lying on my drawing table that I've been avoiding while I've been finishing a re-write. The painting is promised to a new mother and the manuscript is only for me. My selfishness had put her gift on the back burner, and that isn’t fair to her, and my sense of guilt has seeped into my subconscious.
Yesterday morning I pushed aside my attempts at writing a synopsis and sat down at my drawing board. When I picked up my first pastel stick and blending stub, I could feel the tension melt away. It’s been slow going, like I knew it would, but with every stroke I know I’m chasing the guilt-filled nightmares away.
Hmmm, a drawing pencil as a universal translator. I think there’s a story in that!