Skip to main content

sleepworking

and now the hard part
the non-news is that i had insomnia last night. that was probably because i'd had a short nap earlier in the day, which was a bad idea, but i was so tired i quite literally couldn't see straight [who knew that actually happened??] because i'd had insomnia the night before, because i'd dozed off for a little while in the evening after supper, because i was exhausted from not having slept the previous night.

when i did manage to doze off, i slept deeply and merrily, and i had a dream that, despite the usual load of dream-world non sequitur-ization and webby logic, presented me with an amazing story. all the writers' block i've been suffering apparently took the night off and every backed up idea in my cerebral drain came bursting through. it was exciting.

when i woke up [late] i immediately gestured to dom [who was just trying to tell me that there was coffee made] not to say a word, because dreams are fragile when you try to carry them and any errant arrangement of real world words can destroy their delicate connective tissues. i didn't want to be rude, but i couldn't risk speaking or hearing other than to say "i dreamt something. need to hold on." and i think that might be putting it more articulately than i did this morning. [but, as we've already seen, i need all the help i can get holding onto dream ideas, because i'm not helping myself at all.]

i don't know if i'm the only person who gets writing prompts while unconscious as often or more often than when fully conscious. i'm sort of grateful for that because it means that sleeping is doing creative work. i'm not being lazy, i'm incubating ideas for future fiction. [unless i'm having dreams about sharpening pencils. that's just my subconscious not taking its job seriously.]

there's just one wee problem with last night's sound asleep work shift: it was part one.

even in the dream, i became aware that what i was getting was the first instalment of a story, complete with cliffhanger-style ending. i'm not above ending stories that way on my own, but this wasn't one of those things. this was a story- several stories, really- that had just started to develop and promised a lot more intrigue in the subsequent parts. except i didn't dream those subsequent parts. i dreamt the first part and woke up.

earlier, i posted on facebook that i need someone to knock me out in such a way that i could continue with the dream, because my waking brain doesn't have much of an idea how to keep the story moving forward, at least not as well as it was moving forward without me thinking about it. i managed to take decent notes about what i knew and managed to smooth out some of the bits that didn't make a lot of sense without too much trouble. it's an awesome beginning, but i feel like if i add anything to it, it won't nearly be up to the quality of what i have. or rather, what i don't have, because it isn't actually anything yet because i haven't written any of it and i'm not really sure how to start, because that would imply that i knew where it was going, which i don't, at least not once the action gets going.

it's like my brain designed an awesome roller coaster, but the track ends at the exact point when the train picks up speed. and that's really fun for no one.

so now, i'm sort of bargaining with my brain that since i've made notes and started to come up with a structure for a story that i can start working on, maybe it could be cooperative for once and let me have the rest of the information? i have the distinct feeling that that's not going to happen, which means that i have to depend on my more logical conscious brain to do the rest of the work and i already feel like conscious kate's brain is overdue for a tune-up.

so, i have a story to tell you. and it's kind of awesome, in an unsatisfying sort of way.

Comments

as long as you're here, why not read more?

long suffering

i've been meaning to write this post for a while, but, every time i get started, something happens that makes me rethink portions of it, to add or subtract or consider a different way of looking at things. the post was originally going to be my take on a #metoo statement, but i ended up making that post on my personal facebook page. [it's not that i don't love you all, but there are a few things i'm not comfortable putting in the entirely public sphere.] but beyond joining the #metoo juggernaut, i wanted to write something about the wave of sexual assault revelations that continues to swell over the north american media landscape that wasn't about me. then i realised that that was a little more complicated than just writing "so, lotta sex rapes happenin' these days, ain't there?" or whatever it was that i was going to say.

so i tried writing something about just a part of it: the media coverage or the entertainment industry or the politicians or …

jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

making faces :: a lip for all seasons [summer edition]

this may seem like an odd time to think about summer, but not to think about coolness. it can be hard to wrap your head around the idea that summer is considered "cool" in colour analysis terms and, in my opinion, reads as the coolest of the cool, because everything in it is touched with the same chilly grey. winter may have the coldest colours, but its palette is so vivid that it distracts the eye. everything in summer is fresh and misty, like the morning sky before the sun breaks through. in my original post on the season, i compared it to monet's paintings of waterlilies at his garden in giverny and, if i do say so, i think that's an apt characterisation.

finding lip colours touched with summer grey and blue is, as you might expect, kind of tricky. the cosmetic world seems obsessed with bringing warmth, which doesn't recognise that some complexions don't support it well. [also, different complexions support different kinds of warmth, but that's another…