gwen learns


Posted in Uncategorized by gwenlearns on August 19, 2014

I’ve been daydreaming a lot lately.  Yesterday, as I was walking to see The Giver, I started flying.  It was such a leisurely, casual swim through the air that no one noticed.  I soaked in the sun.  Flew to some of my favorite buildings, especially the ones with round corner rooms, and I wondered how I would fill them.  It usually involves a piano… I’m playing a simple, tight succession of chords while looking longingly out the window.  I’m even sad in my dreams.

The other one that has come up a lot lately is the 23rd St. yellow line hat dream.  I never get off at this stop, but all along the platform are these hats, mosaics on the wall. Just floating, whimsical hats. I imagine myself making a ghost-like jump through the window pane onto an inverted purple bowler’s hat. I start weaving through the subway tunnels, chasing trains.

I have another one that has to do with this sign:


The boom box started it… mostly because we don’t have boom boxes anymore and it makes me think of John Cusack.  So I usually imagine a crowd of people rebelling against these signs but getting it all wrong. Like instead of cigarettes, the people are all waving these batons with flowing material coming out of one end.  The middle littering man picture varies… sometimes it’s a bunch of people doing a weird dance with yo-yo’s or glitter. And the boom box one I of course imagine everyone dressed up and posing like John Cusack with the thing on their shoulder… except that it’s quiet because they all have their phones, listening through headphones.

My daydreams are mostly in transit, when I’m walking or taking the subway. I’ve got two related categories of things falling on me versus me falling down into things. The former are fears and the latter are exhilirating. So I’ll imagine an air conditioner or big block of ice break away from a building and crush me into the sidewalk. Or the elevator will get loose from it’s pulleys and I will free fall into a pillow at the bottom of the shaft. The falling ones always involve a pillow… Restaurants have these sidewalk entrances into their basements like storm cellars in the midwest. I imagine myself walking toward one of those, not realizing it’s open and falling down into a pillow and laughing.  So I suppose my dreams are more happy than sad. 


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